THE BIG TABLE AT ELLEN'S-1
Every town has one or more. That dive where the local curmudgeons gather to solve the world's problems.
Towns where George Washington is still honored publicly with pride.
And patriots are seen on every street corner.
Most of the time, all they order is a cup of coffee and then leave the waitress only a quarter tip after spending up to an hour taking up space and heating the air around them.
I've even seen some sit from breakfast through lunch.
Thus the Big table at Ellen's.
Local guys adding color and entertainment for the rest of the folks who happened to stumble upon the dive. One table which seated anywhere from three to fifteen depending upon how we stacked em.
Loud and always right. Regardless of the subject of the day or hour. It took me a year of eating breakfast on the fringes before I was invited to join the group.
People called Pat, a retired school principle. Bobby, a self made millionaire who ran laundries and car washes. Life was good a quarter at a time. I ran a camera store and film lab. Sonny, a retired DNR officer turned court jester. Jesse, a bank president and CEO. Chief, the best mayor the town ever had. Don who generally wanted to be in Canada hunting deer. And an whole bunch of people who drifted in and out on a semi-regular basis.
Small towns like this one are the remaining backbone of the fabric of this country. Maybe a population of 4,000 in a county four times that large, or small depending upon your view of things.
These are the places where the soul of this country resides.
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