Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: McHuston (Page 108 of 111)

Oh, say… Can you see?

Of course, with the year ending in the number twelve, we all should have realized it was the anniversary of the War of 1812, fought against Great Britain 200 years ago. It didn’t occur to me until I heard it mentioned on the radio. It’s also the Bicentennial of the Kentucky Militia Pig, one of the less famous stories from the 1812 war with England.

In fact, it was 200 years ago this month that all the frustrations, outrages, and humiliations put upon the citizens of our newly established country by the British finally boiled over. President James Madison signed the country’s first declaration of war on June 18, 1812 – not realizing completely what he was putting at risk.

It was just two years later that the White House and US Capitol were in flames, set ablaze during the occupation of Washington DC by British forces. It was during the Battle of Baltimore that Francis Scott Key wrote the lyrics that became our national anthem, the Star Spangled Banner.

Like all armed conflicts, all manner of stories have been handed down. The McHuston ancestry participated through the volunteered service of young Thales Huston, the son of Stevenson Huston, for whom the town of Hustonville, Kentucky was named. Thales and the militia from Lincoln County, Kentucky – walked from their farms to Ontario, Canada to take on the British Regulars under General Henry Proctor.

Kentucky Governor Isaac Shelby led the march, which is the beginning of the Kentucky Militia Pig Story.

After gathering at Harrodsburg, the Kentucky volunteers were just beginning their northward hike when they came upon two pigs engaged in a battle of their own. As men will do, the troops stopped their march in order to watch the pig-fight to its conclusion.

When the men resumed walking and were a couple of miles down the road, someone spotted the victorious animal following the troops at a short distance. When the men made camp for the night, they noted the pig also bedded himself down and arose with the new day to continue the journey.

According to Lewis Collins, in his 1877 book “History of Kentucky,” the volunteer force boarded a ferry to cross the river at Cincinnati, and “the pig, on getting to the water’s edge, promptly plunged in, waiting on the other side until the whole cortege crossed over, and resumed its post as customary at the flank of the moving column.”

In fact, the pig survived the battle and the return march to Kentucky; as a reward for his endurance of the hardships of military life, he was placed in the care of Governor Shelby, who cared for the patriotic porker for the rest of his years.

Thales Huston returned to the farm and his scallywagging ways, the sort of which prompted an elaborate legal document to keep his wife’s inheritance largely out of his hands.

The pig most likely enjoyed a better retirement, regaling his offspring with stories of the old war days, sleeping under the stars – pigs in a blanket, as it were.

Cases, Showcases, Platters, and Plates.

I accepted the first delivery of restaurant-related items this morning, boxes of to-go cups, straws, plastic-ware, paper napkins, and such. I was also the deliveryman, given that I’m still what some call the “owner-operator.” All that means is that if something requires attention, it has to come to my attention and then find its natural spot in the order of priorities.

Of continuing importance in the daily agenda is getting the food service established. Having achieving lift-off in the form of Health Department approval, I can now make those purchases that I was holding off on – those boxes that came in through the back door this morning, for example.

There were great intentions for Monday.

Those intentions were laid out before Sunday, when I had to finish emptying the storage units of the final holdings, to avoid paying another month’s rent. Among the last of the moving day castaways was a four-foot glass display showcase, firmly mounted on a wooden base – no casters.

Some serious thought went into the planning to get that beast into the old van, single-handedly.

Needless to say, I wrestled with it long enough and slammed the doors in triumph, only to watch a fellow park in the last space in front of the store as I approached. I imagine I was a sight to behold, hunched over a two-wheeled hand-truck, trying to balance a glass beast at an angle that would allow me to move it while keeping it from crashing to the sidewalk.

Glass showcases are best moved on a furniture dolly. Didn’t have one.

It is sitting in the office now, as was I for some time, trying to recover.

One of the fun things about moving most of your possessions from one place to another is coming across mementoes that had been forgotten. There was a bookmark in a Tulsa People magazine from the year 2000, and when I opened it up, there was an article about Paddy’s restaurant – which many of you recall as an earlier chapter of mine.

I remembered the flattering story, written by a former radio co-worker of mine, Pat Kroblin. I enjoyed re-reading her kind review. I had forgotten the photograph that accompanied the story, which I’ve scanned into this post. More than a dozen years later, it isn’t as clear as it once was, but it is nice to see the presentation of the different menu items. Of course, there was extra care given for the photographer, but I was always proud of the plates that came out of our kitchen.

One of my axioms has always been, “People eat with their eyes first,” and if it doesn’t look attractive, the taste has a strike against it from the start. We had some tasty items at Paddy’s and this archival photo reminds me that it almost always tastes better when it is pretty on the plate.

I’m working on getting those plates, even now.

Behind Door #1

No more wondering what’s behind that tinted storefront glass – the name is finally up on the door!

Part of the delay was computer-related. First I had to reassemble my little computer network in the new location. (Network = two old desktops with data that I can’t seem to transfer and don’t want to lose, connected by router to my laptop.) Then, the original design that was scraped off the old front door had to be updated to reflect the bistro’s coming addition.

Finally, I had to find a company to produce the design in vinyl letters.

An agent from a Tulsa company happened to be working on a neighbor’s window and made a proposal before I was ready. I wanted to use the old-time-y style letters that are on the business cards but couldn’t provide them until I had the computers hooked up. She provided a near-match in a huge graphic that would have spanned several panes of the front glass. It might have been a real eye-grabber, but I wasn’t sure about the idea of having the letters interrupted where the panes of glass were joined. At any rate, she didn’t get to the price, which I’m sure was going to be another eye-grabber.

The company that had done the outdoor sign on the previous location told me by telephone they’d be happy to look over my newly-designed graphic if I’d send it over. They never replied to my email with attached graphic file.

Finally, Tulsa Signs (actually in Broken Arrow at 61st and Aspen, next to the McDonald’s at the BA Expressway) provided a price quote that was cheaper than an internet graphics firm that was going to tack on an additional ten dollars to ship the lettering by UPS. I was happy to do business locally.

They did a one-day turnaround and even gave me a quick installation demonstration and application squeegee to get me up to speed.

Naturally, I was outside taping the thing to the front door in the midst of near gale-force winds this afternoon. Since I don’t have a third arm, I had to hold the edge of the backing in my teeth as I slowly worked the other edge loose. It’s a little nerve-racking, realizing there is just one shot, and if it goes bad the letters have to be scraped off and re-ordered.

In the midst of that tension, I apparently bit off the corner of the backing and the adhesive sheet stuck to my lower lip – unbeknownst to me. When it got a little more manageable and I reached up to take the corner from my mouth, I ripped off skin.

Yikes!

The fellow at Tulsa Signs forgot to mention that little installer’s cautionary tip.

At any rate, the letters are on the door and I believe it will help those people who have been pressing their hands and noses to the glass to peer through to know what’s inside.

Maybe I need one of those red “Come In!” signs for hesitant door-openers.

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