Monday, July 23, 2012
What Expiration Date?
I am at my in-laws for my last night in Illinois. It's a good a thing it's only one night because I would have a lot of cleaning to do if it had been more. I don't think they know what the words "Expiration Date" mean. They never get sick because of all of the penicillin they ingest on a daily basis. I once got some milk out of their refrigerator that had the Lindbergh baby holding pictures of missing children out on it. Of course they waited until I had finished my Cap'n Crunch before they told me. I actually believe they are trying to kill me with the rotten pantry choices. Here are a few examples: Frosted Flakes with the fat Tony the Tiger on it, Aunt Jemima was in a glass bottle, and the Green Giant had faded whiter than Michael Jackson. I have cleaned this pantry out several times, 'til the point of they thought I should start my own service. I guess now that I don't live around here anymore, no one checks labels anymore or they just see them as "suggestions." Let's see what's on today's menu. Wait! Holy crap! Isn't that the fruit basket I gave them back in '98. Uh-oh! This is the collection of jellies from Christmas '93. And this...I don't know what this is/was. Let me check these cans over here. Well, that would have been a good year had it been wine instead of Hawaiian Punch. Hey, wasn't there a recall on these about 15 years ago and then the company went belly up. Yeah, I'm pretty sure the only expiration date that they are worried about is mine. That's why I played "sick" the day they wanted to go to the gator farm and swamp tour. Well, I gotta go. It's time to play "For Whom the Dinner Bell Tolls."
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Tony's, an Albino Catfish, and a Racist
We had some family down over the weekend. It's really hard to be a tour guide for family and friends. You never know what they will like or hate. Anyway, after a few hours at the Baton Rouge Zoo, we thought we would take our guests to Tony's Seafood Market and Deli. It's a very interesting place and the food is out of this world good.
Gretchen discovered Tony's while teaching two summers ago. What's funny about it is that most people in the BR would consider Tony's to be in the hood. And some were shocked that we were there at 6:30 on a Saturday night. My feeling is that most people are good natured and I probably have the same chance of getting a cap busted in my ass at the local Wal-mart as I would at Tony's. ( stepping off the soapbox)
As you enter Tony's, there is a giant tank full water and catfish. There is a short wall and walkway for the workers between the patrons and the tanks. In that walk way, the workers will pull out the catfish on to the floor. They flip, flop and shimmy around the floor until they are picked by a customer to be taken home. The fish are then pinned to the wall, de-finned, and filleted. There's blood all over the wall. It's quite a site.
Back to our visit. One of the catfish attempting to escape the carnage happened to be an albino. Everybody was crowding around to see it. Apparently, there is some curse that comes along with the albino catfish. So, I highly doubt anyone takes him/her home. I'm not even sure what happened to it. Anyway, as we are finishing gawking at the abnormality, word spreads about the albino catfish. Upon hearing about the albino, an elderly black lady says "An albino catfish? It must be for them" and proceeded to point at us. I have no idea whether she was being mean or funny. But I thought that was funny as hell. Jokes about race can be funny as long as there not mean spirited. And when it comes to jokes about race, everyone should lighten up. (who keeps putting this soapbox here)
I thought everyone heard her but it turns out I was the only one. They all had a good laugh when I told them about later. After witnessing enough ichth-ocide, we decided to order our food. Rob (brother-in-law) thought we should order the Seafood Tray. (you can access the menu in the above link) The tray is for 10-12 people. Uhhh there are 10 of us but 6 are kids but okay. Oh and let's kick in a quart of gumbo for just good measure. The order lady seemed unsure of our order and called a manager over. He took our order and said it would be 20 minutes. That was cool because we could walk around the store looking at all the Cajun items.
As I was standing waiting, my little one comes up and tries to tell me that her brother had hit her with something. I glance over and see he has a miniature size oar used for stirring gumbo, swinging it around like he's Zorro or Bruce Lee. I yell over at him to stop but he can't hear me. At this moment, I hear someone yelling "Excuse me! Excuse me!" It was a cashier trying to get my son's attention. Yeah, good luck lady. "Excuse me"? You might as well have been yelling "Hey, I'm a dumb-ass don't listen to me." Anyhow, I get his attention and he quits...for then anyway. And the cashier goes back to her duties. I continue to wait for our food when I turn to see that he has that damn paddle again. After a brief discussion of what I was going to do with the aforementioned paddle, he decided that putting it back on the hook was a good idea. At some point, the manager brought the food to Carmen (sister) and they wave me over to the check-out. I couldn't believe the size of the bag. I've gone on a week long business trip and used a smaller bag. It smelled so good. But when we got home and ate..WOW! It was so good. 10-12 people? HA! I laugh at your suggestion. We didn't finish it all but damn near did. It was the best food I have had out in long time. 5 STARS!
