Changing Names

When I was younger, my younger sister and I would often spend weekends out on our grandparents’ farm. We knew that while we were there, we would be able to watch movies until our brains turned to mush, run out in the fields until we were completely covered in mud, and eat as much junk food as we could digest. It was tradition that on Friday night, my grandma would make us an odd combination of hot dogs and chicken noodle soup for dinner followed by a Klondike bar for dessert. And for dinner on Saturday night, we would order pizza from a small country market by the name of “Craig’s”. This pizza was the best pizza I have ever eaten. I remember that I would play so hard outside to keep myself occupied in order for the time to pass as I anxiously awaited the arrival of the pizza.

Once my sister and I grew up and became wrapped up in our busy schedules, we did not make it out to my grandparents’ farm as often as we did before. When we did make the 20 minute journey to their house, we had the traditional meals, even “Craig’s” pizza. But one day, when my grandpa took me with him to pick up the pizza, I became very upset upon our arrival. To my surprise, my favorite country market had gone from the ever familiar “Craig’s” to the strange and unknown “Amy’s”. I asked my grandpa why such a horrible thing would happen and his response was that they were under new management. As much as I was disappointed about the sudden name change, I still ate the pizza that was still the same delicious pizza that it was before.

The next time I went to my grandparents’ farm, I was caught off guard once again. I was ready for a nice helping of “Craig’s” pizza. My grandpa was quick to correct me with the accurate name, “Amy’s” pizza. When we went to pick up the pizza, I was thrown off again by yet another name change. Originally known as “Craig’s”, more recently known as “Amy’s”, this country market was now known as “Smith’s”.

With that last name change, I decided that I wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. The pizza that I loved so much had not changed at all. It was only the name on the box and on the building that had changed. I still called this small country market “Craig’s” as I still do to this day. I realized that by changing their name, they were signifying a change in ownership, not a change in service or their food production. They didn’t change their ways or their past, just their name. I’m sure I’m not the only one who still calls this market “Craig’s”. I do it out of habit as others do I’m sure. For being around for several years, it gets cemented in your head that the name just sticks and stays there forever.