But busy.
BUT, not so busy that I can't fill you in on my exciting excursion throughout the exciting Eastern suburbs in my exciting European car with my exciting wife!
As planned, we piled into the Volvo (and I am getting closer to calling him "Järn," as I mentioned the other day--it sounds Swedish, since it is, and it's the word "iron." The other possibility is the word for brick, which is tegel. Or we might just go ahead and give him a given name and a surname and call him Järn Tegel. Or I might rub him and pat him and call him George. Anyway---) and headed over to the haircutting place, where I got my uneven follicles trimmed and evened-up. I look presentable again! Okay, not really. From there, it was time for some SUPPER!
[The late Dennis Washburn] "I carefully adjusted the mirrors in the sleek Swedish sedan and we eased out onto the highway, its powerful overhead cam four cylinder engine thrumming happily along." [/late Dennis Washburn]
Ever since we went out to the western part of town a couple of weeks back, I've been having a peculiar craving. Where I grew up in Forestdale, there was a Pasquale's Pizza (much loved, it seems, if the Internet is to be believed). Small and dim inside, with the "red naugahyde/skinny black wrought iron/dark tortured wood/red-and-white checkered formica" motif that said Old Italia. When I was a teenager, I always loved their stromboli steak sandwich.
When we passed by the place the other day, Reba mentioned it, and those stromboli steak sandwiches, and I've been thinking about having one of those ever since. It's probably been thirty years since the last time I had one, but the urge had become nearly overwhelming. Lucky for me, Reba knew of a Pasquale's over close to the Publix in Pinson, so I drove us over there.
We got there during the supper rush, which consisted of one other person. Reba got the buffet, and I ordered the sammich. O! Such anticipation. O! Such a letdown.
It was a very good sandwich. Blazing hot, on nice crispy garlic bread, but something either in the strom or the boli or the steak just wasn't what it was supposed to be. I remember it being gooshier, and saltier, and mushroomier, and, something. Again, it was a wonderful sandwich, as long as you had no distinctly-remembered frame of reference. ::sigh::
Oh well, at least the drive was fun, and Reba seemed to enjoy getting actually ride in my toy rather than look in dismay at the dull paint from the outside. Even BETTER, when we got home, the UPS guy had been by, and delivered...
NEW TAILLIGHTS!! I ordered a pair of brand new, made in Estonia taillights from Ebay to replace the cracked and tired existing units. Didn't think they were EVER going to get here, even though I only ordered them last week. BUT, arrive they did! With a gigantic triangular puncture wound in the dead center of the box. Looked like they got dropped onto the corner of something deadly.
I shook the box and didn't hear any tinkling plastic sound, so I got them inside and unwrapped them. The hole was punched clean through the outside box and the inside box that had one of the lamp units taped inside, and managed to miss the precious cargo by about an inch. Whew.
The rest of the evening was uneventful. More or less.
Posted by Terry Oglesby at July 27, 2005 11:19 AMTerry/Dennis
You didn’t tell us how MissReba/Bunny enjoyed her buffet. Or what was on it.
"The buffet was a delightful feast piled high with at least three slices of two types of pizza--one even had those scrumptious pepperonis the Italian people are so talented at making. Other items included spaghetti (another Italian favorite!) and lasagna--a layered dish consisting of large flat noodles and sauce and cheese. MMmm--yummy! Around the corner from the cashier was another line, reserved strictly for salads--it had a wide selection of lettuce, black olives, and dressings. In addition to the tasty and hot stromboli steak, I also ordered five of everything on the menu, and a gallon jug of beer. I even got Precious a little doggy bag of scraps! We were so full that it was all I could do to eat several pies, and to finish it all off with a nice bowl of ice cream, or as the Italians call it, "gelato."
After we'd finished up our delicious meals and headed out the door, we decided to stop off for a couple of fried chickens and some mashed potatoes, and a fifth of bourbon, then it was time for a twirl on the dance floor."
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at July 27, 2005 12:06 PMIt is really a shame the younger readers and those from out of town can’t appreciate how good you really are.
You remind me more and more of that Jack Douglas guy.
Thank you, Jim, but I must confess it's much easier when you're merely copying the Old Masters.
Janis, have I a dangling misspelling somewhere?!
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at July 27, 2005 02:08 PMNo, it's in the chatboard about Pasquale's that you cited.
Sheila, a descendant of the originators, made the mistake.
I still like it.
Posted by: Janis at July 27, 2005 02:22 PMI agree--it sounds something like it should be, "the specific quality possessed by an ingredient that makes it unique."
"The ingredience of Italian sausage should have a spark of fennel."
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at July 27, 2005 02:30 PMCan you repeat the first words that came to mind when you saw the spikehole in your delivered box? It would have been a shame to go to all that trouble of finding taillights and then have some stupid shipping problem ruin them.
Posted by: MarcV at July 27, 2005 02:47 PMI picked it up off the front porch where the UPS guy had flung it, and said, "Man, that's a big ol' hole! I hope nothing got broken." Then I stuck my finger in, and there was just a big void. I was very hopeful that was because the void had originally contained air, and not fine Eastern European plastic.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at July 27, 2005 02:56 PMI suppose I would have been more along the lines of *%#!! (thinking, not saying), so your example of decorum would be a good one to remember. If I ever have a box of fine Eastern European plastic delivered.
Posted by: MarcV at July 27, 2005 03:05 PMWell, I might have thought something like, "Oh, poop." But I really wasn't too worried--after all, my haircut had turned out very well.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at July 27, 2005 03:12 PMI'm impressed! We used to have a Pasquale's Pizza in the good old capital of KY, and it used to be the only place to get pizza; until Papa John's, Pizza Hut, Domino's, Pizza Inn and Little Ceasar's ran it out of business. That was some good pizza.
It is a bit odd that so many people seem to remember what was (or still is) such a tiny chain of restaurants.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at July 28, 2005 07:36 AM