Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: McHuston (Page 107 of 111)

Something new under the sun.

It is certainly hard to miss now, at least if you are driving down Main Street in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. Them’s some big letters.

The first bit of official advertising for the new location is courtesy of an alteration to the storefront awning.

I’ve been asked why I didn’t put the name up there instead of Books & Bistro. There’s a pretty simple answer: When someone says “I’m going to McDonald’s,” there is no question about what they’re after. I don’t anticipate ever getting to that degree of notoriety, so I figured it would make more sense to describe what is inside the store rather than who owns it.

Besides – when paying by the letter, “McHuston Booksellers & Irish Bistro” adds up to a pretty penny.

As for the looks, I could not be happier. The letters are larger than I had imagined they would be, a pleasing surprise, and already someone has come in after parking to check out the inside of the place.

Sometimes I ask how a customer found the store and sometimes I don’t, but I know from visitors at the old location that the sign out front was my best advertising expenditure. Compare to the sign expense, I paid a lot more for newspaper ads over the five years at Oak Crest shopping center, but it might have been a better idea to just put that money toward a newer, bigger sign.

Did you ever spot one of the newspaper ads?

Goes to show ya.

I am in hopes that the awning will do the same thing toward drawing in customers as the vinyl lettered plywood sign did. (That’s now parked at the back door, slightly faded, but doing what it can from that vantage point.)

Maybe I’ll take down the HP printer paper sign that I taped up to the inside of the glass, the one that inspired a woman to tell me, “It looks like it was made on a computer.”

The lettering on the awning, on the other hand, looks pretty official.

Is that for here or to go?

In a way, it was for the best. The lady at the counter had no idea she was to be the first customer for the Bistro. I didn’t tell her, either. I had no firm idea how the first transaction was going to go.

I had set the sign out on the sidewalk earlier with some trepidation, flying solo, wanting to serve some lunches but – obviously – not wanting to be overwhelmed. It was for that reason I decided to limit the lunch hour to just about that long: 11:30am to 1pm. I figured that would let me get an idea of how the system should work out.

Right off the bat, she had a question about ingredients: did the tortilla wrapper have sesame flour? Food allergies. I checked the package: no sesame flour. The Ham and Cheese Culchie was on (it’s my Irish-style wrap with sautéed bell peppers and onions).

You have to understand, I haven’t had any dry runs on delivery time. I’ve prepped the menu items, of course, to insure the taste and appearance, but as far as putting it on a plate for a customer – had not done it. Not even for family or friends.

She wanted it to go.

Fortunately, I had anticipated that possibility and had set out a couple of to-go boxes, just to be prepared. Had pre-portioned the ingredients. Opened the box of deli-wax paper to have it at the ready – in case it was needed.

I am guessing from opening the refrigerator to closing the snap-tabs on the foam box maybe three minutes passed. Maybe a lot less. It was in the bag complete with napkins, and rung up on the register inside four minutes. Again, maybe less. Granted, it was a straightforward order with no distractions – there weren’t any other customers in the store at the moment – but I’m happy with the way it came together. I’ve waited longer at a fast food counter.

It was smooth enough that I’m certain my first customer did not even realize she was the ice-breaker. That’s a good thing.

The only downside is, since it was ordered for carry out, I couldn’t ask her how she liked it. Not that it is some sort of fancy, delicate, rare culinary delight or anything: I just would have liked to have the feedback.

Tomorrow is another day. Part of the nervous anticipation should be gone by then.

Meanwhile, the lettering is scheduled to be added to the awning this week, another step in getting the store to that fully-realized and ready for anything stage!

Getting your money’s worth.

There are some who will take me to task about the Roger Clemens court case, and my contention that the government wasted millions of dollars (according to an article in the Seattle Times) trying to convict the former star pitcher of lying to them about alleged steroid use. A jury found him not guilty, which is not necessarily the same as innocent, but might as well be as far as prosecutors are concerned.

Where is the victim of the crime?

Originally, the inquiry was based on allegations against Clemons and other major league players who were said to have used performance-enhancing drugs. Some of those, like the supplement slugger Mark Maguire admitted to have taken, were readily available at health food stores. Not illegal.

Athletes do a lot of performance-enhancing activities, but the difference between ethical and otherwise appears to occur when the player obtains an advantage through ingesting some chemical or additive. Again – who is the victim? The sport of baseball? The fans? Other players?

Did steroid-using players really have an advantage when other athletes had the same access and may well have participated, but never fell under the spotlight?

Is it up to Congress to referee the nation’s sports activities? Why are our tax dollars being spent on hearings in the first place?

There is no question that Roger Clemens was a force to be reckoned with in the sport of baseball. Whether he finds a spot in the hall of fame depends on whether voters will weigh his player statistics against the drug doubts, which will linger despite the jury’s decision.

Much like the case that prosecutors brought against one-time presidential candidate John Edwards, the trial ended with a failed prosecution after years of investigating and enough money to fund teacher salaries across numerous school districts. Clemens angered members of Congress who believed he lied to them. Edwards lied about a mistress and was charged with diverting campaign money to cover up the affair.

In both cases, the victims of the purported offenses aren’t clearly defined. Society, maybe?

At some point, common sense should have come into play. Regardless of the verdict, there is a possibility that the cases against the two men simply weren’t proven to the satisfaction of the jury.

All that money spent to teach a lesson, one that didn’t even stick.

You can read more about the steroid-baseball connection in Kirk Radmonski’s book, Bases Loaded.

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