The Waffle House Picture

I posted a "selfie" taken at a Waffle House just off Exit 49 of I-95 just outside of Fayetteville, NC this morning.

As we speak, it has received a semi-astounding 55 (yes, really) likes on Facebook.

In some ways, I know the joke's on me. Yes, my love of casa del Waffle is as well-known as my affection for Huey Lewis, The Beatles, the Yankees, and the Steelers.

I get ridiculed for it certainly, with "various and sundry" types either mocking me openly or behind my back. Some think it's an obsession.

I also get the "it's so unhealthy for you" types, and I understand that also.

As with anything else, it's all about moderation.

I don't expect you to believe that I do things in moderation. I get teased about French dips and chili-covered whatever.

I'm in on the joke, and I hope you understand that. I play it up. That's why my smile is goofy in the picture. (OK, so it's goofier than usual)

Not that I'm phony about it. I do love exactly what I wrote in the Instagram/Facebook post.

I order an All-Star Special every time, with scrambled eggs with cheese and a plain waffle and ham and hash browns covered, plus white toast (yes, I'm lame) and coffee.

It's tasty, it's fun, and I do it a few times every year, mostly in a spurt when I'm visiting North Carolina.

But I get the joke. I even get the stereotypes.

But it's also a happy place. I need happy places.

We all do.

By the way, Fayetteville's baseball stadium is beautiful. Too bad they're not around this week for me to go to a game.