In my bachelor days, I would often show up and chow down at HoJo's on Clamboree weekends. Sometimes they had an all-you-can-eat special, so I would skip lunch and breakfast and bring a book to my table and start sliding as many deep-fried mollusks down my neck as I could until the waiter refused to bring more. I would always say, "But the sign says, 'All You Can Eat'!" and the guy would say, "Son, that's all you can eat."
Never having been anywhere near Hawaii, I did not know that this is how pineapples were grown. I guess I thought they grew on trees, like other apples.
We haven't had snow in Baltimore AT ALL this year, but up north in New England, some waggish pranksters (possible ne'er-do-wells) rolled this gigantic snowball into the big intersection in town and Officer Obie had to come down and figure out what to do.
These guys are called Mandarin Fish. How perfectly beautiful! Another gift from nature for us.
And then we thank nature by leaving our foul detritus. We should be sent to our rooms without dinner.
A lighthouse on a starry night. Romance is in the air.
Now here's an idea from Italy: a restaurant set inside a lemon grove. These places usually have a choice of steak or fish. I usually have the lasagna. But if you have the fish, no need to ask for extra lemon! Just pluck one, and you're all set.
"Suddenly it's 1960." If only. But look at the tail fins on this block-long behemoth, this gas-guzzling land buffalo from Detroit. They don't make Plymouths any more, and if they did, they would do like all the others do in 2020: make a little car that looks like every other little car on the road.
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