Wannabe Actors Abounded, But Not One Cracker Barrel

Published: Thursday, July 18, 2013 at 09:51 AM.

We did drive by a place named “The Smokehouse Restaurant, Video Store and Laundry Mat” but we didn’t see it until it was too late. And turning around wasn’t an option! Those folks must have moved here from Tennessee, or Alabama. They would have at least heard of sweet tea! 

Cathy spotted a Chick-fil-A and I crossed over two lanes and made what probably was an unlawful turn into an all night discotheque parking lot. We ran back a block and a half to get a chicken salad sandwich and some waffle fries. The nice cashier told us how to get to the Hollywood sign and also let us know right quick that she wouldn’t be “taking chicken orders” much longer. She gave us her name twice and told us to remember it. Her ex mother-in-law was dating a guy whose sister was formerly married to an executive at Orion Pictures.

I thought about asking for a job at the discotheque. That’s how much I did not want to get back into that car! Apparently Sgt. Friday and Officer Gannon filmed there street scenes in a back lot somewhere.

I did some serious soul searching and hard “life” pondering looking up at that big “Hollywood” sign spread ostentatiously across the hill side. I considered “cool” and “suave” versus “hick” and “naive”. I grew up in a small West Tennessee town. We were not chic by any stretch of the imagination. We couldn’t even spell “hip”. We were about as plain and country as we could get. No airs. No pretense. No highfalutin ideas.

But we didn’t have to put a giant, lighted sign up on the hill to remind us where we lived.


Glad To Be Home, 

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