Who Gives a Hoot?

So a couple of weeks ago we went up to visit my Stepdaughters. We were there to celebrate the older one's birthday. She wanted to go to Macaroni Grill for lunch, so as soon as we pulled into town, it was girls in one car (my wife and her two daughters), and boys in the other (me and their significant others).

Sometime during the course of lunch I made the mistake of telling them I have never been to Hooters. I don't know how that came up, it just did. This left the guys speechless, and before the bill had been paid, it had been decided that a detour on the trip home was in order.

Well, since we ate like Barbarians at the restaurant, none of us guys had enough room for... whatever it is they serve at Hooters, so we just made a quick appearance in the lobby so they could buy me a memento to commemorate my first visit to this fine dining establishment.

This little keychain was the perfect item, so one of the guys grabbed it and handed it to the cashier to ring up. Five minutes later, she called over another waitress to help her find the 'code'. No luck. Now another waitress is involved. Now the manager is summonsed. Now half the staff is up there digging through manuals and notebooks and paperwork.

Finally the manager just hands it over and says "Here. It's on me. Sorry for the trouble". What trouble? We got a free keychain, and half the staff was hanging out up at the register. Mission accomplished!

What is really interesting though is, the keychain had a price tag on it. $3.95. Plain as day. Black and white. But because it wasn't properly 'in the system', they could do nothing with it. I just read about this phenomenon in a very interesting book called Cheap: The High Cost of Discount Culture, wherein they discuss the loss of craftsmanship in this country, even in the area of clerks (and apparently, managers). Very interesting (and depressing) book.

Anyway, it was fun to hang with the guys, and if I were about thirty years younger and single, I might actually go back there and get something to eat. And I would like to thank my wife for being such a good sport and laughing the hardest when I told this story back at the house.

Light Duty

When I was a kid, my Dad would always 'recruit' my brother and me to help install Christmas lights on the house. I swear he would get us up before daylight and have us out there on ladders until sunset. He had the lights all packed in sequence so they would come out of storage in order. The ends were labeled, so we knew which end of the house to start so they would come out right. He had a special wiring harness made to accept the multiple strands, intersecting just above the power outlet. And, finally, he had custom made brackets to attach the lights to the roof without harming the shingles or facia board. And it still took us all day.

Now, my Dad is a retired rocket scientist. Seriously. He was an aerospace engineer during many of the moon shots. One of the reasons they made it all the way to the moon and back is because of guys like my Dad who paid attention to detail. However, this is hanging Christmas lights on a house, a mere 9 feet above the surface of the Earth.

So, now that I have a house of my own to hang lights on, I choose to take a slightly simpler route. I get up about... 10:30, have a long breakfast with my wife, surf the web, check my email, take my mid morning nap. Then I get my one string of lights out, and my custom made roof brackets, and flail away at my yearly Christmas spirit chore. Total time: 45 minutes. And it seems to work out just fine.

Oh! And taking them down is a breeze. I don't even get back on the roof! Just grab one end and yank... and then spend the next twenty minutes looking for 'custom brackets' in the grass.

But then, if I were working at NASA, those astronauts would probably be a lot more nervous about crawling into that rocket ship than they were back when my dad was in charge.

Fitty Years of Burgers

I gotta get this up now while it is still 2010.

I think the first hamburger I ever ate was at this place. And I think it was at their... grand opening. This place has outlasted any other joint for miles. And it was packed the night I took this shot. That little yellow circle at the top of the sign used to say 'Hamburgers 18¢, Cheeseburgers 19¢'. And when we drove up there, I wasn't in a car seat. Nor was I wearing a seatbelt, because they didn't come as standard equipment then.

Omaha Steaks

So if you think Omaha Steaks are a little pricey, consider this:

Their stuff beats anything you can find at the grocery store hands down. They flood you with coupons and deals that bring the prices down almost within reason. But most important of all, they pack your order with dry ice that gives you hours of entertainment in your very own kitchen.

Plain Vanilla

You know you hear and use this cliche all the time. I'll bet you say it at least five times a week. Well, here is your living proof that the term plain vanilla is indeed an oxymoron.

TUBA Diving

Spent the weekend in San Marcos with some good friends. This is the only river running in the Western Hemisphere right now. Not too exciting, but 72 degrees all winter long.

This guy was scouring the bottom for toober loot. I call this TUBA Diving (Tethered Underwater Breathing Apparatus). Don't know the official name. I wonder how long one can stay 6 feet under without building up too much nitrogen in the blood?