Being an old person, and being in the state of Florida, an inordinate fraction of the day is spent contemplating my next meal. When camping, there is nothing more satisfying than getting up early, building a small camp fire, placing a coffee pot on the coals and then cracking eggs in an iron skillet. Sorry, that ain’t the case here. First of all, no campfires are allowed and second, most of the city folks in these parts don’t even cook on camp stoves. Even the land barges with two bathrooms and a kitchen (complete with fridge, stove, oven and a dish washer) rarely see a home-cooked meal.
For cryin’ out loud, this is the 21st century. We pay other people to make our food, even in a campground. For breakfast, we have several choices. We can go out on the local economy and dine at a Waffle House or IHOP, both are located within 15 minutes of the field entrance. For those wanting to preserve the fly-in vibe, we can have breakfast on campus, at the “Scolly Suz Home Cookin Café” located in the campground, at one of several vendors in the food court, or even at the Antique/Classic Headquarters, where they serve the legendary “Breakfast in a Cup” (sausage, scrambled eggs and grits in a cup) with a cup of coffee for only $5.
The best part about breaking fast at the show is that you will sit down next to some random member of the aviator tribe and immediately connect. This morning I sat next to a Cessna 180 driver from Memphis. We commiserated over parts issues and collectively dog cussed whoever manages parts sales in Wichita. I will always remember the picnic table discussion I had last year with a gentleman whose father was on the crew that trained Neil Armstrong how to land a LEM on the moon’s surface. He carried a photo of his dad and Neil in his wallet.
This morning I went with the breakfast in a cup. It contained the three major food groups; sausage, eggs and grits. Now, I wonder what I will do for lunch today?