Not sure I qualify as a 'Boomer', though certainly my older siblings (ranging up to 19 years older than I) would qualify. But we were the children of Depression-era parents, so no Howard Johnson's for us, though we begged... Way too expensive, said my father. No, our road-food memories are more along the lines of heating cans of beans and corned-beef hash on the carburetor as we drove along, and - for my oldest brothers - the now-legendary cross-country trip in which every cry of 'I'm hungry!' had the same reply: 'Slice yourself off some of that homemade headcheese.' My parents packed food to take along, no matter how long the trip might be. Howard Johnson's coconut cake was the stuff of dreams. Ditto 'all-you-can-drink for 5 cents' juice bars, motels of any sort, and 'see the Giant Fossilized Space Alien' attractions. If there was a 'boom' going on, we weren't in it!

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