40 odd things about me - Please play along! I think these are the second best thing on the internet, second only to videos of cats playing the piano.
1. Do you put ketchup on hot dogs? Yes and I always call it "catsup" just to be old-fashioned!
2. Choice of Pop/Soda? Seltzer (sparkling water) - Plain or grapefruit
3. Do you put salt on your watermelon? Yes
4. Can you swim? Yes, I learned as a child because it seemed likely that I would be tossed off a boat someday
5. Hot dogs or hamburgers? One of each, please. Cheese, catsup, mayo and fried onions on the burger, please/
6. Favorite food? Gotta say beef
7. Do you believe in ghosts? Not at all
8. What do you drink in the morning? Hot tea
9. Can you do 100 push ups? Sure, just give me a couple of weeks
10. Summer, Winter, Spring, or Fall? Fall
11. Your favorite Pet? My Eddie Cat
12. Tattoos? None yet but I want "BORN TOO LOOSE" on my forearm
13. Do you wear glasses? I need them to read but I wear them all the time because taking them off and putting them back on is a hassle
14. Do you have a phobia? Not crazy about heights
15. Do you have a nickname? Marky Mark (I had it first. My grandmother called me that, Mr Wahlberg.)
16. Three favorite animals? Cats, prairie dogs, and capybaras
17. Biggest down fall? Impatience
18. Rain or Snow? Snow and plenty of it
19. Can you change a tire? Can I? Yes. Will I? No.
20. Favorite flower? Pillsbury
21. Can you drive a stick? Yes
22. Ever gone sky diving? See # 14
23. Kids? None
24. Favorite colors? Brown and orange
25. Favorite movie? The Godfather, Stripes, The Dirty Dozen, Office Space
26. Can you whistle? No
27. Where were you born? Baltimore MD
28. Siblings? 1
29. Surgeries? 4
30. Shower or bath? Shower
31. Last song you heard? Twisting USA - Danny And The Juniors
32. Broken a bone? No
33. How many TVs in your home? 4
34. Worst pain? Deaths of loved ones.
35. Do you like to sing? Yes! I'm naturally a bass, but people often ask me to sing tenor. Ten or twelve miles away.
36. Are your parents still alive? Deceased, 1997 and 2014.
37. Do you like camping ? I can't even imagine it.
38. What do you binge watch? Right now I'm going back through That 70's Show, streaming year by year. 😄
39. Pumpkin or pecan pie? I like both but pecan is better. I also like blueberry and cherry and sweet potato.
40. Add a photo of yourself.
40 odd things about me - Please play along! I love reading them
When I was younger, I was busier, working and doing whatnot for my parents, so we ate a lot of fast food. I always loved Taco Bell. I think Peggy did too, but not as much as I did. And every time I went in there, I thought of radio legend Don Geronimo saying that he would buy three Nacho Supremes and devour them for a late afternoon snack. I wanted to try to match that but I never did.
The Bell was like catnip to me, and with two locations close by the Lazy 'C,' I was never far from a bagful of heaven. And for those rare days when I didn't feel like having a taco, the Bell Beefer did the job- it was the taco meat on a hamburger roll. Best of both worlds, right?
But being retired means I cook almost all of our meals, and while I can't say my tacos and tostadas are as good as Taco Bell's, I don't get many complaints.
Remember the Double Decker Taco: that was the answer to "what kind of shell do I want?" You got a hard taco wrapped in a soft flour tortilla, with refried beans as the middle layer. That was on the menu from 1995 until 2019 when, apparently, someone in the home office went crazy. That was the time when they also cut out Fiery Doritos Locos Tacos, among several others.
Maybe it will be one of the originals, from 1970: The Enchirito, which was sort of an enchilada and sort of a burrito...beef, beans, and onions tucked in for a good time in a soft flour tortilla, swimming in shredded cheddar and red sauce. That little crowd-pleaser got the boot in 2013, and who knows why?
Taco Bell Headquarters says the Enchirito and the Double Decker Taco are “two of the most requested menu items.” Voting has been going on online and the results will be announced soon at a gala event emceed by Donald Trump.
And all this came about because the public lobbied successfully for the company to bring back the Mexican Pizza, which was recently reinstated to a permanent spot on the menu.
