TheBakersfieldCalifornian.com

My wife called. She was alarmed. When your wife is alarmed, sometimes it makes sense to embrace that urgency yourself.

"Karen called and had some bad news," she said. "She went to Dewar's Monday and said it was closed. The shades were down, there was paper over the windows and a sign on the door that read, "Closed. Visit our new store on Calloway."

If I'm not mistaken, the implication was that the Dewar family was closing their store on Eye Street.

I'm not going to roll out my credentials here like movie credits, but I have been doing this job for at least 25 years and I've heard some strange things. However, Dewar's closing the flagship store, the one the family first opened in 1909? This was about as cockamamie a thing as I've ever heard.

I walked over to the breaking news editor. El queso grande . Even though I'm in features, in what they call soft news, I'm not averse to breaking a story. If the story turned out to be true, I could quietly take credit for it. If it wasn't true, I could blame it on Karen, a wonderful person to whom I might attribute a lively imagination.

"A friend just called my wife," I said to Christine. "She went to Dewar's on Monday to buy some peanut butter chews and it was closed. She thinks they might be shuttering it."

I've gotten some wicked double takes before, but the double take Christine gave me was one for the ages.

"Closing the original Dewar's!" she exclaimed.

I don't use the word "exclaimed" often; it's akin to using exclamation points, which is sort of the cheater's way of conveying surprise. However, when someone gives you a double take like that, verb choice is out of your hands.

"Courtenay just did a story on their new store opening last week," she said. "Dewar's specifically said that they would be keeping their old store open."

Did they? Well, maybe they changed their minds. Karen went after school, and when was the last time Dewar's closed at 3 p.m. on a Monday?

By this time, I had sold myself on the idea that Dewar's was closing the store that I had gone to after junior high with Jeff Millar to order a Black and White. The store we had taken our kids to on warm summer evenings after dinner for a scoop of peppermint ice cream. The store that I had occasionally snuck out to during the work day to reward myself with a chocolate-covered cherry.

I found myself going into a rage. How dare they close downtown? Did they really think that the people who lived downtown, in Oleander or in the northeast would follow them to the northwest?

How dare they? Did they know who they were messing with? I've taken on other Bakersfield institutions; don't think I won't put you in a half nelson.

This was potential front- page news. The New Hampshire primary, the drought -- those stories would pale next to Dewar's closing the Eye Street store. The only thing analogous would be Luigi's closing down in Old Town Kern and moving to The Marketplace.

"If they move, I'll never go there again," I said, planting my flag in the rich downtown soil.

"I'll call Courtenay," Christine said, realizing the gravity of the situation.

Courtenay, who was flummoxed as well as off duty, volunteered to go by the store and check.

A few minutes later, she called back.

"I drove by," she said. "There are cars in the parking lot, people in the store and they seem to be enjoying themselves."

The next day I called Dewar's for an explanation. They said the store had been open all day Monday. I accepted their explanation and I will consider it an apology. I will debrief Karen later.

The world is back to normal. Dewar's is where it should be -- nearby and open for business.

These are the opinions of Herb Benham, not necessarily those of The Californian. Email him at hbenham@bakersfield.com