Small Town Diner

Yankee Small Town Diner

There are some very basic rituals in our lives.  The routine of the morning breakfast at a hangout seems to be a great tradition where oversized folks in little chairs are the norm.  Inexpensive food draws out the heavy contenders.  I can't say I blame them.  Value is important especially during tough times.

My voyeuristic photographer tendencies surface at these places.  I am drawn by the mystique of the hangout like Norman Rockwell was to a Thanksgiving day meal.  These are real people with mundane lives, salt of the earth types.  Not everyone was meant to be the corporate mogul you know.

If the truth be known, sometimes I like hiding in their midst.  I am one of them.  "How ya doing?  Mind if I join you?"  I feel at home and at ease.

There's not much that really separates me from them, a few twist and turns.  Our roots are similar and for a few moments I draw nourishment from them.  I know where I came from and I draw strength from those that surround me.  I am reminded from their communion that I have  strength to draw from.  Sometimes it's good to be reminded.