I'm a Real Boy Now!

My 12 year old stepdaughter recently noticed that a construction site in Wiggins had made some progress and a building was taking shape. Out front, the sign said, "Coming Soon! Waffle House". She couldn't have been more excited if it was Christmas morning and Santa Claus had just put the latest Disney teen pop idols in her stocking: "Oh, boy, Mama, we're a REAL town now!!"






You'll recognize a Waffle House by its distinctive shoe box architecture and Wheel-of-Fortune-letter-tile sign. I've never understood why they haven't updated their look like some of the other classic national restaurant chains. Garish yellow and shoe box lines aren't even retro chic; they're just ugly.

Down South, though, it is a familiar and beloved ugly. Along with sweet tea, hominy, fried green tomatoes and grits, it is one of those those Southern Institutions that defines the culture. Only hamlets of a certain size are graced with a Waffle House, mind you. If you happen to live in a crossroads, a holler, or a town of fewer than 4,000, you're out of luck.

Since Hurricane Katrina, Wiggins has been growing due to an influx of people who can no longer afford insurance rates down on the Coast. Small town living with at least some amenities has its own appeal to disillusioned city folk, too. Our little town of 3,500 is projected to more than double in size over the next ten years, and the development of several planned communities totaling 3,000 new homes plus strip malls and schools have been approved. In five to ten years, our rural country lifestyle will be a memory. We'll probably have to move farther out to get away from traffic.

We are accordingly being rewarded by the Corporate Powers That Be with yet another auto parts store, a Lowe's, an even bigger Wal Mart, a bowling alley, two strip malls, and that hallmark of Southern Cityhood, a Waffle House. I'm beginning to feel like Pinocchio...