Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: used books (Page 120 of 128)

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.

Getting closer…

All in all, it was quick and painless. A lot of the things we worry about tend to turn out that way, with the anticipation being the worst of it. I was expecting the health department inspector this afternoon, with her visit intended to give the kitchen a final once-over to determine readiness to serve up some lunch.

Truthfully, I didn’t think there would be any problems with the equipment or the kitchen. The freezer is up on casters as required, and the brand new refrigerator is chilling away at a steady 35-degrees. I’m proud enough of it all to snap a picture and upload it. As someone who truly enjoys cooking, it’s a pleasure to have a nice shiny place to do a little work. Today was the test of whether it could get off the starting line, and knowing I’ve got time and money invested in the outcome of the visit, I’ll admit to having been a little antsy.

It’s that lead-up time that allows the twinges of anxiety.

Makes me recall those radio days, when I’d have to introduce an act on stage, sometimes bound up in a tuxedo. I’d never eat beforehand, and if anyone asked I’d always blame the tux and my propensity for spilling food down my shirt. Actually, it had more to do with nervous tension – even after having done such introductions over the course of years and years.

But once I eventually stepped out onto the stage, everything was calm inside. Years ago, I was to introduce jazz pianist Ramsey Lewis at the Greenwood Jazz Festival and – unbelievably – he appeared to be visibly nervous. I would have figured a seasoned pro like Mr. Lewis would consider the Tulsa appearance almost small potatoes.

It was just a few minutes before the scheduled start of his set and he kept glancing at his watch. He was clearly discomfited.

I mentioned to him what a great-looking watch he was wearing, and he spent a good minute or so pointing out the features. He’d barely pulled his cuff down over it again when they signaled me to head to the microphone. Inspecting that watch worked wonders for the both of us. Once I called his name and the applause began, I turned and watched as he stepped onto the stage. There was nothing of nervousness in his look. He was in his element and ready to go.

The health department visit lasted less than ten minutes.

A quick inspection of the equipment, a couple of questions about how things would be done – typical food safety related questions. They were basic things about the practical operation rather than quizzing my knowledge of food safety.

I won’t name her here, but the inspector is strictly business, but exceedingly professional and courteous enough to take the edge off. The Tulsa City-County Health Department could do well with a full complement of sanitarians just like her.

Final verdict?

Passed the test.

Now, the final planning for lunch service can get underway. Watch for something delicious, coming soon to a McHuston’s book store near you (that is to say, on Main Street in Broken Arrow!).

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