“On the heels of the love and passion we saw for Mexican Pizza, we wanted to continue elevating the voices of our most loyal fans by giving them exclusive access to a uniquely digital experience that fosters brand love,” Taco Bell chief brand officer Sean Tresvant said in the press release.
Don't we all love corporate-speak? Say, Sean, how about another round of Cinnamon Cinnamon Crispas?
I think the first time I saw it on TV was the old Mary Tyler Moore Show, where hardbitten news boss Lou Grant kept a bottle of whiskey in his bottom desk drawer to help himself deal with good news and bad news in the newsroom.
Now it's a standard scene in lawyer shows to have the brilliant barrister have a bottle of hooch on hand. Sometimes it's in his desk, sometimes he has a whole bar set up in his office.
But the tv station and the law firms are private businesses. It crosses the line when things like that happen in government offices, but that's what was going on in Montgomery County, Maryland, right outside Washington D.C.
The head of their planning board has acknowledged keeping a "well-stocked liquor cabinet" in his office, and for that, he has been reprimanded by the County Council and docked four weeks pay.
Casey Anderson is the name of the man in charge of the board. Two other members will find their paychecks lighter by one day as a result of their involvement.
There was an anonymous complaint filed with the county's inspector general, and as the investigation unfolded (what investigation? They walked into his office and it looked like the set of "Cheers") Anderson admitted having dozens of bottles of the devil's brew in his office.
Two things to remember: as with all government structures, the people who work there are being paid by taxpayers, who might not look favorably on their tax-supported workplaces having the ambiance of the Club Pussycat. Montgomery County has a strict stated policy against alcohol in the workplace.
Anderson, as the head of the agency, would oversee the disciplinary process if any of his employees were spotted nipping from the sauce while on the job.
And he didn't just ride in on a head of cabbage. He's been on the board for eleven years, serving as chairman for the last eight
The nine-member County Council, 100% Democrats, said they were “extremely disappointed” in the way Anderson, Vice Chair Partap Verma and Commissioner Carol Rubin acted on the job, saying, “Montgomery County Planning Board leadership must model the behavior that we want all employees to display.”
Anderson, Verma, and Rubin will soon be warming seats at Employee Assistance Program counseling, as per the Commission’s protocol.
Anderson made the following statement: “I remain committed to the important work of our agency and the county government in moving our community forward.”
He should have added, "Work is a place for work to get done, and alcohol is not a part of that."
Around the middle of March, 2020, as the news of the pandemic became increasingly dire, we felt the world shifting around us. It was sort of like being in a car with failing brakes and a thoroughly inadequate sound system as we hurtled headlong through changes like we had never seen before.
Changes like mask mandates and distance learning and social distancing and everyone reeking of Purell and businesses going under and toilet paper shortages and so much sickness and death.
Some two and a half years later, those who died are not coming back, but we are dying at a much slower rate, thanks to common sense and vaccinations and rules instituted for the good of all, because some people just won't go along with medical recommendations. And yes, the pendulum has swung back to a certain degree, but there are things that are just never going to be the same. Some people will work from home, if not all of the time, a great deal of the time. Supply chain issues will continue, because the people who make cake mix and shirts and gimcracks saw how well it worked for the toilet paper people - claim a shortage and jack the price way up high - and they want their share, too.
But there is one tradition in America that the pandemic may just about be ready to ruin forever, and I feel it necessary to explain this custom to friends who live in countries where the only snow they see is in a spray can or a snow globe toy.
In the parts of the US where it snows enough that cars have a hard time getting around, the tradition has been to close school for those days. Children wake up early, turn on the tv or the tablet (they don't even know what a radio is anymore) and wait to hear the official announcement "Baltimore County Schools will be closed today due to inclement conditions."
With the chance of snow in the air, the kids wore their pajamas inside-out the night before to increase the chance of snow. They might have put a spoon under the pillow for the same reason, they might have performed a ritual "Snow Dance," they might have put some ice cubes out on the porch or flushed ice down the toilet, and any number of localized folkloric steps to assuring schools will be closed.
Once the word is out, everyone goes back to sleep for awhile and then eats four bowls of highly sugared cereal before going out to play in the snow, which activity parents hope will last until way past dark, at which time it's proper to come in and pray for "just one more day..."
