Fix your taillight for heaven's sake!

Strange Coincidence

Do you wanna know what the biggest coincidence in the world is? Pretend you do.

No, it’s not that your keys are always in the opposite pocket of your freehand. That’s ceased being a coincidence. The Society for Correctness in Word Usage has now labeled that occurrence as customary. (By the way, the SCWU is having a fundraiser Tuesday evening at The Ice House.)

No, the biggest coincidence in the world has to do with defective taillights. A study at Dartmouth University found that 97.4 percent of all cars with defective taillights are driven by people soon to be arrested for something.

Just odd as it can be. Last week I read about a guy who wasn’t even driving the single tail-lit car. He was just a passenger. Yet, come to find out, there was a felony warrant out on him. Police would not have known to arrest him had he not been in a car with a defective taillight.

I don’t know what that tells you, but it tells me that if you’re gonna do the crime, you’d better check your taillights. It also tells me that the law that prevents felons from keeping company with other felons and from owning firearms should be expanded to include driving a car with more than one taillight operational. We wouldn’t even have to have probation officers. The police would constantly be stopping P.I.s and seeing what they’re up to. – What? Oh, It stands for “Previously Incarcerated.” According to the SCWU, “ex-con” is no longer acceptable.

What makes the defective taillight/criminal ratio all the more bizarro is the fact that I couldn’t tell you the last time I saw a car with a defective taillight. I’d come closer to seeing a whopping crane perched on my satellite dish. That must mean that crime is down. Way down.

Used to, it was common as could be to see cars with only one operational taillight… or headlight for that matter. We had a ’54 Ford pickup that came with only one taillight. The left side had a reflector, but no light.

It also had no blinker lights and no power steering. The truck was impossible to steer with one hand, yet, by law, I was supposed to give a hand signal while going into my turn. Couldn’t be done.

Fortunately, I had no police record, or as fate would have it, I would’ve been pulled over every day. – “Mr. Hayter, do you know why I pulled you over?” – “Well, I haven’t checked my taillights, but I assume I must’ve robbed the Sinclair station back yonder. I can’t buy a break.”

So, where am I going with all this, you ask? Well, somebody’s bound to have. The recent article about the defective taillight arrest got me to thinking. When I was young rambunctious teen, Tommy Cromeens and I were pulled over one night at about 1:30. We were out looking to rumble. Or, looking for a 24 hour Shipley’s Donuts.  I can’t remember.

Anyway, the officer pulled us over, put the ol’ light in our faces, studied us for a few seconds and then said, “We were looking for two guys in a car like this. We think they robbed a, uh, a 7/11 on, uh, Burke. Or, Red Bluff. One of those.”  He then suggested we call it a night.”

I didn’t mind the experience at all. Gave me the false impression that I looked tough. We were all the talk at school on Monday. “Hey, they yanked Tommy through the window. Me? I wasn’t going down without a fight.” Our friends wouldn’t have laughed so much had our reputations been just a little tarnished. Turned out to be a big embarrassment.

The weird thing is, had Tommy and I been tokin’ on reefer, or bootin’ the ol’ gong (work with me here), we wouldn’t have been stopped for driving in a car the same model as one involved in a robbery. No, we would’ve been pulled over because we had a defective taillight.

For the life of me, I don’t see how that happens. I imagine any day now the ol’ SCWU is going to change the defective taillight/criminal-pullover occurrence from “coincidence” to “customary.” And, I’m not even sure what that means.

END

You can view Brad and Mark’s latest restaurant by clicking on photo.

Ten years later

“Sunrise”

    ROOFTOP -- Anybody know what time sunrise is this morning? Anybody? Oh well, no worry. Li’l Orphan Annie assures us that the sun will come out… come what may. That little 87 year-old girl is just as perky as can be. We need perky.

    I might’ve researched the timing of sunrise, but the decision to climb up here was one of those spur of the moment things. I’m just shocked that a few of you were awake and alert enough to join me. Shows fortitude. Shows something.

