Not all that long ago, just forty-five or six years, our favorite Sunday morning restaurant in Lincoln was Rocky's Pancake Ranch on North 48th Street. In the Sixties dining out for any meal was reserved for special occasions. What a contrast to now when a sit-down meal at home is reserved for special occasions in many families.
Rocky's wasn't fancy, but it had "Fabulous Flapjacks", darn good golden brown waffles, three or four syrup flavors, and coffee for a dime. The cowboy decor appealed to my little brother, but the cast iron spurs on the hanging light chandeliers made me nervous. Growing up in an age of falling cartoon anvils and pianos, I worried about sharp spurs crashing down from above.
My walking buddy's retired dad is worrying about iguanas falling out of the trees during Florida's cold snap. I just hope the iguanas don't land in the syrup.
© 2007 Nancy L. Ruder