"Reflections"

Every now and then yours truly likes to reflect, if you will. And tonite's the night for refelecting.

I think I've had enough of this freakin' job. I see no future, unless you classify working 60-70 hours a week; every weekend; every holiday; every night; a good gig.
Me? I've had enough of the rat race. I would like to sit back and truly watch the wheels go 'round and 'round.

The food biz sux. And it's for suckers who want to give their lives up. The g.m. at my store is a living, breathing example of such servitude. He gets his willies off by increasing sales and being the big man on campus. And what kind of life has it afforded him? He just worked 3 weeks in a row without a day off. And he was whining and moaning-albeit proudly-how tired he was for his dedication.

Dedication shmedication. Speaking of such: working in the food biz WILL cause [ she ] medication. Like prozac, lexapro, wellbutrin, etc. And what for? I have no freakin' clue.

There's no personalities out there any more. Everyone's programmed to be a robot for the company. It's all scripted. It's all laid down. Don't deviate from the script. It's like we've all been turned into "Stepford Wives."

"Hello. Welcome to Dingleberry's Casual Dining Experience. We hope you will enjoy the experience. And we're hoping we exceed your expectations. Then we will know if we've been suckcessful."

"Have a nice day."

"If we don't smile your fuckin', er, freakin' experience is on us."

I've had enough. Kaput, fini.' Take the stepford wife and cram it up yer ass.

Gimme shelter, v.c.

P.S. I can't do what ten people tell me to do!! Or can I?

"Hello"

Just wanted to see if this thing still works. I will be leaving Columbus two days from now. It will good to get home again. What does the future hold in store for me. Only time will tell, eh?

Life is like a box of chocolates, v.c.

P.S. There's shrimp gumbo; shimp po-boy; shrimp salad; shrimp etouffee; shrimp scampi; shrimp fried rice; ....

"Stank You Very Much"

My friend Marty hails from hurricane alley, sunny Florida if you will. He was fired from Piccadilly Cafeterias in 2001. Seems his services were no longer needed.

Even tho' fired he became mesmerized by the PIC Yahoo board, where you could write comments about the company and engage other members of the Piccadilly/Morrison's fraternity.

Most of the comments were negative, but Hoots caught hell by being positive amidst the lynch-mob mentality.

I became engaged as well and began writing funny ( ? ) forays into the infantile. I have always had this creative side so this was right up my alley. ( pun somewhat unintended )

It was fun. In the beginning-even tho' I didn't know the boy-we soon were forging a bond, and we soon identified ourselves to each other. He was known as ibbq4you2, while yours truly was known as vietnamcatfish.

Marty always had high praise for my work and for that I will always be grateful. He had a flair for writing as well and penned many memorable posts. He also adopted other profiles, most notably Red and GODelegate. Ooop, the cat's outta the bag. ( pun intended )

He wrote a foray a coppola years ago and hootsbuddy deemed it worthy to post on his blog. For those who eschew ( gesundheit ) hoots column for a more humourous one, here is the link.

So tonite's column is from Martry, aka the bbq man. I miss his writings and wish he would do more.


For auld times sake, v.c.

P.S. As for the title of last weeks foray-"could have, should have, would have-" here's my retort:

"P.M. Shift"

I hate the food business. Maybe that's too harsh. I loathe and despise the food biz. Wait a minute. That's even more harsh. I dislike the food biz.

The way the food is brought in these days. Heat and serve. And the smells that emanate make me want to gag.

Eggs for yer breakfast sausage-that's a good one. Flip the little morsel into the microwave and voila. Throw it on yer biscuit and serve it to the customer.

Guests, team members, moving forword, acronyms, etc. make me want to barf.

And strategies for running a business make me want to hurl. A big rock onto someone's noggin. You never have have enough help. Why? Because some bean counters devised a plan that does not work as far as growing your business. But will work for making your labor goals while working the shit out of you and the, er, team members.

Just wanted to get that off my chest. Have a great nite!

From v.c.

P.S.

