Because of the clowns, dammit! For whatever reason, this is the only cereal that my paternal grandparents ever kept in the house for us to eat in the morning. Non-Sunday mornings, that is. On Sunday mornings we would have one of two choices: Oatmeal or Silver Dollar Pancakes. No matter which, the meal was prepared by my grandfather. At the time, odd as it seems, all meals--important ones, that is, were prepared by the males in the family. Oatmeal was never boring at Grandpa John's house. Real butter, real cream, real honey, real love. He never served the gruel-like mush of Spanky and Alfalfa mythos.

"Don't drink the milk..."
"Why?...."

"Because it's spoilt...."

One of our favorite "Our Gang" episodes.....Not too much unlike the Electric Company's plumber who never gets the job done due to an ugly mishap with a talking avian.

Silver dollar pancakes prepared in an electric skillet. My GOD! One might as well called it deepfried batter. I never thought of it then, but my grandfather put at least a quarter inch of oil in the electric skillet before ever even thinking about adding a teaspoon of buttermilk batter. Like any true pancake afficianado, we watched for broken bubbles vs. whole ones to determine the flipping point. He never burned a set. Amazing as that is, I cannot claim the same. Pass the Mrs. Buttersworth...cheers to you ol' JP.