Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: paperback (Page 35 of 40)

Writers. A bunch written.

Today’s entry is literary. That is to say, it has to do with writing. Not literary writers, necessarily. Not authors.

Writers.

There are plenty of them out there that have nothing to do with books or publishing or creating a leather-bound legacy that might one day become the Great American Novel.

I’m talking commercials, here.

As in: TV.

Unfortunately (for the writers) the general public is widely unaware of who is behind the good (and the bad). Right now, I’m thinking about the new spot for 7*Up Ten, a reduced calorie soft drink that is being sold despite the failure of the factory chemists to eliminate those last nine pesky calories. Okay. I can try it over my One-Calorie soft drink. I’ll burn those other nine calories off somewhere. Maybe I can do it while yawning.

The commercial has Mom and Dad fawning over their purchase of a box of 7*Up Ten, the Most-Amazing-Thing-They-Have-Ever-Seen. In the background, their little baby is moonwalking, doing hand-stands, and You-Think-You-Can-Dance-Level dancing.

I don’t laugh out loud, which is probably the result of my upbringing. When I saw this spot on TV, I almost did. To keep it in perspective, I almost laughed out loud at the chase scene in the action-adventure movie The Package, starring Jason Statham. He was chasing a car through an unfamiliar area while riding a little bicycle. He managed to smash it through a glass door and time it perfectly to crash into the driver’s seat of his stolen car. Bravo. (Chuckle.)

There are others, like the Allstate ads. These aren’t knee-slappers, exactly. No slapstick humor here. Strictly situational. Maybe you’ve seen the one with the Allstate Mayhem Man appearing as a rambunctious toddler in the back seat, yelling – mommy.

“Mommy!” he shouts. “MommyMommyMommy!”

He pulls a drink from his sippy-cup and yells again.

Mommmmmyeeeee!

There are things thrown – maybe Cheerios. All accompanied by the continued shouts:

Mommmmyeeee!

No doubt, it’s just me. But I can easily envision the energetic child behind that Allstate Mayhem Man. In another ad, he disguises himself as a college flag, and as a poorly-installed TV satellite dish in another. Still, he’s the Mayhem Man. Those writers are hitting more than they are missing. The kid-in-the-backseat-of-the-minivan commercial works for me everytime.

Some are the result of writing-teams. Others are solo-shots. Unfortunately, there isn’t really a front-and-center Award Show Recognition like the Emmys or the Grammys or the Oscars that gives credit to these writers. I’m not sure about the category specifics, but there ought to be some publicity for those behind Seven*Up Ten, the Allstate ads, and the like. Some local groups give out “Addys” to winning commercials, but there is no Oscar-scale presentation.

As many commercials as we are exposed to, you’d think someone would sponsor a show.

And run commercials throughout.

Second helpings of a good thing…

Better the second day? That’s what several guests have told me about their home-cooked stews. What about stew-reviews?

Maybe not better, but getting a second helping of Mr Cherry’s restaurant review tastes pretty good this morning. Since I usually miss the paper on Sunday, I didn’t realize that he has a regular “Second Helpings” column that recaps the columns in the Weekend section of Thursday’s paper.

It was equally fitting that the Irish Stew headline appears in the St. Paddy’s Day edition of the Tulsa World. If you missed the review, you can click on the image to read the recap.

I have mixed feelings about this year’s celebration. In the past, when St. Patrick’s falls on a Sunday, it became a weekend event that kicked off Friday evening and ran through Sunday afternoon.

On the one hand, I love the St. Paddy’s party, the wearing o’ the kilt, the Irish music, parading bagpipers, and – of course – the green beer. On the other hand, running the shop as a one-man-band makes those sorts of things a little tough. The telephone rang just now. Another caller wondering if I’m open and selling corned beef and cabbage.

Nope, sorry. Closed on Sunday, trying to get restocked for next week.

My plan at this point, is to plan for next year.