    I dragged our buns up here ‘cause I just couldn’t sleep. I was stewing over my article. Not this one. I haven’t written this one yet. No, it was the one I wrote a few hours ago. I thought it best to write something about 9/11, this being tenth anniversary of the horrid event.

    Since so many others were writing about it, I figured I should. Didn’t think it proper to write my usual humor piece, so I got serious. Took me three stabs at it, but I finally ended up with something. Something I really didn’t like. I sounded like a guy who needed direction. I was all over the place. Got into history, politics and social values.

    And, were it not for Kay, I would’ve sent it in to my boss. You can only imagine the amount of bad stuff that girl has kept from you. 

    Like I say, I was in need of direction, so I dragged my rear out of bed and headed to the roof. I heard a wise man once say that if you can’t sleep, don’t fight it. Perhaps God is trying to get your attention about something.

So, here I am. And, here you are. Looking for direction? Well, from up here we’ve got direction in spades. Any minute now we could even get a glimmer of guidance.

Speaking of glimmer, I can see a faint glow right over yonder. I don’t know what time it is, but the sun is definitely on the rise. No, it’s over there in the east. See? No, Peggy, the other east. There you go. Looks like it will be joining us in just a few minutes. I need to assign one of you to keep an eye on it. No, Peggy, let’s let Claudia. Okay, both of you! Sheesh.

What? Oh, before I got the ladder out, I noticed the thermometer read 63 degrees. Almost wish I had thought to bring a long-sleeved shirt. And, Scott, I wish you had thought to throw some pants over your pajamas. Who sleeps in pajamas? Hey, it was rhetorical!

Doesn’t it feel absolutely great up here? I wonder how long we’ll remember this moment. What is the half-life of a memorable moment? Again, rhetorical.

Last night’s article had a part in it about remembering where I was when 9/11 happened. I thought it an interesting story. Interesting to me. But, who cares where I was? Phil, rhetorical. 

We were all somewhere? And, we each have our thoughts of that day. I absolutely hate it when someone describes something as being “surreal.” Just so overdone. But, let’s face it, that was pretty much the sense of the day.

Ten years ago. What’s happened since then? Have things gotten better? Worse? Seems we’re a little less patriotic than we once were. I bought two new flags and some flag decals after the disaster. I still fly those same flags on celebratory days. They’re a bit faded, but I can’t see me replacing them. Maybe when things settle down a bit.

And, yes, Peggy, here comes the sun. Annie was right, again. Just look at that orange glow cutting through the pines. In lieu of the fire season, I’m so glad I’ve still got my pines. They could catch fire and burn the house tomorrow, but right now they’re providing quite the spectacle.

And, yes, it’s a cool 60+ degrees right now, and it will be in the 90s later in the day. But, now, it feels all right. We’re quietly sitting, looking, listening. Right now is good.

This moment reminds me of one of my favorite passages. “Be still and know that I am God.” -- He just got my attention.

END

To view Mark and Brad's latest restaurant review click on pic below.   

Not good a waiting

“The DPS Adventure”

Did you know that the Texas Department of Public Safety does not inform all residents when their licenses need renewed? I didn’t know that till Kay told me a couple of weeks before my birthday.

The DPS apparently doesn’t have a budget large enough to send out mailers to everyone. Nor does it have enough money to maintain all its offices. They’ve been closing ‘em right and left. That’s what’s been making the experience at the Montgomery County DPS office purgatorial.

Unless you’re incarcerated or deemed a road hazard, you will eventually need to make that trip. All roads lead to the DPS. Add just a tad of heat, and you’ll think you died and went to the bad place.

    I made it to the DPS in Conroe at about 2:00 in the p,m. I read somewhere that it didn’t matter how early you got there, you would still have to wait till your nose bled. I don’t know if that’s true or not, ‘cause I left when I saw the crowd. I couldn’t find a place to park. There were cars circling the parking lot and lined along the railroad track.

