I live in Southern California now, but I grew up in Mississippi, and my mother and her mother

just had the gift of hospitality.

As a matter of fact, one of my fund's memories growing up in Mississippi is waking up on Sunday

morning and just counting down to Sunday dinner.

Now Sunday dinner didn't start at night.

It started around one o'clock in the afternoon, but by the time we got done, it was nighttime,

because we would eat, laugh, talk, sleep, eat back again, graze, laugh, talk, sleep,

and then they bring out the pound cake and then we'll eat again.

So it was just an experience.

We would just lean in and my mom and my grandmother just had the gift of hospitality.

As a matter of fact, at my grandmother's house, she had a whole room set aside for when

company came over that kids couldn't even go in.

Everybody in the room, like an abandoned room, I used to go to the edge of the room as

a kid and look around and think, one day, I'm coming here and sit down, man, I'm going

to be right in here.

You know what I mean?

We had a room cut off.

Usually, that was the room that had to couch with the plastic still on it.

Anybody, oh, come on, can I get a plastic couch witness up in here?

Anybody know what I'm talking about?

Like the couch.

It came with the plastic, and mama said, hey, that's how we're going to preserve it for

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