clockwise from top left: me and Mom, her pals David and Gloria, a mean sax player, my dance partner, Frank.
After the MRI, it's 2:30 and we're starving. I'm so scattered that I drive all over the Chattanooga area looking for the Picadilly Cafeteria–our old comforting place to eat. I make a few wrong turns and get hopelessly lost. I'm the one who needs the MRI.
We find Picadilly and sit down at our old table with our trays.
Then race back to the Terrace for their dinner dance.
By the way ... this guy Frank is a great dancer. It made me wish I had gone to Mrs. Howell's School of Dance like I was supposed to.