Oh sure, they say that "the implementation of the plan in no way means that every inclement weather day will become a virtual instructional day." And that the decision will be made on a case-by-case basis.
But you know how these things go. They say they can do this scheme as many as eight days a year, so just put your pajamas on right, put that spoon back in the draw, and get that tablet out.
Miss Cellaneous wants your attention. Building that snowman can wait until after you have mastered quadratic equations.
You know, one lawn chore I really don't mind doing is raking leaves. We don't have that many leaves because we don't exactly have a forest of trees here at the Lazy 'C' Ranch, you understand, but when they come down, they have to meet their fortune at the hands of a rake.
Now, where's a schoolkid, preferably one with a rake, now that the leaves are all over the yard? Oh, that's right, they're up at the school, learning about abscission layers and petioles and I don't know what-all else.
By now, I hope that everyone has had a chance to see "Caddyshack" at least five times. That was the movie from 1980, starring Chevy Chase, Rodney Dangerfield, Ted Knight, and Bill Murray concerning the antics of the snobs at a golf club and the grits who worked there.
It's a movie that probably inspired more lines repeated by more people than any others, lines like:
So if you remember all that, you remember the name of the boat on which Rodney Dangerfield comes sailing, with its anchor sinking Judge Elihu Smails's boat "The Flying Wasp." It was the Seafood! And now you can own it!
The powerboat Seafood is a 60-foot Striker built in 1979, is up for sale, and recently renovated. It's 19 feet wide and has all-new upholstery and "house systems" (electric, plumbing, what-have-you) and updated cockpit and cabins. It has three staterooms plus a master bedroom, full kitchen, storage space. You could say it is a titanic boating value, and you could own it!
If your ship has come in and you've got the stock market beat, pull out a measly $349,000 and call Lidia Goldberg at United Yacht Sales. Then get a new hat and a bowl of soup and invite us all aboard!
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How well would your relationship with your sigoth (significant other) do if you were handcuffed to each other for 123 days?
Most people would answer by saying that 123 minutes would be more than enough to lead to shrill shrieking and a tug-of-war, but over in Ukraine, Alexandr Kudlay and Viktoria Pustovitova, who tried the handcuff route, have broken up. They only tried it in order to put their on-and-off relationship back "on" for good. It did not work. And they were on national TV over there, even in the middle of their war, to say that trying this experiment in total togetherness "brought home uncomfortable truths."
They locked the cuffs on Valentine's Day, which was just about the time the Russians invaded their country. They live in the eastern city of Kharkiv.
Social media followed them as they did everything together, shopping for groceries, smoking cigarettes, whatever. The article I saw said they took turns using the bathroom and the shower and it does not make clear whether they unshackled to perform their ablutions. As a solo showerer of many years, I sincerely hope they did.
Ms Pustovitova was not in favor of the whole deal from the get-go, and the end made her cry.
"I think it will be a good lesson for us, for other Ukrainian couples and couples abroad not to repeat what we have done," is how she put it to Reuters in an interview in Kyiv.
In the greatest understatement since Mary Todd Lincoln said she found "Our American Cousin" "disappointing," Ms Pustovitova said she missed her personal space.
And she elaborated, saying she didn't feel that Alexandr "did not pay her enough attention" while they were going around chained to each other.
I mean, how could he not, unless he strained his neck to look the other way?
"We stayed together all day, I did not receive any attention from Alexandr because we were constantly together. He did not tell me: 'I miss you', while I would like to hear that," said Viktoria, who is 29 and works as a beautician.
(Come to think of it, the article did not mention either of them working during these 123 days, although I am sure that most beauticians would appreciate having someone constantly at hand to hand her those little sheets of foil or another bobby pin.)
Kudlay, 33, a car salesman, said he didn't regret the experiment, but concluded that the two were not "like-minded people".
"We are not on the same wavelength, we are totally different," he admitted.
The next move is selling the handcuffs online, auction-style, with part of the money going to charity.
They posted one last Instagram photo. It showed their 7,800 followers a picture of them standing apart, staring at the floor.
I don't know if there are hamburger police, but I have known people (fully grown) who bashfully admit that they have bought a McDonalds Happy Meal for themselves!
What do you get in a happy meal? Either a hamburger or McNuggets (4-piece or 6-piece), with some fries, apple wedges, and a bottle of milk.