    A conundrum is what I had. Had it by the knees. I needed to do one of two things. I could go home, and come back in a better mood. Or, I could go to Huntsville. After 20 minutes of pondering, I headed to Huntsville. That’s what the Plilers had done a couple of weeks before. Said it was faster in Walker County.

    In Huntsville I didn’t have to wait outside. I made it just inside the door, and stood with about 20 other poor saps that were waiting for a chance to make it inside the room with the chairs.

“Hey, what are you here for?” the loud talker said. Every line has one. “Uh, renewal.” I said. – “Don’t you know you can do that on-line?” the know-it-all lady said. Exhibited one of those superior airs.

“I’m gonna bust you up, lady.” That’s the first thing that came to mind. The fourth thing was what actually came out of my mouth. “If your driver license photo was taken back when Nixon was President they want you to show up for a new one. That’s what I found out ON-LINE.”

It was the loud talker’s turn. “Hey, where you from? You know we’re gonna be here five hours don’t you?” -- “Uh, Conroe.” – “Oh, man, that’s the worst. My nephew tried to—“ That went on for about 30 minutes. During the harangue I found out I was standing in line with people from Magnolia, Spring, Montgomery, Hempstead, Willis and Iowa.

The Corn State (sometimes called “Hawkeye State”) couple were newly weds who just moved down. They had no idea what they’d stepped in. “In my hometown we just go to the Courthouse walk up to a window and they take care of us in a matter of minutes.”

“Well, you’re in Texas now. Don’t mess with us, Little Missy.” I was waiting for the know-it-all lady to say that, but she didn’t. I guess even she had her limits.

When I finally got inside the big room I noticed that there were only two clerks. One nice and one not so. Isn’t that the way it is? I wonder if there’s a place in the world where both clerks are nice. 

I was so pleased when the nice lady called me over. She didn’t make me fill out another form or anything. Did some computer stuff and then told me to stand in the square so she could take my picture.

I stood for, oh, 30 seconds. Nothing. Then I looked up for a second, closed my eyes and flinched. Snap! – The nice lady was a ringer. They coax you in with politeness and then catch you off guard with the camera. Oh, they’re good. -- By the way I was in and out in two hours.


Matters not anymore. I’ve got my temporary license, The new one is in the mail. Next time I have to do this again, I’ll be a road hazard. Or, incarcerated. Always a chance of that.

END

You can find Brad and Mark’s review of Hyden’s Sport’s Pub by clicking below.

I did my duty

“The voir dire experience”

    Did you know that something is more certain if you believe it “beyond a reasonable doubt” than if you are “clear and confident of it?” Hey, I was shocked, too.

    That’s what I learned on jury duty last week. The prosecutor explained stuff like that to me and the other 32 prospective jurors. I was number 29. It was a misdemeanor case and they were only looking for six jurors. Being 29 when they’re looking for six is good. (You just read a sentence that has never been written before. I’m clear and confident of that.)

    Anyone selected for the jury would have to serve for about two days. That’s what the judge said, and he’d been around long enough to know. I’m patriotic as all get out, but I really didn’t wanna show back up on Tuesday.

    Did you know that some people make weird comments during the voir dire phase of a trial? “Voir dire?”That’s the technical term for the process of selecting a jury. The judge mentioned that, but I already knew.

     I wanted to raise my hand and tell him I knew, but one of the clerks already gave me a questioning look when I stood up to see if I could steal a better pen. I don’t think you’re supposed to stand without permission.

    Where was I? Oh, weird comments. The prosecutor asked if anyone would have to be 100 percent certain before finding a person guilty. In other words, did we all agree to the “beyond a reasonable doubt” criterion?  

    A few raised their hands and said they’d have to be 100 percent sure. Good grief! Witnesses can’t even be 100 percent sure. Witnesses are lousy witnesses. (Another invented sentence.) If I had to draw a composite picture of Brad Meyer, the restaurant critic goober I eat with, I couldn’t tell you if he had hair or not. I’m around him at least two times a week. Does he have a beard? Not sure. Do you know? Well, see there? We’d both be lousy witnesses. 

