Hang Ten at Herbie K’s

I needed a cup of coffee or a nap on this particular Thursday afternoon when I saw the “dining room” sign. Herbie K’s Diner in Cocoa Beach, Florida, to be more specific. But a diner is a diner, right? And the coffee for dinner should be the ticket to give me a shake and take me to nap time.

On the short walk from my car to the front door of Herbie K’s it became clear that Herbie was not interested in owning yet another restaurant. I wanted to own a piece of history. And while I was more than happy to have me stop by for a cup of coffee, I was in the memories with a malt business. I went from the current stresses of the late 1990s to the mid-1950s just by opening a door and walking through it.

There’s a flawless black and white checkerboard tile floor and lots of chrome waiting to greet you. If you’ve brought your sweetie and kids, there are plenty of booths left.

I made my way over to a red padded counter stool mounted on one of those chrome bases that let you swivel in and out. The perfect background music played from a jukebox in the back. “Yakety Yak, don’t answer …”

There was a time when music was on the menu. It’s still on Herbie K. Mounted on the back of the counter was an old friend, a chrome monument to rock and roll adolescence. Everyone in my day knows that you can reach under the front of this space helmet thinking of great music and flick through the music menu pages behind the glass cover. I fumbled for a quarter to go with my growing smile, but someone hit me. There is only one drum opening like that. Clean. Pushbuttons S5. The buttons are just below the glass cover and connect to the large jukebox on the back. This was America’s first remote control. Too bad we didn’t stick with the idea of ​​two options for a quarter.

“Do you need a menu?” he asked as he stopped at my place on the other side of the counter. She was dressed in white and her long hair was tied with a piece of red gauze. She had a white waitress hat pinned to the top of her hair. My name tag announced that “Bettybop” had come out of the fifties to take my order. In a second or two, he came back with a cup of coffee and a white mug. “Cream?”

The Hamilton Beach machines owned the back counter. Two machines can make three malts each. A friendly notice is painted on the back counter, “Free java for cops in uniform.” That’s probably illegal today, right?

In the corner was a machine with a glass top filled with small stuffed animals and a mechanical crane hanging over the furry trophies. Young men can still put their skills to the test and prove their love for fifty cents. Behind me was a two-ton Polaroid very familiar with the curtain door. My father never understood why anyone would pay anything for those grotesque image strips that fall into the outer slot after you and some friends strike the perfect pose.

It should have been on the way, but Herbie succeeded with his concept. Herbie K has caught my eye. It was fun sitting, watching, listening, and flipping through the selection of music on the chrome monument in front of me. I started digging for that coin. Damned. Beat again. Wait for Sloopy. K2 pushbuttons. I really liked that one because it reminded me of Pat Powers and The Barn Party at the frat house. Thirty years flashed by in an instant.

A couple of counter cards pushed the blue plate specials. Yes, they had meatloaf. I was wondering what else they had. Bettybop was speeding up writing in her order pad as she passed.

“Can I see a menu?”

“Of course dear.”

He handed me a four-page menu protected from grease or ketsup-covered fingers, plus protective clear vinyl covers sewn into black plastic edges. Glad I didn’t order fries. They are Murphy sneakers. Order a “Murphy Basket” and you will get plain fries. “Jack it” and turn into cheese fries. “Make It Whistle” and your fries come with chili. Order a “Crying Murphy Basket” and you will get a half order of French fries and half an order of onion rings. Don’t you like french fries? Try “Raised elbows in the alley.” Mac and cheese, of course.

If you like something healthy and light, try “Drag One Through The Farm”. It’s a nice big salad with lots of sliced ​​turkey, ham, and boiled eggs on top of the salad. “Cackle In The Garden” changes the top to blackened chicken.

The menu is adorned with pictures of old favorites. James Dean. Marilyn. Elvis. Herbie’s story is on the cover. He owned a restaurant up north and went fishing on a cold February day. The only thing he caught was a cold. He loves to fish so he moved to Florida and opened Herbie K. Now he catches the “catch of the day” instead of a cold. Snowbird does well.

Yes, they have burgers to go with Cecilia from Simon and Garfunkels. Push M8. Just order “One Blown Up”, “One Blown Up And Jack It” offers you a cheeseburger, “One Blown Up, with Jack Benny” gets you a cheeseburger and bacon, and if you want a variety of these with chili , you guessed it, “Make It Whistle”.

“Burn A Pup” is a hot dog. “Sour It” makes a hot dog bathe in kraut. You can also order from a wide variety of other popular sandwich combinations. Grilled cheese sandwich with tomato “Jack Benny With A Dame”. “Bossy On A Raft” is a steak sandwich. “Butter, Liver and Tongue” is, you guessed it, a BLT.

For those with a bigger appetite, try “Throw A Bone On,” which is the pork chop dinner, or “Endless Italian” in case you’re a spaghetti and meatball lover. “Whiskers” is the catfish dinner that the menu promises is a real treat.

I looked up from the menu of desserts and delicacies like “fish eggs” which is tapioca pudding and “fruit with a lid” which is a cake and a song jumped straight from the portable jukebox at me. We used high-tech reel-to-reel tape recorders to record that song at all the speeds we could think of because we wanted to distinguish the bad words that we knew it had. I finally found the quarter in my pocket, plugged in the machine, and dialed Q7, Louie, Louie. Nothing happened.

“Sorry honey,” Bettybop said when she came to my station with the coffee pot. “It does not work”.

Dammit. A high-tech flop at Herbie’s just as my mind was ready to settle for the day. I didn’t have the heart to ask if all these memories were just props.

“More coffee?” she asked.

“No thanks. I have to become a businessman,” I told him, paid the bill and headed for the door. I turned and asked him a question before leaving the past and opening the door back to the depressed future.

“Is there a place that sells fifties music around here?”