The drive from Crystal River, Florida to Atlanta is about seven hours. I know this because my parents bought their “winter place” there last year, which was my first Thanksgiving wearing shorts. I thought that would be weird, but hell, it’s always awesome to be able to wear shorts and sandals….LOVE IT!
A lot of thoughts randomly occured while driving home last night, monotonously coming upon small Georgia towns, and trashy truck stops….”who the hell lives in Smarr?”, “should I follow the guy going 120 mph, he must have a radar detector”, “can you imagine the strippers at the truck stop strip joint?” Or the endless memories brought on by the music I play, both teen stuff and more recent goodies like the visual from “Dirty White Boy”….Mmmmm, can’t wait to see mine!
In case you don’t know (and why should you?), Crystal River and nearby Homosassa are home to the manatees. We visited the state park where I saw some of these prehistoric critters. The photo shows one eating kale.
Me and my Mom made our traditional turkey, cornbread dressing, green beans, sweet potatoes, and cranberry sauce, apple crumble, all healthier versions than most folks. I find that I can stuff myself without feeling nearly as nauseous when the fat and sugar content is reduced….hooray!
Last year, on the drive home, I treated myself to my annual (OK maybe it’s more like quarterly) Krystal cheeseburgers. It was a miserable torrential downpour almost the entire drive, through the interstate construction and in the dark, with an ornery cat crawling over me and under my feet. Me and the Bunny ate our Krystals in my car in the parking lot, both of us scarfing them down with the rain all around us.
So, I’ve decided this will be our tradition. No rain this year. We went through the drive through ordering four cheese Krystals, one with bacon. A few months ago I got one with crispy onions. Both extras sound delicious but anything, and I mean anything, other than the standard ingredients of beef(?), cheese, onions, mustard, and greasy steamed bun really fuck up the whole thing.
Surprised that a food writer loves Krystals? I have a long history with the burger of white trash legend. I grew up where they originated, in Chattanooga, so I grew up eating them. I hated ground meat as a child so Krystals were ideal….the meat was almost invisible!
Then there was the time my highschool lover and I were forced to say goodbye. His parents were moving to Florida or Pennsylvania or something and we were drunk, crying, making out. The beer made me hungry (it was “more than a feeling”), so we got Krystals to go. Not a pretty sight, me crying, drunk, and eating Krystals sitting on the curb in the culdesac in his parents’ neighborhood.
The Krystal on North Druid Hills was me and my college roommate’s regular 4am alcohol absorption stop after many long nights out at the Metroplex.
Fast forward to tonight, me and my fluffy child chowed down. She acts like a starving street pussy when she smells Krystals, but only ate a couple of pieces of meat(?) before she commenced to barfing in the back seat. Lovely. She already took a dump in her litterbox. That’s what I get for letting her roam freely in the vehicle.
I enjoyed them, however, and hit the road again to the tune of Chris Isaak’s “King of the Highway”. If I had a little girl, I think I’d have to name her Crystal….or Krystal.