The Breakfast Club

Last week, I had to meet with one of the teachers at the middle school. I'm the treasurer for one of the school organizations. When I dropped M off, I saw that teacher had car duty that morning and decided to go waste time for about half an hour. I headed to Hardee's.

I love going into the Lucedale Hardee's early in the morning. There is a group of older men that meet there every morning (at least they have been there any morning I've been there.) They take over several tables on the south side of the dining area. Plaid flannel shirts and denim overalls are the uniform of choice topped, of course, with John Deere caps or ones with fertilizer logos. The conversation was mostly "T's": trucks, tractors, trailers, trees. I did hear a dog and someone's dad mentioned, too. It was not the same men the whole time I was there. Some would pick up their trays and say their good-byes, making room for newcomers. The table was full of laughter and friendship---kinship, I guess I would call it. Some of these men have probably been friends for longer than I've been alive. They know all about each other and yet don't get tired of meeting for breakfast at Hardee's in town. It's their generation's version of facebook.