Dear Great American Diner.

Oh, the American Diner. In all of your splendor. How the trail of cliches follow you across the country.

Your drunken owner, Buddy, is hardly there, and when he is, he's sitting in the back counting money or sleeping. Your grease-cooking cook, Carl, has been out of prison for years now, but his tattoos still tell the story of his rough life. However, he still isn't afraid to intimidate strange-looking out-of-towners with his scarred-eye. Although the rest of your menu is a hit or miss, crowds of 4-6 people come every morning for Carl's great omlets. That was the one thing Carl perfected in his "time" as a prison cook. Oh, and who could forget the face of your diner, Flo. She is your only waitress, but is as loyal as a golden retriever, even if her story is as cliche as they come (hard-knocked single mom with trust issues). Sometimes your elegant cafe resembles a child's day care, when Flo's ex-mother-in-law has too large of a hangover to keep the kids.

What in the world has made me write this? A small story:

I was recently in a great American Diner, when a young waitress, my age or younger, addressed me as "hun". Before I dismissed this as a polite reference, I had to see the big picture. Flo, in my story above probably calls everyone "hun". And here I see a future "Flo". I couldn't help but to think that calling me "hun" would entrap her to a stereotypical life that will be hard to let go. Not because of her vocabulary choice, but reading what's behind it.

What's the lesson here?

It's easy to be trapped. Sure, you may want to work in a diner for the rest of your life, that's fine, but remember those dreams? It's so easy to be trapped in a good job you hate by security or insurance. Or to be trapped in a bad job, because of the economy. When I was on the road with the African Children's Choir, there was a point in each concert where each kid (7-11 yo) would say what they wanted to be when they grew up. It ranged from doctor, lawyer, futbol (soccer) player, accountant, nurse, etc. Ok, I do understand why I don't want to be a doctor today, but dreams can change. But why don't my actions reflect that? Sometimes it's because of things out of our control, but maybe sometimes it's because we get too comfortable in one place.

Chris