When I was younger, I often jumped into the middle of things, figuring I could talk or work my way out of whatever outcome resulted. There is some fearlessness in an attitude like that. I’m old enough now to realize that fearlessness isn’t always a virtue. I’m not encouraging caution, just recommending solid planning.

Wouldn’t want to throw a haphazard party and have it go off badly.

The shop is still on track, with long-term plans in mind and a definitive picture of the end result. It’s a step by step project. I don’t have a committee to consult or a project team to assign tasks for carrying out. It’s more a matter of trudging my way along the business roadmap, marking off the miles, and stopping at scenic turnouts when necessary.

There will be some corned beef orders tomorrow, I know. Some guests are more interested in the spirit (and the flavor) than green beer on the actual day. I’m okay with that.

But it won’t be leftovers or second-day Irish stew. After the hectic schedule last week, the pantry was nearly empty by the week’s end. The potatoes and onions are laid in now, though – and the Irish fare tomorrow will be freshly made, as always.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main, Broken Arrow OK
918-258-3301

Parties and the table.

There were three of us. We sat down at the only open table, the one with four chairs over in the corner. I’m sure we looked like tourists, because we were.

The talk was about the day’s itinerary and – of course – what we were going to order for lunch in the little café. It was a roadside place on the west coast of Ireland. Nothing fancy, but looking it over as we were, through visitor’s eyes, it seemed extra quaint and cozy.

A man sat down in the open chair at our table.

I have to admit, I was startled. Barging in on a group’s lunch is frowned upon, at least in my circle of dining-out acquaintances. If we’d invited him to sit down that would have been another thing. I hadn’t even noticed him until he joined us.

He was smiling, anyway. Kind of an infectious grin. Maybe that impression was also due to my tourist eyes. He didn’t look like a nut, particularly.

As it turned out, he was a sportswriter for one of the area’s newspapers just popping in for a bite to eat. He saw an open chair and sat in it. I later learned that’s the custom in Ireland and Europe.

In retrospect, I think I would have paid cash money for the experience. Bought a ticket for the dine-with-a-local excursion and looked forward to it, just like the medieval dining night in a local castle. I realized then that it was a shame that Americans are so set apart by our zones of privacy and comfort.

Today is catch-up with bookstacks, but yesterday was another busy day at lunchtime. At one point, three separate parties were looking for a place to sit. There were two ladies who came in independently, and a woman with her husband, who were out to celebrate his birthday.

“We were just looking for a little adventure,” she said.

“I’ll bring out the rhinos,” I answered. (Just kidding about that part.)

One table was open, the four-top (that’s our secret restaurant code for a table that will accommodate four chairs). By the time I arrived to welcome them, they were all settled in and smiling, and I assumed they were all together.

It was well into the experience before I realized three groups had seated themselves together, European-style. Ironically, another guest and I had talked about that very thing earlier in the week, how Americans would turn away rather than share a table with strangers. And here it was, happening.

When one of the ladies excused herself to return to work, I overheard the group saying their goodbyes, using first names, with promises to “call you soon.” Maybe astonished is a little strong, but I was certainly amazed.

There is a bit of coziness amongst the tables here. I have noticed guests speaking to each other from table to table, which I rarely see when I dine out. Of course, there aren’t any booths or wall dividers here. One table is slightly set apart from the others. Perhaps that can be the designated privacy section. Or not.

After getting over the surprise at having the Irish gentleman sit down at our table, I truly enjoyed the chance to learn something about his world and his experiences. It was an opportunity to have a conversation with someone with a different perspective on life, a person I would never, ever, speak to again. A chance encounter.

Here in Broken Arrow, I suppose the odds are better that you might later run into someone you’d spoken to in the little bistro area of McHuston Booksellers. But that’s not a bad thing, is it?

We can all use another friendly acquaintance or two, in my book. And books are what I do.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers and Irish Bistro
Rose District, Broken Arrow OK
122 South Main Street
918-258-3301

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