Politics and Breakfast Sam-itches.

There is a little place in town, it's been here for as long as I can remember.

It's called the Do-Nut Hole, and used to be owned by a family that lived here in town forever, in fact, I went to high school with the owner's daughter. Many a day my Dad would drive thru to get me a bag of holes and a chocolate milk for the road. Unlike other kids who got hyped up on sugar, it mellowed me out.

Anyway, a few years ago the original owners sold out and hit the road. Can't say that I blame them, anyway a Korean man bought it, kept the same old menu for a long time and went on about the business of selling do-nuts. Lot's of people scoffed, the place would go down hill, it'll be closed in a year, won't be long before they start selling egg rolls.

And ten, maybe fifteen years later, Mr. Kim is still selling do-nuts. (Hey, the sign reads "DO-NUTS"), he's also selling the most wonderful croissaints stuffed with a slice of cheese, a pile of bacon and the thinnest, saltiest, pepperiest scrambled egg you've ever seen in your life. They are a heartattack wrapped up in a napkin, and every morning there are pickups, mini vans, clunkers and beaters lined up at the drive thru with people waiting to purchase the fine wares that Mr. Kim churns out of his kitchen.

That would be kitchens, becuase not only has Mr. Kim kept the original place going, he's expanding.

And there isn't an egg roll in sight.