I am about to make myself sound really, really old, and maybe I am. But I can remember it being the norm for businesses to be closed on Sundays. Most even closed at noon on Wednesday, presumably so folks could get ready for the middle of the week service. The closest we came to eating out after church was driving to town to get Pop his post-church dipped cone at Dairy Queen. “Your grandfather is the only grown man I know who thinks he needs a reward for sleeping through church,” Granny commented one day.