MY FRIEND IS IN GAN EDEN, AND I'M FEELING BETTER, MYSELF
Sometimes the necessity of intercity travel gives birth to passion for cuisine less than haute. Drive anywhere in these parts and a highway exit will lead you nowhere if not to Waffle House.
Waffle House is the essence of good-ol’-boy South. No waitress will be hired unless she has less than four teeth. No one has ever slashed my tires for acting like a Yankee, but let there be no doubt: Waffle House is sanctum sanctorum of Billy-Bob-Betty-Sue-big-hair-pickup-truck-molasses-accented-bubba . . . let all others keep silent.
A sure sign you’re a Yankee is to order a waffle at Waffle House. People you can trust order eggs, grits, toast, and ham, bacon or sausage. What kind of cabal, I conjecture, has placed a hechsher on the margarine that accompanies the toast? My invariable choice is an uncomely blob of scrambled eggs and American cheese. With each forkful I dip in a puddle of ketchup, I wonder why my generation thought it needed LSD.
Nearing the end of her life, my mother’s once-robust appetite had dwindled. As her dear friend Ed Krick lingered near death, she stopped eating almost entirely. On our way back to Greenville after the funeral, I begged her to take something. No. Simply not hungry. But I was. So, I pulled off the highway and headed for Waffle House. Mother dawdled over a crust of toast as I embarked on my cheese-and-eggs. The next second, though, I spied her poking her fork at my eggs and taking a tentative taste. “An oysnam!” (Beyond words!) she declared. In a moment, she vacuumed the plate clean. She was aglow. “We must do this again!” she announced. She called over each waitress, kissed her and tipped her $5.
Sated and refreshed, we hit the road again. A few moments later, my tire blew out. Story of my life. I swore and ranted and cursed. Mother, as always, though, knew how to silence me: “Maishe Chayim, my friend Edward is safe in Gan Eden. I fressed for the first time in days. I will not let anything ruin my day. Leiben zol (Long live) Waffle House!”
January 12, 2005
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