Gourmet Delights
I like my burgers very, very thin, with four or five dill pickle slices (lengthwise is best) and about a quarter-inch of cheap yellow mustard. If I squeeze the bun, the mustard should ooze. Save the lettuce and tomato for some health-conscious person’s salad.
I do not put any salt on a burger.
If the French fries are fat, I need a lot of ketchup.
If the French fries are thin, I don’t need any ketchup.
I sprinkle a little salt on both kinds.
Free refills? I order a small drink and just keep refilling it. No refills? I order the largest cup in the place and try to hold back.
And thank you, no; if I’d wanted cheese, I would have ordered a CHEESEBURGER.
Shake? I can’t help it; I’m old. Oh, you mean. . . a SHAKE! If my blood sugar is low, I’ll have a child-sized chocolate shake, but only if I’m at Steak and Shake, because McDonald’s and all those other fast food places don’t really have shakes; they just have flavored ice cream mix. At Steak and Shake, they have real Shakes.
They have real steak, too; it’s just ground up.
Kind of like the fake french fries in the public schools: they’re not really french fries, they’re potato flake mix put through a mold and deep fried.
They’re more like latkes than french fries. Bland, bad latkes. Latkes shaped like round smiley faces or various holiday icons.
Don’t forget your ketchup. It’s the vegetable today.
Close Encounters of the Real World Kind
Last night at Walmart I ran into a former student and his wife and their new baby girl. This student was a classmate of Belle’s and one of my favorites. He and Belle were in that group of students who were chosen to be in the high school symphony orchestra when they were in the fifth grade.
Even in 8th grade, when he played his violin, he could make shivers go up and down your spine.
He was a really nice kid, and now he’s a really nice man. He plays in a bluegrass band and his violin fiddle playin’ is fantastic. I remember him very fondly.
Their baby was honestly very pretty; usually a new baby looks more like Winston Churchill than those babies you see in catalogues and movies. She was a truly beautiful baby, with a mop of black hair that was amazing for such a newbie.
I always love meeting my former students out in the ‘real world.’ This young man was no exception.
When I got back into the car, I did tear up a little. He had named his daughter for one of his classmates who had died just after high school graduation. She was a really nice girl, too.
Burgers and Fun
It’s really nice out today. Bright, sunny, low seventies. . . why, it’s almost CRISP.
Great weather. Beautiful day.
So we decided to go out.
To the dump.
Hey, “out” is “out.”
Besides, whenever we go to the dump, we stop at Snow’s on the way home. Best burgers on the globe.
In case you’re wondering, we’re dropping off, not picking up. Although, if we saw something cool, we’re not above diving for it. I have friends who are still using the stereo system they fished out of a dumpster in 1974.
The kittens are out on the back deck. They’re not quite sure what they’re supposed to do when they’re outdoors, but it will come to them. So far they’ve mastered pooping in the planters.
They’re very good at it, too.
I think a burger with a pile of dill pickles and a quarter-inch of cheap yellow mustard. . . . some french fries, and of course a ginormous Diet Coke with the wonderful Snow’s soft flat shaved ice. Hub will get a coney (dressed), a fish sandwich with pickles, fries, and a Diet Coke.
We’re occasionally predictable, in the midst of our quirkiness, but we’re really very nice and when you come to visit, you’ll have fun.
Fun, and burgers.