    The only person who can be 100 percent sure of who did what is the person charged with doing it. He knows if he did it or not. Anyone who might’ve seen him can only know “beyond a reasonable doubt.” An extraterrestrial could’ve taken the guy’s place and committed the crime. That’s possible, but not reasonable.

    I wanted to raise my hand and explain all of that to the prosecutor, because I didn’t think he was explaining as well as I could. But, I didn’t.  Low profile. That’s the course of action I chose. I was number 29. Didn’t wanna stand out. If it were a big highfalutin famous person trial, I might’ve said stuff to get on the news.

But, I was keeping it low-key... which was a popular name for boys born in 2008.  I didn’t even want to stand out in the lobby when we were waiting to be called in. Get there at 9:00 the jury summons said. I came 15 minutes early and couldn’t find a place to park. Impossible to park where the summons instructed. Billions of cars. I ended up parking in the Baptist Church parking lot. Been my experience Baptists seldom tow your car.

    I did get there just in time to wait 40 minutes to be called into the courtroom. I imagine the lawyers were trying to strike a deal and avert a trial. They do that a lot. Bring things right down to the wire to see if one side caves. No caving.

    The trial is over by now. I didn’t serve, but I did my duty. I showed up, I spoke when directly spoken to (which was not at all) and I returned the pen I stole. I participated in the process called voir dire, and was judged to be unwanted, unneeded, and marginally well behaved. It was a rather successful Monday for me.

END

 To view Brad and Mark’s latest restaurant click on photo.

I feel a sick coming on

“D.O.A.”

    I’m going to have to make this quick. I don’t have much time before I’ll be unreadable. Several of you have accused me of that in the past, but this time I have an excuse.

It started with Kay. She was up most of the night with nausea. That means I was up most of the night switching out garbage cans. Kay had the worst of it; I realize that. But, boy, did I not have fun.

Right now I’ve got one of those headaches that lets you know you’re getting ready to be sick. You know the one. I could take something for it, but it’s not going to work. I’ve got what Kay’s got. Close to it anyway.

The headache is associated with the ol’ the rumbly in my tumbly sensation. It’s coming, and it’s gonna be a bear. (By the way, the new Winnie the Pooh movie got great reviews. I’m planning to rent it, ‘cause I don’t wanna pay big bucks to watch a movie that’s just a little over an hour long. You wanna know the real reason, it’s ‘cause I’m afraid I will embarrass myself during the movie by trying to give that stupid Pooh Bear advice. “No, Pooh! Don’t listen to Tigger. The guy’s redick-orous!” I can do that at home, and it’s not big deal. In the theatre?

Where was—Oh, yeah. A few hours ago I went to Sonic to get Kay a large limeade. Kay likes Sonic limeades over Sonic ice. Try to get ‘em to put their limeade over Whataburger ice and they won’t do it. They just draw the line on that.

I was so proud of myself for getting Kay something she didn’t ask for. I just looked at her lying there all sad-faced, and I said, “Hey, I’m goin’ to Sonic to get you a limeade. What else you want? She said she wouldn’t mind a strawberry sundae for later when she might could keep it down.

So, I pulled into Sonic, pushed the button and told the girl, “I would like a large limeade, a strawberry sundae and a-- And, a— And, that’s all.” I was trying to say “and a coffee flavored Java Chiller.” I love just plain Java Chillers. But I couldn’t get the words out without heaving. The only way I can now write the words is by thinking of a blue Magic Marker. I’m writing “Java Chiller” but I’ve got Magic Marker on my brain. You try to do that. It’s not easy.

It was there at the Sonic speaker I first realized I was soon to be sick. I didn’t tell the Sonic girl, ‘cause she didn’t care. The girl who brought my stuff acted like she cared, but I think she just wanted a tip. That’s the only reason I’d walk to somebody’s car in 102 degree heat.

