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Tag: books (Page 8 of 128)

Hold Your Burger Up.

October 21, 2016 /

The Internet. Where one thing always leads to another, and I found myself listening to Hold Your Head Up (Argent, 1972). Somebody had made a video to go with the song.

There weren’t official music videos back then, so whoever uploaded the music added pictures of people in bell-bottom jeans, peace symbols, and assorted old-timey stuff. A hamburger stand image popped up, and I thought – Hey!

It was one of the long-time ago memories, and I wasn’t even sure I was remembering correctly – but when I saw the name Sandy’s I immediately thought of Scottish plaid and a young woman in a kilt. Couldn’t figure out why those things would come to mind, so I had to look it up.

As I said, the Internet, where one thing always leads to another.

sandysburger

Even after the research, I can’t recall where it was. Maybe Stillwater. It was back in the early days of hamburger franchising, and I guess the Sandy’s folks were doing a McDonald’s (Scottish) knock-off. 15¢ hamburgers. Milkshakes. Speedy (and mostly counter-only) service.

And one thing leads to another.

I’m reading about Sandy’s and spot another burger joint picture. This one I know. The Burger Chef was in Tulsa, on 41st near the Skelly Drive on-ramp.

sandysburgerchef

That was during a time when I was impoverished bicycle mechanic (haven’t come too far since then, have I?) working at the Bike Mart on South Sheridan. We got paid weekly and the paycheck was an amount that didn’t make it past Friday. Since the checks were handed out after lunch, I could never afford to eat on Saturday.

Most of my money was already spent on car and rent payments, so there wasn’t much left for food. When I discovered that Burger Chef offered a build-your-own-burger bar, I realized it was cheaper than buying bread and bologna. They had the cheapo Puny-Burger that – after visiting the condiments station – became a Whopper filled with as much lettuce and pickles as I could balance between the buns.

My visits were so regular that when I stopped in on a flat-broke Saturday lunchtime with enough change for a Coke, the young clerk asked me why I wasn’t getting my burger. After explaining my financial embarrassment, she reached back and grabbed a burger and put it on a tray for me.

I was a lot thinner in those days, and would have been more so if not for her kindness – which carried me through to my first job in radio. Not a lot more money, but enough to pay for my own lunch on Saturday.

Speaking of lunch – Chef Dustin prepares it every day but Sunday. Serving 11am to 2pm, so…

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow, OK!

Comedy. Civil War Era Yuk-Yuks.

October 3, 2016 /

Hard to imagine rowing a boat from Greece to Ireland, but a fellow named Pytheas captained a ship that made the journey.

Back in 325 BC.

pytheasship

He was obviously an adventurous sort. And he was traveling back in the time when there were not a lot of visitors to northwestern Europe, much less tourists from the Mediterranean.

Pytheas and his men would have had to navigate that sea, sailing south around the boot of Italy after leaving the Sea of Crete. He’d edge past Spain and Portugal while passing through the Strait of Gibraltar to the Atlantic. Once they cleared Portugal, it would have been a fairly straight shot north to Ireland. About three-thousand miles.

If they could row at 10 knots (slightly more than 11 mph) the Greek sailors would have been at sea for nearly 12 days – if they knew exactly where they were going and never were drawn off course. That’s the whole exploring thing. They DIDN’T know where they were, or where they were going.

About a thousand years later, the Vikings paddled around the same area, but they managed about 2 mph – and the Norse ships were built for speed.

That’s why it’s hard for me to imagine Pytheas out at sea, an early tourist without a camera, a McDonald’s, or a roadside turnout. According to that bastion of facts, Wikipedia, Pytheas is the first known scientific visitor and reporter of the Arctic, polar ice, and the Germanic tribes.

And he called Ireland – Hibernia. It is thought to be a doubly-translated version of a Celtic word that meant “abundant land.”

The point of this whole history lesson?

Well, the caption on the Harper’s Weekly cartoon from 1867 uses the names Hibernians to describe the typical Irish drinking joke. (It was always so, apparently.)

hibernianpic

Since it may be difficult to read the nearly 150 year old printing, here is the transcription to accompany the image:

Young Hibernian. “Jolly day we had last week at O’Donohue’s Wedding. Capital Champagne he gave us, and faith it was justice we did it, I tell you.”

Ancient Hibernian (who prefers a drop of Whisky). “Widdings is well enough at yer time o’ life, but give me a good Ould Wake.”

And that’s how the knee-slappers went back in the Civil War era. Still, a lot of interesting items in a stack of 150 year old Harper’s Weekly pages that popped in the front door today.

Never know what you’ll find in your friendly neighborhood bookstore – except from eleven to two, when you know you’ll find some delicious lunches. Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

Wired memories and music.

September 17, 2016 /

Six-and-a-half minutes. Give or take, given the long fade ending. Still, a long time to be in heaven.

I haven’t heard the song Hey Jude in – forever – and maybe that’s the reason the memories it stirred were among the originals. Ninth grade recollections, as a matter of fact. My high school introductory year: McAuley Regional in Joplin.

The first dance I ever attended. (I suppose my sisters and I danced enough around the house to know that I probably oughtn’t try it in public…)

slowdance

It took the greater part of the evening to work up my courage, and when I dared myself at last, I jumped up just as the first notes of the song rang out. She nodded a yes, then looked over at Joyce. (Wondered, but never figured out if she had lost a bet or was looking for sympathy…) We were both wearing those freshman-year shy grins when I recognized the song was that new one from the Beatles.

Hey Jude.

Immediately realized it was a slow song. As in Slow Dance. There may be mixed opinions about slow dancing versus leap-around-with-reckless-abandon dancing – but as a practiced non-dancer the relief washed over me in waves.

Relief and anxiety, as it was Becky who had agreed to the dance. The most beautiful girl in all of ninth grade, and one who might have taken pity on a shy kid asking for a dance. Perhaps not realizing she had committed to a slow dance to one of the longest popular songs ever.

Funny how the brain is wired. All these years later, the song rolls out of the speakers and I am taken back to that evening, even to the point of recalling the lighting in the room, my nervousness offset by a giddiness brought on by her close proximity.

Heaven, it was. Six-and-a-half minutes, give or take.

My hand on the small of her back, which must have been by instinct or observation because it was certainly not from experience. Mostly swaying, occasionally turning. An awkward song to dance to, with a tempo not really slow, but not fast enough.

The song ended at last, as did my freshman year at McAuley. Our family moved away from Joplin that summer and I completed my high school years at another McA-school, McAlester High.

But I don’t remember dancing there.

At least, not like the night in the ninth, The Beatles, Hey Jude…

And beautiful Miss Becky.

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