Marvel Morgan drugstore was the favorite stop for candy for all the kids in my neighborhood on the southeast edge of Clyde Hill. We saved our allowances and the change from the sofa cushions to buy candy cigarettes, bubblegum cigars, wax red lips, and Pixie Sticks. We’d ride our bikes down 100th Ave NE, cutting through a vacant lot next to Bell, Book and Candle into the Albertson’s parking lot. We always entered Marvel Morgan through the side entrance in the alley, where we’d pile our bikes together by the door, and then mob the store with our hands full of dimes and pennies. Yes, there were penny candies available at that time. Our group usually consisted of about five us. Me, my best friend Mindy, and a couple of the boys from down the street. Often we were followed by a neighborhood dog or two.

It didn’t happen often, but sometimes a kid wasn’t able to scrounge up some change at home, so there was the occasional stealthy pocketing of candy or gum. Although we never told on someone for stealing, it was something we all frowned upon. But we knew the call of candy was too deep to resist sometimes.

My friend Mindy and I especially liked the candy cigarettes. Her mom was quite fashionable and smoked heavily. We wanted to be cool like her, and so we tried sneaking cigarette butts out of her ashtray. Taking a drag from a real cigarette ended up being painful and not cool at all, so we stuck with the candy variety, which tasted much better and didn’t shred our lungs.

Thinking about Marvel Morgan, I remember they had a basement that housed toys and games, and the remnants of a small bowling alley. I don’t remember if the alley was still in use at the time, I don’t think so, but it felt like a relic from another age. While thinking about this, I called my dad, who also grew up in Bellevue, to see if it was my imagination that Marvel Morgan had a bowling alley in the basement. He said it was there and was called Bellevue Bowl. He worked during high school as a pin-setter at that bowling alley back when they had to set up pins by hand instead of using the automatic machines. Dad said that Bellevue Bowl was eventually relocated behind Auto Row, and that he remembered me being in the childcare room there while he and my mom bowled. I vaguely remember that childcare room. It seems like the TV in the room was always tuned to I Love Lucy. Bellevue had several bowling alleys, but that one in the basement of Marvel Morgan seemed somewhat magical and almost spooky. Almost like you could sense the ghosts of teens from the past meeting their friends there and stocking up on candy and ice cream bars from upstairs.

Marvel Morgan also had a good magazine rack. Good Housekeeping for the moms, car magazines for the guys, and teeny bopper magazines for the pre-teen girls. David Cassidy, Bobby Sherman, Donny Osmond, the Jackson Five. My friend Shawn and I would each buy a different magazine when the new ones came out so we could share. I’d usually buy Tiger Beat and she bought 16. We’d spend the afternoon sighing over our favorite stars, and reading all the articles about silly things like what they looked for in a dream girl. Could we be their dream girl? Oh, gosh, we hoped so!

Candy, magazines, bowling, toys, and even office supplies. Marvel Morgan was a great place to shop and hangout with the kids from the neighborhood.

I have a friend who continually teases me about how many coats/jackets I own. (I could easily tease her about her shoes for the same reason, but I digress.) 😃

But I hear her voice in my head when I think about buying a coat. Do I need it? No, probably not. Do I want it? Yes.

I gave in last week and ordered a new down jacket (my old one has seen better days so it was time for a replacement — or at least that’s what I told myself when I ordered the new one).

It should arrive today. If it’s not everything I dreamed of, I can easily return it to REI. If it’s wonderful, then I have another coat for my collection. It’s not like the coats just gather dust, either. I wear them all for different reasons on different days.
But still my friend’s voice echoes in my head.

Do you have the voices of friends or family or enemies or whatevers speaking to you about your life choices? Even silly small things like how many coats you own? Or is it just me?

Still working my way through books on writing personal history (or memoir). I like books with assignments or writing prompts. Gives me the opportunity to flex muscles. Good practice. Sometimes eye-opening. Today I was given a ten minute writing prompt. Write about a former lover and tell why they’re still in on your mind.

Wow. I sat down to write ten minutes on a boyfriend from high school. An hour later I finally came up for air. I’m so grateful I met my husband when I did. He saved me from a life of being involved with the local cocaine dealer. Seriously. But wow, that dangerous young man had touched a part of my heart that still beats for him. That sounds so melodramatic, but it’s true.

Today’s writing made me realize how close we are to living completely different lives. A chance encounter. A conversation. A change of scenery. It can mean the difference between a good life with a decent man, or a dangerous life spent with someone serving multiple prison terms.

I feel like I saved myself just by picking who to go out with one weekend. Sure, we got into a car accident on that date(!), but it turned a corner in my life that had been headed down a dangerous path.