Gretchen discovered Tony's while teaching two summers ago. What's funny about it is that most people in the BR would consider Tony's to be in the hood. And some were shocked that we were there at 6:30 on a Saturday night. My feeling is that most people are good natured and I probably have the same chance of getting a cap busted in my ass at the local Wal-mart as I would at Tony's. ( stepping off the soapbox)
As you enter Tony's, there is a giant tank full water and catfish. There is a short wall and walkway for the workers between the patrons and the tanks. In that walk way, the workers will pull out the catfish on to the floor. They flip, flop and shimmy around the floor until they are picked by a customer to be taken home. The fish are then pinned to the wall, de-finned, and filleted. There's blood all over the wall. It's quite a site.
Back to our visit. One of the catfish attempting to escape the carnage happened to be an albino. Everybody was crowding around to see it. Apparently, there is some curse that comes along with the albino catfish. So, I highly doubt anyone takes him/her home. I'm not even sure what happened to it. Anyway, as we are finishing gawking at the abnormality, word spreads about the albino catfish. Upon hearing about the albino, an elderly black lady says "An albino catfish? It must be for them" and proceeded to point at us. I have no idea whether she was being mean or funny. But I thought that was funny as hell. Jokes about race can be funny as long as there not mean spirited. And when it comes to jokes about race, everyone should lighten up. (who keeps putting this soapbox here)
I thought everyone heard her but it turns out I was the only one. They all had a good laugh when I told them about later. After witnessing enough ichth-ocide, we decided to order our food. Rob (brother-in-law) thought we should order the Seafood Tray. (you can access the menu in the above link) The tray is for 10-12 people. Uhhh there are 10 of us but 6 are kids but okay. Oh and let's kick in a quart of gumbo for just good measure. The order lady seemed unsure of our order and called a manager over. He took our order and said it would be 20 minutes. That was cool because we could walk around the store looking at all the Cajun items.
As I was standing waiting, my little one comes up and tries to tell me that her brother had hit her with something. I glance over and see he has a miniature size oar used for stirring gumbo, swinging it around like he's Zorro or Bruce Lee. I yell over at him to stop but he can't hear me. At this moment, I hear someone yelling "Excuse me! Excuse me!" It was a cashier trying to get my son's attention. Yeah, good luck lady. "Excuse me"? You might as well have been yelling "Hey, I'm a dumb-ass don't listen to me." Anyhow, I get his attention and he quits...for then anyway. And the cashier goes back to her duties. I continue to wait for our food when I turn to see that he has that damn paddle again. After a brief discussion of what I was going to do with the aforementioned paddle, he decided that putting it back on the hook was a good idea. At some point, the manager brought the food to Carmen (sister) and they wave me over to the check-out. I couldn't believe the size of the bag. I've gone on a week long business trip and used a smaller bag. It smelled so good. But when we got home and ate..WOW! It was so good. 10-12 people? HA! I laugh at your suggestion. We didn't finish it all but damn near did. It was the best food I have had out in long time. 5 STARS!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
A Day in the Morning Life - Volume 2
A lot has changed since I wrote volume 1. This day started at 3:30 A.M. I hear a thump. I figure it's the middle child rolling over into the wall again. "Hmm. What's that smell? Popcorn?" That can only mean one thing...the oldest is up. I go to his bedroom and he has a bag a popcorn and his PlayStation is on. "What are you doing?" "I was hungry." "Turn off the game and go to bed." More on this later. Back to bed I go. I gotta be at work by 8. I drag myself out of bed at 7:20. I have never been a morning person but this morning is unusally tough. I shower, shave and etc.. 7:34 Gotta leave before 7:45. Turn on the iron. The company has decided that khakis are now acceptable. I iron the khakis and lay them aside. I look for an "a-shirt" aka "wife beater". I head to the laundry room. There they are at the bottom of the dirty pile. Okay plan B. Find a plain T. Hmm. Nope. Nope. Nope. Ahh. Well it's black under black oh well. Back to the pants. I put them on and they have no button. 7:42. Grab a black pair of pants and put them on. (no iron) I wake the boys. The oldest needs is meds. "What's this blanket doing by the door?" As I'm asking, I realize the answer. It was rolled and placed in front of the door to hide the light of the late night video game playing. 7:45 I'm gonna be late. I text my boss and co-worker and let them know. I nuke some left eggs and bacon and make some coffee. The oldest takes ADHD meds. He is now on a patch. I recommend it for your parents of ADD/ADHD kids. He is struggling to put it on. I sit my breakfast down to help. As I reach to help, I knock my bacon and eggs onto the floor. ARGHHHHH. I help him, then scrape my breakfast off the floor and back into the bowl. I grab my lunch, coffee and breakfast kiss the little one bye and off to work I go. Yes, I ate the eggs and bacon. I clock in at 8:08.
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