Sunday Coffee IV

Most of us spend the first six days of each week sowing wild oats; then we go to church on Sunday and pray for a crop failure.
                Fred Allen (comedian)

Another change of venue this Sunday.  At the other Starbuck’s in Hercules, right on the border with Rodeo.  I guess you could say that Rodeo is the ugly stepsister of Hercules.  You could say it, but I won’t.  I think that Rodeo has more charm than Hercules, even with its Conoco-Phillips oil refinery.  Rodeo has a lonely downtown that’s maybe 50 percent vacant.  The face of the downtown doesn’t look like it’s had a lift in 50 years.  I think that’s part of the charm of the place.  In some places it seems that the murky San Pablo Bay waters lap right up to Parker Ave, the main drag.  I just wish there were more businesses here.  There are some venerable old places here though.  El Sol is a Mexican joint that’s been around for fifty years.  The anecdotal evidence is that it’s authentic and authentically good.  Ricky’s Corner is a local dive bar which I’m told offers some killer broasted chicken.  As best I can tell broasted chicken is kind of a kissing cousin to fried chicken.  I think once I’m off the blood thinners I’ll pay a visit to Ricky's.  Be fun to go into a dark, dank tavern with Kessler gracing the back bar.

Broasted chicken was once one of our Friday night staples.  I would pick up a bucket from a restaurant called Tommy’s in next door Pinole.  Tommy’s was a diner with a bar off to the side.  The bar is where you went to order your chicken.  It was dimly lit and decorated with owner Tommy Prather’s hobby memorabilia; hunting, fishing and golf.  Decorated is a kind way of saying that a new memento was hung on an unoccupied patch of wall.  I would go in of a Friday evening, nurse a martini or two and wait for my chicken, sitting at the bar amongst the regulars; retired blue collar guys and brassy blue haired women.   Bulging plain white bucket, potato wedges on the bottom, chicken on the top and grease seeping through the bucket.  With a spritz of hot sauce, nothing better.  Portly Tommy Prather who prowled behind the bar sharing anecdotes with the regulars passed away many years ago.  The restaurant is gone now replaced by something un-memorable.  Tommy was charitable to a fault and the community is much the worse for his passing.

Listening to Janis singing Me and Bobby McGee.  It’s revered as one of the great songs of all time.  She still sounds to me like the cat that unwisely swished her tail underneath that rocking chair.

This is strictly a generational thing and I’m going to come off as an unrepentant geezer but it seems to me that slang today lacks something.

 For instance, I often hear, “word.”  According to the Urban Dictionary, “word” means well said or is a statement of agreement.  “Word”.  There’s nothing there; just a word.  Word. 

Now consider the many colorful terms I used to hear to describe a jail; calaboose, the joint, the can, the cooler, stir, up the river and my favorite, the stony lonesome.

“Broseph” according to the Urban Dictionary describes a good friend.  Yeeeaaah, it’s okay I suppose but not up to, pal, pard, side kick, chum and buddy (which I call my grandson all the time).

It’s not that all of today’s slang is bland but much of it seems to lack imagination and color.  Just sayin’…

They're playing Cab Calloway’s Minnie the Moocher, being covered by a pretender. 

Speaking of moochers, yesterday’s big news is that Kim Kardashian got married yesterday.  Who in the bleep (and I’d really like to drop the “F” bomb here) cares?  I say moocher because she’s one of those rich socialites who feed off the fame trough for doing basically, well, nothing.  She is as the Bible scripture says, like the lilies of the field; “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin.” 

The manager of this Starbuck’s is working this morning.  She looks strikingly like Sandra Bullock.  And that’s pretty dad gum striking.

Kimmie’s wedding apparently trumped the news that two hikers being held by Iran were sentenced for spying by a religious zealot, kangaroo court.  They’re going to spend the next 6 to 8 years of their young lives in an Iranian calaboose.  And this is why I preach (pun intended) that we need to beware of politicians who wear their religion on their sleeves; who make decisions because they “prayed on” the issue or, God forbid, God told them to make that decision.  It’s not a liberal/conservative issue.  It’s a first amendment issue and yes I do consider myself a Christian.

Kim also was more important news than your paycheck if you’re a working stiff.  Seems the GOP is actually considering raising a tax.  No we aren’t taxing the rich or an oil company.  A payroll tax deduction that was temporarily reduced last year from 6.2 percent to 4.2 percent is due to expire and the GOP is hatching a plan to let it die.  We don’t want the rich and business to pay more taxes because they’re the “job creators”.  I’m still waiting to see them create all those jobs.  So is the legion of jobless.

I’m walking with a cane these days.  That’s a big step for me.  I’ve gotten rid of the crutch which was an improvement over the two crutches, which was much better than two crutches and a cast.  I won’t burden you with my problems but the short version is that I broke my ankle in May.  When the therapist told me I would be getting a cane I felt like it would be much more distinguished than the crutch.  I asked him if it came with a deerstalker hat and a pipe.  He wasn’t amused, “Just take the cane.”  For the uninitiated a deerstalker hat is also known as a Sherlock Holmes hat.  Now you have something to share at cocktail parties.  Do they still have cocktail parties?  They did when I was a kid.  Best described as happy hour at somebody’s house.  Anyway, I got the cane and was very disappointed.  It’s a black, sterile aluminum thing with a button and notches to adjust the height.  I’m hoping that this cane arrangement is very temporary but I’m still tempted to get a nice polished wooden one topped with an artistic porcelain or pewter knob.  They even have canes which hold a hidden brandy flask.  I could see myself with one of those.  Be a nice way to fortify the morning coffee.  A beret would be a great accessory.

My daughter and the grandkids are visiting today.  They should be getting up anytime now.  Time to go home for some quality time.

Finally I would like to thank my good friend Scott for pushing this little rag of mine.  I’ll remember him when I’ve become a rich and famous writer.  I would love to write a book.  Working on an idea about a bespectacled British kid named Harry who dabbles in magic and consorts with wizards. Nah, it’ll never fly.