My cousin and her husband are traveling the US on a fishing tournament circuit. They get to go to backwater lakes and stay in a variety of backwater towns with sometimes 'iffy' accommodations and eating establishments. Sometimes, they get to stay in wonderful places and have a variety of eating options, but apparently in Arkansas, that is not the case.
They recently checked into their tournament quarters for the week, and were told that the town had only two restaurants...there was a pause and the deskclerk added, "One of them is non-smoking." My cousin said it was said in an ominous tone, as if the guy had announced, "One of them is a leprosy-lice-maggot-bubonic plague-disease vector." It's true. The rest of the US doesn't see having a smoke-free environment as anything but suspiciously foreign.
When it came time to eat, much to their dismay, they discovered that the non-smoking restaurant was closed, and were forced to eat in a place that quickly filled their pores and lungs with deadly second hand smoke. The food was grease-on-a-plate, but they were served the best grits they ever had in their lives.
As they looked around, it dawned on them that every single person in the restaurant was wearing a mullet. I've been complaining about that haircut still being in existance and the preferred choice for rednecks everywhere since the 80's! And here it is, 20 years later and people are STILL lining up in droves at "Hack a Mullet" discount haircut stores everywhere! Eventually, it must die out! I don't think they still teach that haircut in beauty schools, so eventually, the people who know how to do it will pass on, right? Leaving a world full of hair dressers who only know how to cut the Jennifer Aniston haircut, right? And this is how we progress and evolve in history. Via a slow progression of ever-changing 20 year old haircuts.
Anyway, as they were sitting there enjoying the ambiance, a nice fellow came in and sat behind them and was hailed by his neighbors in the other booth with cries of joy! Apparently, they hadn't seen him around in a coon's age. Someone asked him, "Hey, there, Bubba! Do you still live in that trailer out on that dirt road?"
Bubba leaned back, stroked his chin and thought for a minute before replying, "Nope, I believed I've moved since then. I live on the paved road, now."