But perhaps my favorite childhood memory was learning how to drink beer like a man on the 4th of July. Not Schlitz or Ortleibs beer, but root beer. And not just any ordinary root beer, but Stewart’s Root Beer. This creamy concoction was delivered in frosty mugs in an orange oasis of drive-in waitresses, Firebirds and car side service. After an afternoon of mowing the lawn and doing countless chores, nothing was more enjoyable than gulping an icy cold one at the counter. That’s because, as you know, they do not offer window service to sting ray bicycles.
You can still get a frosty mug of the world’s best carbonated refreshment throughout New Jersey. I now take my brew with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and two kids in tow. “Three straws please.” Sharing a root beer is like sharing memories. They last a lifetime.
