Christmas At Denny's

by Pa Rock

It's hard to be overly festive on the holidays when one is celebrating alone, but I have managed to keep myself amused all day. Over the past twenty-four hours each of my children and grandchildren have phoned in to check on their desert rat dad, and I have called my Dad to see how his holiday is going is going. My sister and niece were at his house when I called, and he had had several visitors.

The first order of business this morning was to open the present sent by my good friend from college, Carla Turnbough Brown. It arrived a week ago, and Ms. Carla had been quite specific that it wasn't to be opened until Christmas. The present was a beautiful glass Christmas tree ornament of our old alma mater, Southwest Missouri State of Springfield, MO. (Don't try to find it on a map, it is now Missouri State University.) Carla and I talked quite a while on the phone discussing Christmas ornaments, college days, our kids, and our upcoming trip to New York City in January. (It will be the first time that we have seen each other in nearly forty years!)

My next project was to re-pot some cactus and clean up some of the mess on my balcony. Cactus, of course, can stay out year-round in Arizona. I didn't get completely done with that project, but I did make noticeable progress. I also started cleaning out closets. I would like to get rid of all of my piles by the time this weekend is over.

After the cleaning spurt subsided, I got in the car and drove off looking for a movie or a place to eat Christmas lunch. Lunch happened first when I discovered that the local Denny's was open - and packed! I sat at the counter and ordered one of their Damned Slams - 4,000 calories when 400 would have been sufficient! From my stool I was able to see the entire kitchen operation where six cooks spun around and weaved in and out of each other's work spaces with the skill and determination of ballet stars. It was kind of watching Holiday on Ice, much better than television! There must have been fifteen waiters and waitresses doing their dance across the restaurant. I only saw two plates dropped, and one of those was the fault of the manager. The most amazing aspect of this experience was how well everyone seemed to be working together, and how happy they all appeared to be. I guess if you have to work on Christmas, you might as well get jolly! I tipped very well!

This afternoon I went to the gym - to work off some of that Damned Slam. Tonight I have a ticket to see Doubt, so by tomorrow I should be raging about pedophile priests and hateful nuns!

Feliz Navidad!

My Evening with June Carter

Being a small town youth and new to college in the now infamous 1960's, I was generally able to find a party or some activity to keep me from the books on the weekends. It was in the deadest part of winter of my freshman year, probably January or February of 1967, that my friend Mike (another small town kid) and I couldn't come up with a plan for Saturday night, and, at the last minute, decided to each invest the amazing sum of $5.00 to see Johnny Cash at the Shrine Mosque. (Five dollars was a significant amount of money when you consider that a semester's tuition at our school, Southwest Missouri State College, now Missouri State University, was just ninety-five dollars at that time!)

It was dark, and snow and rain were competing for dominance as we slogged through a mile or more of slush to reach the reach the famous Springfield landmark where The Man in Black was to perform. We had gotten seated and just started to shake off the wet cold when a man walked out on stage and announced that Johnny's plane couldn't land in Springfield due to the snow. He stood there through the groaning of the audience, and then continued saying that anyone who wanted a refund could collect their money at the door, but anyone who stayed would not be disappointed. Mike didn't have to think it over. He jumped up and entreated me to join him in leaving. Maybe it was the thought of facing that rotten weather again so soon, or the fact that I would still have nothing to do on a Saturday night if I left, but the decision seemed simple to me. While Mike and three-quarters of the audience hit the doors, I moved up to a better seat and settled in for the show.

June Carter, one of the stars of Johnny's traveling show, took that stage in much that same manner as Grant had taken Richmond in the previous century, full-throttle and never giving any quarter. She sang, and danced, and joked and told stories, and played music. Others shared the stage that night including June's sister, Anita, their mother, Maybelle Carter, and a relatively new singing act by the name of the Statler Brothers. But the show was June's from the first joyous note to the final curtain call.

One of the comedy highlights that night was June giving her impressions of ladies she said that she had seen navigating the slush puddles outside of the Mosque earlier in the evening. She did a stately take on a lady from St. Louis crossing a puddle, and a little less dainty version of a lady from Kansas City attempting the same crossing. She tried to close the skit with a hillbillyesque performance of a "gal from Neosho" hiking up her skirts and tromping through the mess. Just as her skirts raised above her knees, someone in the audience snapped a flash picture. June froze in mid-step and glared at the offender, while the rest of us sat in stunned silence waiting to see what would happen next. Finally June pulled her skirts above her head revealing a long, fetching pair of bloomers. When she dropped the skirts she once again glared at the offender and said, "You didn't get a thing with your Brownie Hawkeye, so there!" The timing and physicality were flawless, and the delivery cracked like lightening.

June Carter never left the stage that night. She introduced acts, laced her routines and musical numbers throughout the show, and joined in performances with her family. She even held the held court during the show's only intermission, sitting on the edge of the stage and signing programs, with the sweat literally rolling off of her throughout the break. It was as though she was personally thanking everyone who had stayed for the show and making sure that it was a night all would remember.

And I have always remembered that night, surprisingly well. But the memory became much more poignant a couple of years ago after I saw the film, "Walk the Line." The live show at the Shrine took place one year before Johnny and June were married, roughly the same time period that was reflected in the film. As I watched Reese Witherspoon on the screen, I was seeing the very same June Carter that had given me such a wonderful Saturday night those many years before. Reese rocked - and so did June!

"You didn't get a thing with your Brownie Hawkeye, so there!" --June Carter