What always amuses me — perhaps because I have a distorted sense of humor — is how happy the pigs always look on barbecue joint signs.
Either they are blissfully unaware of their fate, or they are happy to contribute to the satisfaction of the customer who enjoys a mouth-watering barbecue sandwich.
The pigs were always well-dressed, too. Leonard's had its famous neon sign showing "Mr. Brown Going to Town," dressed in a tuxedo and twirling a cane. Here, the happy pig has a nice chef's hat and festive red bow tie.
These about-to-be-barbecued pigs had class, I'll give them that.
Little Pigs, tucked away in a strip of brick buildings on Highland, was one of my favorite places.
I could spend some time here telling you when the place opened, and who owned it, and when it closed. But I just don't feel like doing that. Besides, the sign tells you it opened in 1942.
Tonight I was looking through some of my 50,000+ Memphis images and found this snapshot of the sign that was painted on the side of their building (on the brick chimney, actually) and wanted to share it with you. Oddly enough, it's the only photo of the place I have.
I remember it as being a typical "old-timey" joint, with maybe a half-dozen tables inside, perhaps some booths against the wall, and a high wooden counter where you placed your order and waited. I think there was also a tiny walk-up window, if you didn't want to come inside, for some reason. The guy perched behind the cash register could take orders from the counter or the window without moving from his seat.
I also remember a worn patch in the floor, just inside the entrance, where you could see half-a-dozen different layers of linoleum, worn through by the hundreds (thousands?) of customers who dined here over the years.
But mainly I remember the barbecue. And the sign.
