Once upon a spring in the late 1980's, my sister and I dug our bicycles out from the shed and decided to embark on a journey. We were going to venture a little further than we normally would to get some candy and whatever else my sister was into by that age, like blank cassette tapes or White Rain hairspray. So we pedal our way out to Fay’s, an old chain drug store that exists now merely through its faded company logo on sides of some brick buildings in upstate New York. This particular Fay’s would carry some more notoriety many moons later, but for now it was just a bastion of junk food and baseball cards and cheap hairspray, among many things. We sandwiched our bikes around a parking lot pole, locked them together with a plastic-coated wire chain and padlock, and went inside. This Fay's sat to the right of a small Price Chopper plaza, our local grocery store. A couple smaller stores were to the left of Price Chopper, a sub shop and some jewelry place. As a family we hard...