BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Continued from $750.00 Later…

Now, at this particular juncture, I am certain that some of you – mostly the male readers, though not all I’m sure – are just dying to know about the hottie in the hooker shoes…

Well, you see, it’s like this… She was a Goth nurse for the RAF back in WWII. Yes… She was way ahead of her time as far as fashion trends go… But anyway, I had been dropped behind enemy lines. Problem is, they forgot to give me a parachute. Fortunately, I bounce.

I was on a mission to steal Hitler’s mustache. Unfortunately, there was an ambush and I was horribly wounded… The bouncing hadn’t helped, trust me. After crawling for 40 days and 40 nights through muddy trenches and seedy Schnitzel Dens, surviving on what little beer and potato salad I could manage to steal undetected, I finally gave in to exhaustion. When I eventually awoke, I was in a hospital bed and the first thing I saw was…

Okay, enough of that crap.

At any rate, we finished dinner while Joyce handled the crisis on the phone. The crisis being the $750.00. What about it? I’m not going to tell you yet.

So… Where was I? Oh yeah… So anyway, the next day, following more doctoring from Joyce, I was treated to a driving tour of Fort Hood by Butch (remember Butch, Joyce’s husband? Good…) who also happened to be my official “handler” for the weekend, and a guy who can fix up one hell of a breakfast. Let me tell ya’, Butch saw to it that I started the day out right, with everything from Santa Fe Omelets, to French Toast, Biscuits, Bacon, Sausage, and all the trimmings. In short, the rest of the country of Texas could take a few lessons from Butch where food is concerned.

Following the tour I did a meet and greet at the store proper. This is where I came face to face with “Bouncy Brandi” the perkiest non-blonde I’ve ever met. I had heard plenty about her already, especially her price tag – remember that phone call about the $750? But we’ll get to that eventually…

Later that evening we gathered at Lolly Central, out on the range, so to speak. Srsly. I kid you not, the directions to get to Lolly and her husband Doug’s house are, Take the highway, go over the river, through the woods, turn off onto the gravel road, then turn off onto the dirt road.

Not kidding.

So, anyhow, we had a BBQ that couldn’t be beat – Chicken, brisket, salmon, and all sorts of trimmings, along with beer. I met and had a chance to chat for a moment or two with Dr. Steven Farmer, the other author guest speaker for the event. Very nice guy with all kinds of interesting things to talk about. During all of this Joyce was still doctoring me with the “Skunk Jooce” and “Healer Tea.”

My buddy Althie, the crazy German woman of Texas, who has been promising me sauerbraten was there too. Guess what? She didn’t bring me any sauerbraten. But that’s okay. She’s been really busy, and she did the next best thing – she brought me the necessary pre-packaged fixin’s, straight from Germany, to prepare my own sauerbraten and Knödel. Just add beef. So, I’ll be whomping that up in the very near future…

But back to the hooker shoes…

During all of this, “Bouncy Brandi” leans over to me and says, “Just so you know, I was really nervous about meeting you. So… for you, $750.00…”

“What?” I asked.

“$750.00,” she replied, all matter-of-fact and businesslike.

Since her husband was sitting just across from me I said to him, “Dude… I think your wife just propositioned me.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “She’s like that. No worries though, we need to finance a room addition so we could use the extra cash.”

“But… $750?” I asked.

Bouncy Brandi leaned over again and said, “Hey, I’m giving you a discount because you’re my second favorite author. Best $750.00 in Texas right here…”

That’s me, ya’know. Always second fiddle to someone.

I told her to let me think about it, because I really wasn’t sure what E K would think of me spending that much money on a perky Goth nurse from WWII.

“Okay,” she said. “But don’t wait too long, or the price goes up.”

…And not a lick of that has anything to do with why this particular entry is called, “Food. It’s Really Not That Hard…” To understand that, we have to jump into the wayback machine and set the dials to OstaraFest 2008…

To Be Continued in Lolly, Lolly, Lolly… coming March 30, 2011…

More to come…

Murv

…Even if you don’t follow them.

A classic line from a classic bit of spoken word, that being Baz Lurhmann’s “Wear Sunscreen.” (To give credit where due, it was written by Chicago Trib Columnist Mary Schmich, actually, and performed by Lee Perry… Produced by Baz, so he tends to get  all of the kudos…)

Now that we’ve set that record straight, suffice it to say, the advice is sound. Of course, as the song also says, advice is a form of nostalgia. A way of fishing the past from the disposal, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

Problem is, when the recycling center isn’t open, all you can do is lob it over the fence and wait to see if they send you a check. By that I mean, teenagers aren’t all that good at reading directions. Maybe some are, but I can only speak from my own experiences. Hey, even I will admit that as a teen I often experienced DADD – Drooling Attention Deficit Disorder – by the time I reached the third sentence in any given set of directions.

It’s probably a hormonal thing, who knows… (Now that I’ve said that, someone with SDD – Satire Deficit Disorder – will be sure to explain it to me.)

The thing about teens afflicted with DADD is that they will do stuff that you just can’t make up. And, in their defense, I’m more than willing to believe that the advances in technology have contributed to this problem.

Case in point, my niece.

Yes, the one who paid someone to stab a carpet needle through the side of her nose and then plug it with a bejeweled booger cork.

Now, the incident in question occurred a few years before the age of Proboscis Piercing arrived, therefore I know it simply had to be a case of DADD, and not brains accidentally escaping through the third nostril. And, I will give her kudos for actually READING the directions. The problem is, she comes from a different time.

Allow me to explain…

It was Christmas as I recall. But then, I’m old, so maybe I don’t recall properly. What I can say for certain was that the family was all gathered at my mother & father-in-law’s house for some sort of all day celebration. Although we had consumed mass quantities of food at some point during this process, the niece was hungry again and wanted something different than the leftovers. In particular she wanted some manner of carb. My mother-in-law rummaged around and pointed her toward a bag of those frozen biscuit pucks.

All good. A biscuit puck or two should certainly fit the bill where carbs are concerned.

Niece read the directions and then set about puck preparation while the rest of us gathered around the table and talked about the various things that non-teenage folks talk about, which is to say, stuff that bores the living daylights out of the teenage folks. Yeah. Grown ups are mean like that.

Four or five minutes into the conversation an odd smell began wafting over the half-wall from the kitchen and into the dining room. I looked up just in time to see the interior of the microwave burst into flames.

Scrambling occurred, and I don’t mean eggs. In a matter of a few seconds the fire was extinguished before it could spread beyond the confines of the newfangled coffee re-heater. Once the crisis was over and the investigation into the origin of the fire began, we didn’t have to look far. There, smoldering in the center of the Pyrex turntable was a charred disc. Truth is, it looked far more like an actual puck at this point than a biscuit.

As one cohesive unit, the entire forensic investigation team turned to the niece (daughter, granddaughter).

“Wow…” she mumbled. “I wonder why it did that…”

We were dumbfounded. “What do you mean you wonder why it did that?” one of us asked.

She shrugged. “The directions said to cook it for ten minutes. It shouldn’t even be done yet.”

The moral of the story? We need to bring back Home Ec in schools. If for no other reason than to teach these kids the difference between an REGULAR  oven, a TOASTER oven, and a MICROWAVE oven before they burn the planet to a cinder. (We’ll save Infra Red and Convection for the advanced class…)

Just think, it could even count as a History credit…

More to come…

Murv