So, I came home, put the sundae in the freezer, the limeade on the end table by the couch, and then escorted Kay down the stairs. She’s now sitting there with her eyes shut but not asleep. I know that, ‘cause anytime I walk by she mumbles something to me. I can’t understand her. I just say, “I know, Sweetie.” Seems to placate her.

Before meeting you here I, uh, took/applied one of those phenergan anti-nauseating things. I don’t care to say much more about application, but I will tell you that along with eliminating the nausea, that thing will knock me out for, oh, an entire day. Maybe two. I’ll end up looking and acting like Kay.

Did any of you ever see the movie “D.O.A.” where the guy is poisoned and knows he’s going to die, so he spends his last moments trying to figure out who poisoned him? That doesn’t have anything to do with my situation, but the thought just came to me.

I think that’s one of the symptoms of whatever I’m getting. During one of Kay’s mumblings she said “I guess it’s not West Nile because…” Her comment just trailed off. Happens a lot.

I never thought of West Nile. Kay’s pretty smart even when she’s out of her mind. Not me. I make little sense when I’m sick. Become unreadable. Fortunately, I was able to spend this time with you before my mind shutdown. It got close there a time or two, but I made it. – What?

END

To see Brad and Mark’s latest restaurant review CLICK ON PIC:

Didn't know what hit 'em.

“Incredible Pizza”

    Until things cool down, our family get-togethers will be held at eating establishments somewhere in neutral territory. We’ve got family in Pasadena, La Porte, The Woodlands, Willis and Conroe.

Of course, our sister Sue lives in Washington State, so we’ve been excluding her from our gatherings. I’m not apologizing for that, either. If you choose to move a couple thousand miles away from family, you’re gonna get left out.

Last month’s gathering was held at Incredible Pizza in Conroe. Jill picked the place. She lives in a La Porte, and apparently likes to be on the road. I was good with the idea, ‘cause it’s only a 15 minute drive for me, and ‘cause it’s buffet. I don’t understand buffet. Do they realize you can eat all you want? Just makes no sense to me.

The only drawback to the Incredible Pizza had to do with the timing. Timing is so important in life. Whether you’re telling a joke, cooking a roast or approaching an amber light, timing is crucial.

Unfortunately, Jill timed our confab for Saturday evening. I don’t care if it’s Incredible Pizza, Chuck E Cheese or a trip to Wal-Mart, Saturday evening is not a good time for grownups… unless you want to rumble.

Though Kay and I were not the first to arrive at I P, it was obvious that I was going to have to be the one to take charge. You have no idea the hurt that comes from being the one to take charge. But, who’s gonna do it? “You, Kaffee? The truth is, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall!” – Whoa. What was that?

Anyway, Hayters were filling plates and then wandering all over the place. -- Where do we sit? Where are the bigger plates? Why would I want a salad? – People were getting testy. Dennis got into a fight with two nine-year-olds. He could’ve probably handled one. I kept telling him they’d bring more pizza.

I finally told Kay to gather up the mavericks, while I found a place for us to camp.
I went to a boss-looking person and asked if we could take over one of the special birthday rooms. “No, they’re all taken,” she lied. Hey, I don’t blame her. I’m pretty sure the manager at the Chinese buffet in Deer Park called her. She acted like she had heard of the Hayters.

I ended up leading everyone to the giant theatre room. They were airing a weird Japanese animated feature. Wait a minute. That’s redundant. We decided against watching the feature. None of the other losers in the room cared to watch, either. We just ate. It was way dark in that theatre, which made it so easy to steal off one another’s plates.

The biggest thief was Levi. That’s my nephew Clint’s youngest. From his high chair he had a grab range radius of 4 feet. By the way, Clint and Joanna named their kids Jasmine, Cash, Violet and Levi. I think Clint was looking to make a TV series called “Bonanza: The Next Generation”

After realizing the food would never run out, most of us slowed our eating pace. Once finished, we ran to the game area, a massive place with bumper cars, an iceless iceskating rink, putt putt golf and 179 other games. The brothers and Clint played Putt Putt. I lost bad. The game looks so much easier than it is.

