Nothing Could Be Finer Than Being in Your Diner

Time to eat.

I wanted to completely submerge us in the warm waters of NH political history while in Manchester, so that meant diving into a meal at the Red Arrow Diner. The Red Arrow, besides being voted one of the Top Ten Diners in America, has had a rich legacy as rest stop for the rich and powerful. Here, it would be easy to share an intimate moment with an aspiring Presidential candidate or B-list entertainment figure.

Once inside, the diner fit us like a glove - mitten is probably a stronger image. We customers were the little fingers all pressed together against the New England chill outside. The entryway was the size of a phone booth, so you had to hang onto your wallet as you passed satisfied patrons leaving the eatery. The interior consisted primarily of a long, narrow sandwich counter lined with low swivel stools. There was a small section of five booths just to the right of the front register. I was reminded of the diner in "The Blob", starring Steve McQueen, the diner completely covered by the alien amoeba at the end of the movie. The decor was a cacophony of red and silver, broken by unpretentious marketing for Red Arrow gear. Coffee mugs, T-shirts, sweats were all available in a variety of colors and sizes. Don't forget to try the home baked Twinkies or the signature Moon Pies.

The diner was full and busy, but we were the only ones waiting for a seat. The hometown atmosphere hung in the air, from the Red Sox caps to the accents to the smells of fresh baked goods. I had a sense that everyone in the restaurant knew each other, like they were sitting and chatting in the owner's private kitchen. We felt welcomed into their underground club.

The middle window booth vacated almost immediately. We were comfortable enough to start clearing the table ourselves. Maybe we were just ready to sit and eat. Marra slid into the booth, right next to the stenciled words on the booth back: Adam Sandler Sat Here. Not a candidate for Leader of the Free World, but pretty cool nonetheless. Marra began to giggle and said, "Daddy, look. Bare Naked Ladies sat over there." I explained that BNL was a band, but it didn't quiet our laughter. Bare naked ladies had sat in this diner and had a meal. I hope they at least had napkins on their laps.

We ordered traditional diner fare. I had home style fried chicken with slaw. Marra ordered the children's portion mac n' cheese. This was a significant moment. Perhaps you parents out there remember your child's awkward transition from kid's menu to adult menu. Child believes children's menu is for babies. You think adult menu is too expensive and portions are too large. You give in so child feels grown up. Child then doesn't eat the entire meal, and you're stuck with the larger bill and the wasted food. Child does not learn this lesson the first time, so you give in a second time, hoping that today is the day she eats the whole adult meal. No. And the larger check comes again. "If she would only get passed the children's menu stigma," you silently pray.

On this day, Marra ordered the appropriate portion size, without as much as a hint from Daddy. Ordering from the kid's menu for Marra was a very adult decision to make. As a reward, I insisted that she not get the cup with a lid. I think Marra noticed.

We regrouped. Marra was still interested in Edwards. She liked his "No Nukes" pledge. She did not like Romney, although I didn't know why. We had only seen his local headquarters. She told me, "He's mean." She mocked his voice, "When Republicans start acting like Democrats, Republicans lose." That's from one of Romney's NH ads. I guess it ran a few times on TV during the trip, and Marra nailed the text cold. I was finding that whenever any candidate spoke negatively about another candidate, she really picked up on that instinctively, and it turned her off. Pollsters will tell us that negative ads work. They never polled the pre-teen crowd.

I wanted to get Marra focused on the next day with Hillary. We had 4 chances to see her tomorrow, which meant 4 opportunities to ask a question. Marra's question: "Why do you keep acting like George Bush?"

"Marra, what are you talking about? Hillary is many things, but she's not exactly George Bush."

She replied, "But that's not what Edwards said." OK, I thought, I'd be interested to read in the NY Times about the upstart pixie who challenged the former First Lady's record versus the Bush record, and dragged Hillary into a fight with Edwards. I encouraged her to think of another possible question, just in case. I already had several.

We finished up and paid the woman who was the same woman prominently pictured on the wall sitting on Al Gore's lap, and bought a Twinkie for the road. Everyone in town seemed to be close at one time or another to the vagabond candidates who trolled for votes every 4 years up here. And now we were, too.

JS