By Bill King
I must admit I loved the big boy. I was 10 or 11 years old when I first saw him. Not only was he bigger than me, but he seemed bigger than life. Every time I went to visit, he was always out front to greet us with a welcoming smile. Even though he’s been gone for a long time now, since 1977 to be exact, I can still imagine him standing there wearing his signature red-and-white checkered overalls. He never had a hair out of place in his brown pompadour hairdo. Of course, that might be explained by the fact that his hair was one solid piece of plastic. His name was written in blue letters right across the front of his white shirt. We simply called him Big Boy, but his full name was Shoney’s Big Boy. Then, suddenly one day, he was gone. He didn’t die; he just disappeared without explanation. The demise of the Big Boy may have been by his own doings, but I think mainly it was brought about by the fickle change of our culture. His departure may have been the beginning of the demise of the restaurant too.
I have my own theory about what caused the Big Boy to fall out of favor and be done in, but first, a little more about the restaurant. Shoney’s was not the first to use the Big Boy as their mascot. Even though he has been long gone from Shoney’s, other restaurants such as Elias Brothers, Frish’s, and Bob’s still use him. Shoney’s was founded in 1947 in Charleston, West Virginia. They franchised with the Big Boy organization then. Shoney’s quickly became labeled as “Today’s All-American Kitchen.” The Big Boy held up the All-American hamburger in his right hand. It was called the Double Decker Big Boy Burger.
Before long, most cities in the Southeast, of much size, had their own Shoney’s. At their peak, there were over 1800 restaurants in 36 states. They even had their own motels for a while, called Shoney’s Inn. In the 1990s, Andy Griffith advertised for them. He touted their shrimp dinner and that fabulous breakfast bar. If Andy ate there, who wouldn’t? I certainly did. On Friday evenings, they served “All you can eat catfish.” A college friend of mine and I ate so many catfish one Friday night that the waitress refused to bring us more. I said, “I thought this was all you can eat?” She replied, “It is. And you have had all you can eat!” I loved to finish up with that scrumptious strawberry pie or a piece of their delicious hot-fudge cake. What is not to love about two pieces of chocolate cake with a flat square of vanilla ice cream sandwiched between them, drowned in hot fudge?
Sadly, these days you will have a hard time finding a Shoney’s. There are only 163 in the nation these days and only 9 in Alabama. It may have been all those delicious meals, especially that giant breakfast bar and those wonderful desserts, that were the downfall of the Big Boy. He did, after all, have some chubby cheeks and a pot belly that would give dear ole Santa a run for his money. Was it simply by coincidence that at about the same time the fitness craze and workout videos came to town, Big Boy was run out of town? This does give me cause to consider that maybe I need to drop a few pounds myself. Culture can certainly be a fickle unforgiving friend. I’m sure glad God is not that way, or we might all be in trouble!
