Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: used (Page 22 of 47)

A Cheesy Congratulations!

Congratulations! To Lovera’s Famous Italian Market in beautiful downtown Krebs, Oklahoma! Earlier this month, their handmade cheese won two awards at a national competition. In Wisconsin, of course – home of the self-proclaimed Green Bay Packers cheese-heads.

For those of you who haven’t sampled the Krebs cuisine, you’ve certainly missed some special dining. Pete’s Place is probably the best known of the Pittsburg County Italian restaurants located just east of McAlester. The Prichard family has been preparing Italian food and Choc beer since the early 1900s. The Lovera family has had a steady run with their Krebs food market as well, and their reputation seems to keep growing.

Ms Middleton of the Tulsa World featured the business in a Monday morning article.

Before reaching high school age, I was fortunate enough to attend a combined McAlester-Krebs school, where the middle-school-aged students were bused the three miles or so over to St. Josephs School. There, the cafeteria was staffed mainly by volunteer moms who whipped up lunches, Italian style. I’d had spaghetti before, of course – but it was courtesy of my dad and a can opener. This was something entirely different.

As is the case with a lot of things encountered in those early years, the special nature of those pans of fresh garlic bread and ravioli weren’t appreciated until years later. I guess I assumed every kid had the same sort of lunch program.

I suppose that’s where I got my kitchen start – as a tray-stacking, floor-sweeping, plate scraping volunteer. The way I figured it, it got me out of class a little early and I got to ease back into the post-lunch studies a little late. The kitchen activities didn’t strike me as work at all, and even provided a life changing event for me.

Part of my pre-serving duties was to get the little milk cartons organized to set them onto the trays as the kids passed down the serving line. One of the cooks (someone’s trickster Mom) said she thought one of the crates was full of cartons of spoiled milk. Maybe they were just beyond their “good until” date. Somehow it was suggested that someone needed to sample one to find out. I volunteered and pried open the waxy-paper flaps.

Didn’t even bother to take a sniff. I just tipped up and gulped down. You can’t truly appreciate a great spoiled milk until your mouth is full of it.

That was it for me and milk.

I kept it down, though, and survived the episode. Got a couple of laughs from those watching – you know – from that I-just-drank-spoiled-milk face pucker. After that day: Milk? Not so much. Actually, closer to never again.

Too many associated memories with that one.

But recalling the Italian food, remembering the Lovera market with its tastes and aromas – that’s different.

When so many family businesses have a difficult time through the generations and when small businesses in general have enough roadblocks to continued success, it’s nice to see one still plugging away.

And doing a great job of it.

You can visit Lovera’s and the Krebs Italian eateries by rolling down through Okmulgee or Muskogee (depending on your highway of choice) and crossing the highway on the east side of McAlester. Ninety minutes from Broken Arrow, or thereabouts.

When you find yourself in downtown Broken Arrow, come visit!

McHuston

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

Gummed up, by Gum…

Remember getting your driver’s license? The test? That first driver’s license photograph? As noted here previously, times change.

I read somewhere that teenagers don’t aspire to drive cars like they used to. Don’t remember what the percentages were, but in my own case, I counted the days until the Big Sixteenth, which meant I could get my license.

In fact, I wanted to drive so badly that I did it anyway, with a secretly acquired key to that big-finned black Chevrolet. That was so long ago that my first driver’s license didn’t have my picture on it. They were made out of some kind of fuzzy thick paper that allowed for the easy changing of the year of birth. Not that I know anything about that. Can’t do it anymore, in this day and age, when things are different.

According to the item, the cost of gasoline was cited as one reason why an increasing number of teens are disinclined to become drivers. Lack of a car was another. Some just had a general malaise about the whole idea of getting behind the wheel.

It seemed like everyone wanted to drive when I was young. You’d dream about the car, and pick out a radio – or stereo, if you could afford one. You might sit out in the car after dinner, just listening to music and maybe wiping the dashboard down in case a speck of dust might have settled there.

Don’t think I was fanatical, really. But my friends joked that I changed jobs the way they changed cars and I kept cars like I was expecting a gold watch when I retired from my driving career. I’ve had the Firebird over a decade.

