Speaking of breakfast, I'll never forget the time Tennessee Ernie Ford, Buddy Ebsen and myself stopped into a local Sambo's restaurant back in '66. Buddy got the runs from the blueberry flapjacks while Tennessee demanded to speak with the little arab kid who owned the joint because his hash browns tasted like possum turds. There was hash and shit all over the place. Luckily Shelley Winters came in soon after, got down on all fours and ate whatever was on the floor like a prize winning pig at a trough.