Many moons ago

and that would be harvest moons, because it's harvest moons that I remember most about Nashville, Tennessee, where I lived for over five years, I worked at a small restaurant on Music Row called The Slice of Life. It was very funky, owned by a Korean woman married to a Jewish professor, and we served mostly vegetarian food to whatever hipsters were already turning Nashville into a very cool place and, of course, music industry luminaries. When I started at the Slice, as we called it, I had just quit my job as an editor in the research department of a local brokerage firm. I hated that job with all my heart, the job at The Southern Firm, and when I started waitressing I knew that I'd eventually want to start cooking in the kitchen with Paul, the white uniformed chef who worked five days a week on furlough from the penitentiary where he was serving time for murdering his wife.

Yes, the first person who trained me in the food service industry was a felon. But that's another story -- perhaps for the food blog that I am woefully neglecting?

Anyway, during my years at the Slice I served food and collected tips from many music celebrities, and I won't go into that here either because who wants to drop names? But purely in the interest of this particular post, I'll share with you that Garrison Keillor ate at my table one night and when he left, he left me a $100 tip. Since the highest priced item at the Slice was probably around $12, and there were only four people or so at the table, and while I was an awfully cute girl in my mid-twenties and a kick-ass, organized waitress who NEVER made mistakes, this was a generous tip indeed.

So, I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Garrison Keillor and today I read yet another wonderful essay of his over at Salon. Please read it HERE. It's not like he needs it or anything, but I'm doing a little payback.