The kids played with… well, everything. It didn’t cost all that much for the youngest to play. Seems the boat, car, spaceship games show the vehicles racing on the screens even when you don’t put tokens in. The kids would sit there and turn the steering wheel back and forth thinking they were actually directing the thing. I even caught myself doing it. Kids are dopes.

Probably won’t surprise you to know that we were among the last to leave. Yeah, we pretty well closed down Incredible Pizza. We even got cheers from the staff as we left. Some of those people are good actors.

I have no idea where we’re meeting this month. If I get to pick, it’ll be 10:45 at Luby’s. Those people won’t know what hit ‘em. 

END

   
For the latest Whine and Dine review click on pic.

Made a pancake lover outta me.

“They're the best, Jerry”

     I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m half of the restaurant review team of Brad and Mark. Professional critique Brad Meyer is the brains and I… well, I just go along for the free food. Our video segment is called “Whine and Dine.” One of us thought that cute.

    From some of the comments received about our segments, it’s apparent that at least one county resident considers me somewhat of a doofus. Brad can be so mean.

    Well, this “doofus” is getting ready to do something that’s only been done once in the history of mankind. I believe it was in Wisconsin back in ’47. I’m going to review a pancake. So, grab a cup of joe and listen up. Read up.

Last Tuesday, I wanted breakfast for supper, so I gathered Kay up and we went to IHOP. I think I missed her left shoe.

IHOP is big on pancakes. Why else would they put ‘em in their name. Take the pancakes out of IHOP and they’re IHO. Say that twice and you’ve got the first two words in a song by seven little people. Work with me here, would ya?

    Truth is I didn’t want pancakes ‘cause they weigh on me. “Sluggish” thy name is Tall Stack. That’s in the Old Testament somewhere. Fairly sure.

However, after the waitress went to get my coffee (a whole pot) I noticed a picture in the menu insert. The mini-men’. The picture was that of a plate of pancakes covered with a thick cinnamon goo. Atop this layer of brown ambrosia was a squiggly pattern of thin white icing. And on top of that was a splot of whipped cream. Splot? Somebody look that up.

I was about to jump up and run for the waitress, but Kay gave me her don’t-embarrass-me look. It’ll paralyze. I think she was still mad about her shoe. She told me to wait for the waitress. After all, that’s how they got their name.

The waitress promptly returned with my coffee and poured the first cup. After that you get to pour your own. And, get this, if you empty the carafe, they bring you another. I’m not making this stuff up.

But, forget the coffee. I told the waitress I wanted the breakfast with the cinnamon pancakes. She seemed pleased with my selection. I like it when the waitress commends me for my order. So, I ended up with two eggs (over medium), two sausages, hashbrowns and two pancakes. I had to place a separate order for toast, ‘cause I wasn’t about to trade my pancakes for toast. They shouldn’t even make it an option.

Kay ordered… something else. Who remembers? I wolfed down most of my eggs and stuff, and then sank my fork into the pancake concoction. I instantly noticed that a glob of cinnamon also covered the bottom pancake. It was genius! And, it was one of the few times where the picture of the food looked just like the actual food. Nobody has figured out how to do that with hamburgers, but IHOP managed it with their cinnamon pancakes.

Unfortunately, I got too full too fast. I decided it a good time to let Kay have a taste. She took a bite… then another. She thought for a second and said, “You know, this tastes like the best part of a real gooey cinnamon roll, the middle. Only with a cakey texture.” Kay makes up words sometimes.

But she was right. The waitress even gave us the senior discount, and we didn’t even ask. She might’ve just felt sorry for Kay. Anyway, we got one meal for free.

What a great eating experience. Some days you just step into something good. Had Brad been with me instead of Kay I would’ve stepped into something less good. Brad is so mean. I suggested we call our program “Mark and Big Stinker.” One of us thought that cute.  

END

You can view Mark and B Stinker’s latest review on YouTube click on picture.