If that's enough for your lunch or dinner, go for it! If you can live with the shame of lying to a kid working at McDonald's, be my guest. I really don't see anything wrong with it at all, although milk with burger and fries seems a bit odd.
So, always looking to meet customer demand, McD's is coming out with their new "McDonalds' New Happy-Meal Inspired Box For Adults!"
Just like the kids, you'll either get a Big Mac or 10-piece nugs. And a figurine.
And an odd name for your meal -- the Cactus Plant Flea Market Box -- which is based on a fashion brand that's in on the deal with McDonald's.
There's a fashion brand called Cactus Plant Flea Market? Apparently so.
The selling point is that the box, which is multi-colored and replete with golden arches, conjures memories of your childhood Happy Meals.
They started selling them this past Monday and the promotion continues "while supplies last."
And about the toys, which will really be the thing to lure the crowds to the Arches...you'll get on of four in each meal box. You'll get new artistic versions of Grimace, Hamburglar, Birdie The Early Bird, or a new character, a yellow dude in a McShirt. He is known as Cactus Buddy.
I don't know where to go first - McDonald's, or Cactus Plant Flea Market...
“More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.” - attributed to Saint Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)
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| Saint Teresa |
I saw this quote as the epilogue to an essay about the life of Truman Capote (1924-1984), the novelist/essayist/poet/critic/biographer who was born with a great facility for written language and turned it into great success in many fields, only to waste it all away by overindulgence in drugs, alcohol, and debauchery.
Saint Teresa was a 16th-century Spanish saint, a noblewoman who became a Carmelite nun, church reformer, and mystic. The chances are good that, had she and Capote existed at the same time, they would not have traveled in the same circles, for she gave up social prominence and chose an ascetic lifestyle, giving up the sinful pleasures to attain higher spiritual goals. She came from a well-to-do background and forwent the mundane pleasures, while Capote came from a simple Southern background and strove mightily to taste of those pleasures until his life became all party and no worthwhile work.
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| Capote |
My life, your life, and the history of the entire world are all filled with examples of people who miss planes that crash, people whose car broke down on the way to work and kept them safe on 9/11, jobs we wanted that we didn't get and it was better that we didn't...it's an endless cornucopia of lessons learned.
As an admirer of Capote's work, I wish he had found it in himself to do more of it. In Cold Blood, his 1965 classic book was one of the first, and certainly the best, attempts at telling a non-fictional story in the style of detective fiction. Capote actually moved to Kansas to follow the arrest, trial, and conviction of two men who murdered four members of the Herb Clutter family in Holcomb in 1959. He was a perfectionist in his writing, known for spending a day fussing over one word on a page of his brilliant prose, and the world of books has been the less for his passing.
Although self-awareness was not always a hallmark of Capote's personality, he was wise enough to take a friend along to Kansas to help him gain the trust of the locals and take notes as he interviewed them. He knew that his...quirkiness...might not play too well out there in the Grain Belt. That friend was his friend since childhood...Harper Lee, who somehow found time to work on her own novel, the excellent Pulitzer prize-winning "To Kill A Mockingbird.
Capote first published his findings in serial form in The New Yorker before editing them as a book. It was later that he revealed that the magazine had sent him out to cover the story and had given him the choice between the Clutter murders and a day with a New York cleaning lady as subjects to write about. He chose the Clutter story first, but later spent a day with his cleaning lady in 1979 and wove the tale of her work and life into a short story called "A Day's Work."
Choices...we make them and wait to see how they turn out.
Someone once said that you didn't have to be around in the 70s to love "That 70s Show," and that someone was right! Like any great situation comedy, that show had all the right components - a great cast, great writing, and a million great ideas for stories.
The show catches your attention from the moment it bursts onto your screen (it's rerunning, sorry, streaming, on Peacock now) because of the theme song. Whereas a lot of shows hardly even have much of a theme, this one did, and there's a story or two behind it.
Once upon a time lived a teenager from Memphis by the name of Alex Chilton. At age 16, fresh off success at the talent show at Central High (Elvis went to Humes High) Alex joined a local band hitherto known as Ronnie And The Devilles, who changed their name to The Box Tops and recorded two big hits, "The Letter" and "Cry Like A Baby."
