Sacred cows

For better or worse, right or wrong, there are two institutions I associated with Florida as a growing lad: Publix and Sonny’s Real Pit Bar-B-Q. When I moved with my family to Florida in 1979, there were was one developed corner of what is now a major intersection – and on that lonely corner of incadecent and neon lights sat our neighborhood Sonny’s. With my mother’s unexpected conversion to veganism, we didn’t get to go to Sonny’s all that often – but it was always there, pumping the eye watering smell of the pit into the surrounding air.

When I moved away from home to go to college, we still had a Sonny’s and a Publix. When I moved to Orlando after college, we still had a Publix and a Sonny’s.

Well friends, we don’t have a Sonny’s around these parts anymore. I drove by this afternoon as was shocked to see a pile of rubble where Sonny’s once stood.

I feel like I should send someone flowers, or make a contribution to Sonny’s favorite charity; something to deal with my grief.

Give the gift of words.