“That’s good chicken.”
When we were younger my brother would call every meat “chicken”. He’d take a bite out of burger? That’s good chicken. He’d eat some fajitas or ribs? That’s good chicken. Of course we got tired of correcting him and he loved how it annoyed us so much that when we stopped correcting him he started calling everything chicken. A milkshake? That’s good chicken. Pancakes? That’s good chicken. He eventually got over it. Now, interesting enough, he only says it when it’s chicken, and only if it’s good.
I, however, have started saying it for just about everything and I don’t know why. Maybe I’m losing my words and have gotten lazy. I just don’t want to think of ways to describe things and I have regulated all that is good to “good chicken”. Going to hold on to that for a while.
In the meantime…
There is this place I enjoy going to eat at called Cowboy Chicken. It’s a restuarant close to one of my go-to coffee spots. It’s specializes in, you guessed it, chicken. It is well known for it’s all-natural wood-fire rotisserie chicken. It has these two nice little rotisserie ovens on a back wall where you can see the chicken being cooked as you eat. Quite a sexy sight if I do say so myself. I often catch myself staring at that wall for a while as my food gets cold at my table. Sometimes my daughter has to come get me. It’s that sexy.
Anyway, the only reason I mention it is because every time I go in I complain about the menu having a mistake in it. They have these two sandwiches on the menu called The Original Cowboy sandwich and the Laredo sandwich. They are exactly the same except that the Laredo has added things on it. It has guacamole sauce, melted cheese, and what they call “cracklins” on it, which is just fried bits of chicken skin. So, it’s more than the original sandwich, but for some reason it has less calories listed on the menu. I have wracked my brain (do you kids still do that?) trying to figure out what that would be so and have not come up with a good reason. And every time I go I mention it to the cashier and they agree with me that it makes no sense and have no reason for it either. I have even mentioned it to both managers I have met there and they can’t explain it either. When I come in now they just hide from me.
If someone has an answer to this conundrum please end my misery and let me know.
On reading books.
I read several books at one time. I really shouldn’t, but I do. I may read 4 or 5 books at a time and therefore take a couple of months to finish the group. I have other idiosyncrasies when it comes to reading. If the book is good enough, if it moves me to love stories and writing enough, I may never finish it. Especially if I know the author is no longer around to write more of the story.
I did that with Out of Africa. I started it a long time back, but have yet to finish it. I pick it up once in a while and read a couple of pages and then put it down. I do this because I love the story, the author, and her writing. I don’t want it to be over and it will be when I am done. I don’t want to be in that place. I don’t want to know the story does not go on. Yet I do know that they don’t go on. Stories have endings.
I did the same thing with Lonesome Dove. I read the book knowing it had some sequels. I have read three of them and have sat on the fourth, knowing the story of Capt. Woodrow F. Call and Capt. Augustus Macrea will be over when I am done with it. So I hold off on it. I feel better knowing it’s out there still. I get anxiety thinking they won’t be some day.
It’s silly, I know. Makes no real sense if you think about it. I could just read it over again like I have done with so many other good books. But there is something to be said for reading something for the first time and I want to hold on to that as long as I can.
Books should make you feel that way.
I don’t know anyone else that does that.
Is Blue blue?
Having moved from one apartment to another in the same complex, Blue no longer has his usual acess to his friends. We used to take him out when he would start crying when he heard his friends outside. Now, it’s rare that one of his friends goes by our new apartment. They all live towards the inner set of apartments and have no real reason to come this way. When we take him out there is also no real reason to head in that direction so he just runs around a bit in front of our apartment and then comes back in.
I wonder if he wonders where they went. I wonder what he thinks happened to them, if at all. If he does he hasn’t mentioned it to me.