Leaving Memphis behind, Alex learned guitar and songwriting, forming a band called Big Star that is still regarded highly, but ironically, failed to become big stars at all. On their first album "#1 Record" (again, a sad irony; it came nowhere near the top of the charts) Alex and co-writer Chris Bell came up with "In The Street," which came to the mind of a friend of Alex named Ben Vaughn, who was working on the soundtrack of the new "That 70s Show" in 1998. For the first season of the show, a version of "In The Street" as recorded by singer Todd Griffin and some Los Angeles studio musicians was used as the show theme.
Here is the original Big Star version:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2iXukwny37U
The redone version lacked what is technically referred to as either "oomph" or "pizzaz," so they brought in Cheap Trick to make what I think is the definitive version of the song we love to hear as everyone rides in the car. In this montage, you'll hear all the versions used in the show: the first version, the Cheap Trick versions, and the versions with Christmas and Halloween music effects added:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2CYKlWm5pg
"We're all alright" was added because it was the chant from Cheap Trick's great song "Surrender" which I refuse to stop singing when I'm alone in the car.
Chris Bell died many years ago, leaving Chilton to collect his half of the royalties on their song. For whatever reason, Alex never made it very big in music although, as I say, he was highly thought of by other musicians and rock critics. He never had more hits. He passed in 2010 under sad circumstances; he had been ailing but did not seek medical attention because he had no health insurance, so he lived to be but 59.
Cheap Trick is still out on the concert circuit, still playing what they call "That 70s Song" night after night, and although Alex Chilton, before his death, told Rolling Stone he never watched the show or heard Cheap Trick's version of the song, he made $70 in royalty every time the reruns played somewhere, so he called the show "That $70 Show."
“Music has charms to soothe a savage breast.” - Little Richard
It was on this day in 1955 that the first real teenage idol, actor James Dean, died at age 24 in a car wreck in Cholame, California. He had bought a new Porsche 550 Spyder (for $7,000, which was a fortune in those days!) and was on his way to take part in the Salinas Road Races.
As you might have heard, the star of "Rebel Without A Cause" died at the intersection of California highways 466 and 41, about a mile east of Cholame. Dean's passenger was his mechanic, Rolf Wuthering.
Wuthering had been a German Luftwaffe glider pilot, paratrooper, and aircraft mechanic.
The two were intending to stop in a diner at Paso Robles for dinner, but at 5:45 PM Dean's car T-boned a Ford driven by 23-year-old Donald Turnupseed, a Navy veteran student at Cal Poly.
Estimates of the Dean car speed range from 85 to well over 100 miles per hour. In the setting sun, Turnupseed likely did not even see the small low-slung silver car approaching as he pulled onto Highway 41.
Just a few weeks prior to the accident, Dean had filmed a public service announcement asking that people drive safely on the highways.
Dean had the nickname "Little Bastard" painted on the car as a middle finger to his boss, Jack Warner, of THE Warner Brothers. Jimmy had been squatting on a studio lot in what was supposed to be his temporary trailer while filming "East Of Eden." He incurred the wrath of Warner by refusing to vacate the trailer, so Warner called him a "little bastard."
Dean was pronounced dead while in an ambulance on the way to a hospital, and Wutherich was transported to a hospital with broken bones and rather serious internal injuries.
Wutherich died at 53 in 1981 after crashing his Honda Civic into a house.
Turnupseed was slightly injured. There was an official investigation into the wreck, and some weight was given to the possibility of charging him with negligent driving, but that went no further. From that day until his death in 1995, he spoke not one word about it all.
He built the electric service company he inherited from his father into a million-dollar business.
Oh, and after the accident, the police wouldn't even give him a ride home, telling him to hitchhike to his family home in Tulare.
Before you run off to call the Icelandic version of the ASPCA...this is normal, they do it every year, and it's not nearly as weird as it sounds to say that the people of the Westman Islands in Iceland toss thousands of baby puffins off a cliff.
Whoa. It's actually an important thing, and it saves bird lives. It's called "puffling season."
You see, Atlantic puffins have their chicks ("pufflings") on high cliffs overlooking the sea. And when the young birds are ready to fly away ('fledge") they leave the bird colony and go off to see for a few years, and return back to the land for breeding.
