:mattLandia:

God bless Joe Rogers and Tom Forkner. Seriously. If it weren't for them, I may have missed some of the more sublime moments in my life. These guys founded Waffle House, and in the South, well Waffle House is about as sacred as Christ Almighty and Dale Earnhardt Jr.

Tonight, for example, I was sitting in the warm of a booth by myself, minding my own business and plowing my way through a plate of eggs and grits. As always, I watch the line cook out of the corner of my eye, convinced that one day I'll figure out how they get everything cooked so damn fast. The place was mostly empty so the line cook, a large toothy smilin' black man with gray corn rows was jawing with the waitresses.

"Hey, ya'll wannplay sumthing on the jootbox?

Waitress #1, roared back at him as only southern black women can, "Ooo yeah honey. What number we want girl?"

Waitress #2, my waitress, suggested "How's about a little Mariah. Ooo gurl, she shure can sing..."

Waitress #1's response startled me and made my night all at the same time. In her bellowing, black African queen swagger she said "hell naw gurl. Play 5502. I like to hear me sum Green Day."

So we did. Each patron finding solace in greasy, soul warming food, heads bobbing to Green Day with the most unlikely Green Day fan doing dishes behind the counter.

Yup, god bless Joe and Tom for whipping up grits over Dixie.