So how did I get into writing about diners? It didn't start overnight. My passion for diners developed over years and years. See, both sets of grandparents lived 500 miles away from where I grew up. A few times a year, my family and I would take that long road trip just to visit them. Along the way, we stopped at various diners, restaurants, and eateries. Some were good. Some were bad. Others were fantastic.
Some of these places almost seemed like they were traveling to see me. Like I was their rest stop. Parts of them have never left me. Just like parts of me are still in them. Even in the places that aren't there anymore.
My folks and I still take more or less the same road to visit family. Some of those places are gone for various reasons: closing down, burning down, or being bought out. But I still know where they were. In my mind, even though my body passes them by, I am still sitting in them indulging in my favorite meal.
Some of the family we visit is gone as well. But I know where they are, too. Just like the diners, they're all inside me.
Good writing . . . and good dining.