A Side Order of Nostalgia

Merriam Webster defines nostalgia as “longing for or thinking fondly of a past time or condition.”  Sometimes a song or an inanimate object can trigger the memory.   But in so many instances, it’s a place that fires those nerve synapses.  And joyfully, it happened to me last week.  It’s no surprise because we went to  Tuscaloosa to get our COVID shots.  I didn’t mind going there at all because four of the best years of my life were spent at the University of Alabama. I have buckets of fond memories that begin to resurface the moment I take the University Boulevard exit.  

After a stick in the arm, and a cruise thru campus, we had a decision to make.  Where to eat lunch?  A few of our favorite haunts near the school were closed for spring break.  That lead us to a place that should been at the top of our list anyway. It was barely after 11:00 AM which meant breakfast was still in play, and when I was in school, that meant only one place - The Waysider.   I didn’t need GPS to find it. Despite the number of years, I knew exactly where to go. After couple of miles I made a left on Greensboro Avenue and there it was - a little red house standing defiantly in the midst of a sea of urban renewal.  It almost seemed to be saying, “Yeah, I’m still here - I’ve been here 70 years just like this and I’ll still be here after after all this is gone.”  I smiled. Despite all the changes around it, the Waysider looked the same. 

Once we got inside,  I was shocked.    Almost everything is exactly as it was.   It was like we stepped into some sort of a time warp.  All of a sudden, it was 1975. I checked to see if my hair was longer, and then looked down, halfway expecting to be wearing a fraternity jersey. 

It’s a tiny place -  not much more than fifteen tables or so. One of the two seaters on the right hand side of the room has a bust of Coach Bryant - the Bear was a regular.  The walls are jammed with paintings and prints commemorating just about every important football event in the history of the school.  If someone had the foresight to put a framing shop next door, they would be millionaires.  As we were seated, a warm comfort washed over me, and the memories began to flow. 

I used to take my Mom and Dad here after almost every home football game. We would rush out of the stadium to get one of those coveted tables.  But if we ended up in line, that was no big deal.  Even my father, a paragon of impatience, didn’t complain too much. The fried chicken along with the drop biscuits and honey made any wait well worth your time.  Those biscuits rivaled my Mom’s.  

During my senior year we would take our Wall Street Journals inside and eat breakfast while perusing the financials with some degree of self importance.  However, now I can confess that I was mostly looking for articles about sports while waiting on the biscuits. 

There was a lunch special that looked good, but there was no way I was going to order anything but breakfast.  Soon after, the waitress served up two eggs, salt cured country cured ham, grits, the coveted biscuits, red eye gravy, and a large order of nostalgia. We even split a short stack of pancakes for dessert.  Within an hour, I had ingested enough sodium, sugar, and carbs to make me thankful that my annual checkup was earlier in the week. 

Finally, we sopped our last biscuit, gave up our table, and stood in line to pay our bill.  I noticed two coeds behind me. Naturally, I struck up a conversation because that’s my right as a senior citizen.  

“Have you been here before?”,  I asked. 

One of them smiled and said, “I have, but it’s her first time.”  

“It’s great isn’t it?”, I responded. They both nodded enthusiastically. 

 “And what I really like is it’s exactly the same as the first time I walked in here about 45 years ago.”

Their faces showed genuine disbelief.

 “Are you kidding?”

“I’m not.  And I’ll bet when you come back in a few years it won’t look any different either.”  Proudly, I had sown the seeds of nostalgia  to another generation. 

And I just hope for their sake the biscuits are the same.  I wouldn’t bet against it. 

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#thebestbiscuit

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