A part in 11/22/63 gave me goosebumps. There was a dead-on description of my dad...even if it was partially correct. The scene of charming Frank Dunning (one of the bad guys...my father was a good guy) who is a butcher (that's what they called meat-cutters back in the day) in the Center Street Market. It brought back memories. I recall at a very young age, the women customers standing in front of the meat display case in a small market in a small NE town and the not so comforting, enlightening thought: Those smiles are not for those pork chops or the hamburger, running through my head. My dad was a very handsome, amicable guy who, yes, was charming in an innocent way...or perhaps not so innocent. Flirting amongst adults not married to each other in the early sixties was very discreet.