But the problem is, city lights are confusing to the little pufflings. A woman named Kyana Sue Powers tells NPR that it was moonlight that used to guide the young ones to the ocean, but now the lights have them mixed up, so pufflings are set free during daylight because they would fly back into town if they left at night.
Powers says she was at Vestmannaeyjar, on Iceland's South Coast, last summer, when she saw a curious thing: children and adults running around carrying boxes and flashlights.
That's called "Puffling Patrol." In August and September, the people of Vestmannaeyjar round up stray puffers who crash land in town, having confused town lights for the light of the moon.
The next day, these kind people take the birds to the cliffs and set them free to fly off.
This is necessary for the survival of the species, explains Rodrigo A. MartÃnez Catalán of Náttúrustofa Suðurlands [South Iceland Nature Research Center]. He says that puffins mate for life, incubate only one egg per season, and do not lay eggs every year.
"If you have one failed generation after another after another after another," Catalán said, "the population is through, pretty much."
In other words, without these puffling-tossers, no more puffins! People to the rescue. And Powers says it's a communal thing, people out on the streets having a great time doing something great.
Puffin patrol begins around 9 PM and goes on until as late at 3 in the morning. They go where the lights are to find the lost ones: golf courses, hospitals, schools, construction sites. Sometimes people get in their boats and cruise the harbors, looking for birds there in the water.
Catalán says one should wear gloves when picking up the little peepers. That protects people from avian flu and the birds from chemicals and oil on human hands. They keep the bird overnight in a cardboard box with some grass inside, and then it's off to the cliffs the next day.
"It's a great feeling because you just rescued this little guy. And when you bring him to the cliff – it's the first time in his life he's seeing the ocean, and he's gonna live there for the next few years," Powers told NPR. "I'm always like, 'Bye buddy, have a great life, I can't wait to see you again.'"
And the headline read:
THE QUEEN'S BEES HAVE BEEN INFORMED OF HER DEATH
And in all the sadness of the mournful rituals attending Her Majesty's passing, we decided this was the most English thing ever.
And I'm guess a lot of us thought at first it was some sort of gag, leading into a Monty Python or even a Benny Hill routine.
But no, 'twas all true to form. The Royal Housekeeper, 79 years of age, told the news, “It is traditional when someone dies that you go to the hives and say a little prayer and put a black ribbon on the hive... You knock on each hive and say, ‘The mistress is dead, but don't you go. Your master will be a good master to you.’ "
According to the New York Times, the tradition goes back many centuries.
“It’s a very old and well-established tradition, but not something that’s very well-known,” said Mark Norman, a folklorist and the author of “Telling the Bees and Other Customs: The Folklore of Rural Crafts.”..
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| The Royal Beekeeper |
18th and 19th-Century English men and women thought that if the bees were not notified of a death at the top of the family, all sort of trouble would result, up to and including the death or "sudden departure" of the person who failed to make the notifications to the buzzers.
Or they would stop making honey, just for spite.
Today's beekeepers don't necessarily buy the bad luck/ no honey doom predictions, but then again, they aren't about to discontinue the tradition, out of "a mark of respect,” Mr. Norman said.
It's an interesting tradition, and like a lot of customs from the long-ago era, it indicates honor for nature, which is not a bad thing at all.
We're all heard about the guy who tells his friend they're going to drive across the state line to visit this ice cream shop he knows where they have every flavor known to man, and how they pile into the guy's Pontiac and begin the journey, up the highway, across the line, onto two-lane highways and then single lane country roads, up and down, through the hills and dales, all the while with their minds racing across the flavor spectrum, thinking about all the tastes they'll soon explore.
And when they park and go inside, the passenger says to The Guy, "It's on me...go ahead and order!"
And The Guy says, "Make mine vanilla."
It's on old joke but no less funny, once you dust it off, because a lot of us just happen to like vanilla ice cream. I would prefer it any day over Tutti Frutti Banana Custard Surprise or whatever someone is scooping up.
Meanwhile, out in sun-baked Arizona there's an ice cream shop making room on their wall to post their newly-minted Guinness World Record certificate, proof that they not only offer 266 milkshake flavors, but can blend them all up in just over an hour.
The shop is called Snow Cap, and they are located in Seligman (I haven't, either). They showed how fast they can shake those things recently while Mobil 1, the synthetic motor oil company, was showing off their wares alongside other local attractions as part of its Keep Route 66 tour.
