After every high school football game from 1970 through 1973, we would go to Farrells for ice cream sundaes. Big ones, small ones. With or without whipping crème. Always with a cherry.
At the end of high school, I had 23 ribbons from Farrells that said "I Made a Pig of Myself at Farrells"...and I only weighed 98 lbs...go figure.
Last week, I had my 40th reunion and guess where we went? Yep, Farrells. In its newly reincarnated but virtually identical form, Farrells Ice Cream Parlor is making a resurrenge across throughout California. And never one to ignore a good ice cream sundae, I embraced the kitsch, good memories, and that cherry on the top.