Just spent half an hour and nearly ten bucks trying to high-pressure wash the black dots of tree sap from the red paint. Sweetgum tree. Not so sweet to park under. Honestly, I should have done the wash-off a couple of weekends ago, but didn’t. Now, it’s baked on. My pants legs are soaked and my shoes are squishy with water from the overspray at the car wash. Still wouldn’t come clean. At least it was a nice evening for a washjob, especially considering the time of year. In fact, there was a nice cooling breeze as I blasted the water around and I was surprised to see a hot air balloon drifting over BA as I drove to the auto parts store.

O’Reilly’s has an aerosol-spray bug and tar cleaner – on sale, thankfully – which also promised to remove tree sap, that I grabbed for another go at it tomorrow.

Who’d a thought? When I visit the shopping centers, I park the car at the far end of the north forty so I don’t get a door ding, and then all but ruin the paint by leaving it under the tree beside the driveway.

Back in the day (which means about a lifetime ago) I used to enjoy washing the car. Not an everyday kind of thing, but more of a non-chore that needed to be done somewhat regularly. Back then it was inside and out. Today? Not so much. There are lots of things I’d rather be doing with my time.

But – by gum – I’ll be washing again tomorrow. By sweetgum, that is.

The street should be reopened by Monday, and all the dinosaur-looking yellow machines should be parked somewhere besides right in front of the shop door… so – Come visit!

McHuston

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

Nyuk Nyuk. A funny thing happened…

Humor.

It’s a funny thing. And I mean that literally, but not completely. That’s because what one person sees as a real knee-slapper another person might find annoying.

Keystone cops. Three Stooges. Legends. Sure, but I don’t think I ever laughed once. Slapstick just isn’t my thing. I hear people laughing (probably pre-taped and added in post-production) on the Funny Home Videos show, but I usually just cringe. I feel horrible for those people who tumble off the stage, ride their skateboards into the sides of parked cars, or slide down the snow-covered hill into a crotch-killing signpost.

Why don’t I see the humor in that?

Same reason a comedian named Steven Wright bombed in Tulsa years ago. I’d seen him on the Tonight Show and laughed out loud. Rare stuff for me. He followed a manic, frantic, prop-using funnyman on stage. Steven Wright’s brand of humor was a little more cerebral. Not brainiac stuff, really. But his droll delivery combined with his off-the-wall observations worked for me. When I saw him, he looked just like he does in the accompanying image.

Example (delivered in a deadpan, straight-face): Went home last night. Accidentally put my car key in the door lock. Turned it and the house started. So… I took it for a drive around the block.

The club was called Jokers. I was one of the only ones in the audience that night that laughed out loud. A few minutes after his set, I glanced to the side and saw Mr. Wright standing next to me. I apologized for the crowd, and admitted that I thought he was hilarious. He thanked me for the support. He had heard my laugh in the otherwise private-conversation-invested audience.

The humor-spectrum is the reason that so many different types of comedians can find success. There are that many people who find the various routines hilarious.

Tonight, I laughed out loud. The television is on in the office while I do some bookwork. (Book store, bookwork: get it? Yuk-yuk-yuk! Puns… the humor genre universally considered unfunny.) The CBS program Elementary is showing and Sherlock Holmes (I can only watch television based on literary fiction. –Joking) responded to a question posed by his assistant Watson.

Holmes, describing a remodeled wall in a home: …and the decomposing body caused a concave bulge in the wallboard.

Watson: You’re sure his body was hidden behind the wall?

Holmes, looking hesitant: Pretty sure.

The camera jumps to the interior of the house, where a gaping hole has been punched in the sheetrock and a body-shaped black-plastic-wrapped package is clearly visible. And it’s clear that the answer Holmes gave was purposely-driven, perfectly-timed:

Understatement.

I laughed out loud.

Realized immediately, that – just like the Steven Wright portion of that night at the comedy club – I was probably not in the majority in enjoying that humor.

So, I’m sitting here thinking: It’s funny how humor is so funny. And its just as funny how some humor is not-so-funny.

Some serious thoughts, there.

Makes me laugh.

Come visit!

McHuston

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

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