"The Catfish Shall Rise Again" P.S. "Good Nite Tonite"

It's been about a week since yours truly penned a few words on "G.P." Forays have been few and far between. My magical mystery tour is about to end < thank gawd > cos living out of a suitcase ain't no fun. Anyone who's ever done it will attest.

6 more days of fun starting in the a.m. A limousine will pick me up at 6:30 and transport me the closest metropolitan airport, which is securely nestled 20 or so miles from here. Can anyone say Nashville? Grand Ol' Opry and all that. And whatever happened to Roy Clack, Buck Owens, and Minnie Pearl. Not to mention Tammy Yknot, Merle Haggard, and Loretta Lynn, a coal miner's daughter.

Tonite I have no homework and will watch the NBA on TNT. Thank goodness for Ted Turner, eh? Who rescued the Atlanta Braves from oblivion < see mid seventies > and who was one of the driving forces behind free agency for the playas. Circa mid 70's as well. Andy Messersmith and Dave McNalley were the first free agents of baseball. And Ted was so enamored with Andy, his Braves jersey actually read "Channel 17."

Bowie Kuhn, the commish at the time, didn't cotton to this maverick from Hades, and ordered Ted to put Messersmith on the boy's uniform. Those who forget that the Superstation was once Channel 17 on the lowly UHF airwaves. And they laughed at him when he wanted to start an all-news network. Seems he was way ahead of his time.

Me and Kitty used to go to the games back then and watch the likes of Biff Pocoroba, Rod Gilbreath, Phil "Knucksie" Niekro, and Jerry Royster. And my team was always languishing in last place. No one would have ever guessed they would become one of the dynasties of the 90's, only one World Series title notwithstanding. "Slide, Sid, slide," eh? < as he lumbered in from second base >

Well, I didn't have a plan when I began my foray. Just went off the cuff. Don't know much about what's happening in the world. Haven't been reading the paper or listening to the radio. How's old George W. doing? And Nancy Pelosi? And Arnold?

Well, the NBA beckons and your prognosticator proudly picks New Jersey to win game 5 and Phoenix to win game 5, as well. Even tho' they're playing without Amare Stodomaire ( sp ) and Raja Bell. Seems they went to the aid of their teammate, Stevie Nash, late in game 4, when he was unceremoniously shoved into the scorer's table.

Yes, ye old mystery tour has about run its course. Goodbye Tennessee. Hello Jawja.

It's all good, v.c.

"Still Alive and, er, Kicking"

Haven't had much of a chance to write any forays. Been working and working and working.

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. Who would have thunk the Mavs would go down to the Warriors?

"Last Day"

Tonite is my last time in this sleepy mountain town. Well, not really. I've got to return on the 16th due to my missing class the other day. [ see intestinal virus aka Hong Kong Flu that yours truly experienced last week ]

It was brutal, and one of the sickest I've ever been in my life.

So I'm not sure when my next foray will be because....


Gimme shelter, v.c.

"Thanks For the Comment"

I see where someone left a comment, but because of "Big Brother" I won't be able to peruse it until a later date. Me suspects the trickle of words came from either the hootster or the bbq man.

I have another assessment tomorrow. But it gets easier, because they tell you the questions to answer. It's either a gratuitous gesture, or our scores were so low we needed help. I did make a "40" on one test, but it was the next day after my bout with a stomach flu which kicked my butt. Literally and figuratively.

I attempted to explain to my instructor:

"But, I've been sick the last two days with the Hong Kong flu."

"You had your reading assignments."

I started to tell her of my many episodes with the can and how I could barely hold my head up, but, she in her intestinal, er, infintestinal judgment, remarked that the test scores are an accumulative score and not to worry about it.

That's easy for her to say. So I have to make a 120 on the next 5 tests. Nothing to it, eh? Only thing is the score stops at a cool one hundred.

Well, it's study time. Plus, methinks "Big Brother" may be a'watchin.'

Life is like a beanstalk, isn't it? v.c.

P.S. One of my favorite books from Rowdy High was "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley.

P.S.S. What is integrity? We got bonus points for this one....And needless to say, I needed it bad, er, ly.

Integrity: Doing what you said you were going to do; when you said you were going to do it; and how you said you were going to do it.