The Delgadillo family owns Snow Cap, and they got the job done, making every milkshake they mention on their menu in an hour and a quarter as the Guinness adjudicator was on hand as the shop's owners, the Delgadillo family, made every milkshake on the menu in about 1 hour and 15 minutes.
And, believe it or not, they not only have the standard vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry options, but they'd be tickled to set you up with peanut butter and onion ring milkshakes, banana and chili, and orange and fish burger.
Can I say it again? Make mine vanilla!
I guess I'm The Guy.
We don't keep secrets, do we? I've always admitted my many shortcomings (impatience), faults (I'm quite the philistine, turning my nose up at ballet, Albee plays, and modern art), and unwillingness to try new things (no pineapple pizza, and I mean it!)
So please don't be shocked when I mention my addiction. Everyone has one, and if there's a twelve-step program for getting over being hooked on "Chesapeake Shores" on the Hallmark Channel, I haven't heard about it.
It's one of those shows that comes on for about ten episodes a year. It's one of those shows that's about a family and the people they love and don't love anymore, and maybe marry, maybe not.
There was no reason ever to start watching the show when it premiered on the Hallmark Channel back on August 14, 2016, opening a horn of plenty that brought Jesse Metcalfe, Meghan Ory, Barbara Niven, Laci J. Mailey, Emilie Ullerup, Brendan Penny, Andrew Francis, Diane Ladd and Treat Williams into our home. But we watched it, and it's like trying to eat one corn nut. You can say what you will about these actors, but you cannot deny that each and every one of them is a prime example of what it looks like when you're a good-looking person.
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| I mean, really. Besides how unlikely it is that everyone in a family looks like TV stars, the show is supposed to be about the goings-on of a family on Maryland's Shore - on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay. And they throw in Baltimore references, and talk about the Orioles, and someone's office being "up in Baltimore." But no one has even a trace of a local accent, they never mention National Beer, Berger's Cookies, or crabs (they go to a lobster feast!) and they wear sweaters to sit around outside in July when we're panting like dogs in tank tops. I mean, we're sweating like humans in tank tops. You can't get a dog to put on a tank top around here in July. A few years ago, another network put on a show about Point Pleasant, New Jersey. But they filmed it on the west coast, and we were sitting here back east, wondering how they got the sun to set over the ocean in New Jersey. These little things should matter, but the show was filmed on Qualicum Beach in Vancouver, Canada, and the neighboring town of Parksville, British Columbia. Anomalies abound. This show revolves around the O'Brien family. One of the O'Brien sons comes home from the Army and becomes a firefighter in Chesapeake Shores. He falls for a local woman who is also hired as a firefighter but soon decamps for the Philadelphia Fire Dept. She says she "transferred to Philadelphia." One might be transferred to another fire station, but never to another city's fire department. But she came back and they got married. One of the daughters is a lawyer, one runs an inn with her husband, one writes books. The lawyer daughter had a thing going with a local boy who had become a big country singer but chose his music over his woman. The innkeeper's father-in-law is in trouble, running from American authorities over his embezzlement of millions of dollars, so he is now seen wearing a pith helmet in a phone booth in what must be a tropical location because there are giant plants and a ceiling fan. The son who isn't a firefighter is a lawyer but he had a heart attack from getting himself all worked up over his cases and now he is about to marry the paralegal who came to work with him and just passed the bar exam. The daughter who writes books was just offered a deal to turn her book into a movie and the family was nattering on about who would play whom in the film, since the book was a thinly-veiled look at a real American family...theirs! The parents are divorced but it looks like they'll be getting back together, although the mom just went to Los Angeles to work for the Getty Art Museum. The father is a builder and entrepreneur who flew his own plane until he crashed it and now, after a short period of physical therapy, he is a pill freak, strung out on painkillers and reluctantly attending NA meetings. The grandmother is nowhere to be seen this season, but when she was around, she would break into an Irish accent for no reason at all and spout bromides about life that only occur to people who have lived 70+ years. And yet, every Sunday, I'm ready for another new episode and I will be sorry to see "Chesapeake Shores" end after this season. I gave up on "The Young And The Restless" in 1993. Maybe I can go back and pick up the story line and have a new addiction. Are Victor and Nikki married again? |
