Still having to go through the back door to post a column. Whenever I type in the destination ( G.P. ) an ominous message appears claiming the [ my ] site may contain drugs, pornography, etc. An adult site if you will.
I have no problems pulling up "Hootsbuddy's Place." Go figga. His blog contains forays concerning mayhem and violence. But because we're talking blood and guts, it's okay for me, the reader, to peruse his column. Once again-go figga.
I have lived out of a suitcase now for 6 weeks. Only 3 more to go, before I become an official manager for my company. And able to get back home. It's been quite the magical mystery tour.
Well, it's study time. Up here they don't call 'em tests but assessments. They are always coming up with new ploys. Wonder who thinks them up?
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Does anyone still read the Pond? Or am I writing to myself? A diary if you will. Once again-go figga!
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
"The Catfish Returneth" or "Old Brown Shoe"
Yours truly has been on somewhat of a sabbatical. Plus I am not privy to a laptop or my old computer which lays dormant in me mum's house. And which used to wreak of tobacco smoke until it aired out free of Sir Walter Raleigh inhalants.
On Monday I WAS privy to a stomach virus. It's the worst I've felt in a long time. Fever, nausea, aches and the inevitable discharges from the "sun don't shine" area. Even barfed once. But it was quick and to the point. Thank goodness.
All this was going on whilst on my way to Tennessee. For two more weeks of fun and games. I am not one who ever called out sick, but the poor boy ( yours truly ) missed two days. But it cost me. I must return in about 3 days to make up a class. Bummer, dude.
This is one of those nights where I'm struggling to write the prose, so it's time to bid a brief farewell and adieu.
Life is like a box of chocolates, v.c.
P.S. I did see the new flick which stars Halle Berry and Bruce Willis. Forget the name of it. ( see onset of old age ) Very clever whodoneit.
P.S.S. An old George Harrison tune which is fantastic. ( imho )
On Monday I WAS privy to a stomach virus. It's the worst I've felt in a long time. Fever, nausea, aches and the inevitable discharges from the "sun don't shine" area. Even barfed once. But it was quick and to the point. Thank goodness.
All this was going on whilst on my way to Tennessee. For two more weeks of fun and games. I am not one who ever called out sick, but the poor boy ( yours truly ) missed two days. But it cost me. I must return in about 3 days to make up a class. Bummer, dude.
This is one of those nights where I'm struggling to write the prose, so it's time to bid a brief farewell and adieu.
Life is like a box of chocolates, v.c.
P.S. I did see the new flick which stars Halle Berry and Bruce Willis. Forget the name of it. ( see onset of old age ) Very clever whodoneit.
P.S.S. An old George Harrison tune which is fantastic. ( imho )
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
"Saturday Night Fever"
Last nite I watched Saturday Night Fever. On TBS. I don't like watching "R" rated versions which have been reduced to PG or PG-13. And this one qualifies.
It seems they could say "shit" but couldn't say "bitch." Go figga. I am all for running an advisory before the movie airs:
"This is the original version. If you are prudish, have never head the "f" word, have never done the "f" word, or are under 12 years old, we, the station mgmt., strongly suggest your not viewing the following flick."
Anyway, here's one of the songs from said celluloid.
I should be dancing, v.c.
P.S. Staying alive. Well, just barely.
It seems they could say "shit" but couldn't say "bitch." Go figga. I am all for running an advisory before the movie airs:
"This is the original version. If you are prudish, have never head the "f" word, have never done the "f" word, or are under 12 years old, we, the station mgmt., strongly suggest your not viewing the following flick."
Anyway, here's one of the songs from said celluloid.
I should be dancing, v.c.
P.S. Staying alive. Well, just barely.
Monday, April 16, 2007
"Campus Massacre"
I would weigh in on the current tragedy, but it will be dissected thoroughly by every person in the media. It will be interesting to see who was behind the deadly deeds. And, of course, the administration is going to catch a lot of blame for not acting quickly.
Back when I was at "Truck U.," my old alma mater, crazed maniacs were the least of our worries. Even tho' there was the marine who fired bullets down on the University of Texas campus back in the mid-60's. And who was played by the venerable Kurt Russell in the movie about the tragic incident.
My class was more concerned about going to Nam and trying to get laid. Our hormones were on fire, and we wanted to quelch the flame.
It's a different world we live in today. My heart ges out to the families that will have to deal with the loss of loved ones. And the administration is going to be raked over the coals. Seems they handled the situation poorly. Sending out e mails of the impending danger ain't gonna cut it when you're driving your car or walking across the campus.
The facts will certainly unfold.
Gimme shelter, v.c.
P.S. 4 more days at work. Hopefully, no crazed gunman will venture into my establishment allah Luby's Cafeteria circa 1990's.
Back when I was at "Truck U.," my old alma mater, crazed maniacs were the least of our worries. Even tho' there was the marine who fired bullets down on the University of Texas campus back in the mid-60's. And who was played by the venerable Kurt Russell in the movie about the tragic incident.
My class was more concerned about going to Nam and trying to get laid. Our hormones were on fire, and we wanted to quelch the flame.
It's a different world we live in today. My heart ges out to the families that will have to deal with the loss of loved ones. And the administration is going to be raked over the coals. Seems they handled the situation poorly. Sending out e mails of the impending danger ain't gonna cut it when you're driving your car or walking across the campus.
The facts will certainly unfold.
Gimme shelter, v.c.
P.S. 4 more days at work. Hopefully, no crazed gunman will venture into my establishment allah Luby's Cafeteria circa 1990's.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
"In the Hall of the Mountain King"
I've got one more day to go. Then I'm off for one day. Work 4 more days. And it's back to Lebanon, Tenn. I have been out front the last few days. No more sweating-well, not really sweating cos I was dehydrated-and no more flour on me pants and shoes. At least I come home like a sharp dressed man.
It was funny today. My new company uses Piggly Wiggly white vinegar for something. Not sure what. Mebbe it's for the guests who want it on their salads or greens. Who knows? But there it was. P.W. white vinegar. My old d.m. would have had a hissy:
"V.C. Mr. Hamilton [ founder of the cafeteria chain ] put a lot of thought and love into our recipes. Don't bastardize what he did, son. Now throw that shit away and get me some Heinz in here with a quickness."
He also told me how he once saved one of the cook's life. One afternoon she fell into the deep fat fryer. Quick-witted, my d.m. pulled her out of harm's way. He ripped off her clothes and threw her into the ice bin until the 911 guys got there.
Ah, memories. But the clock on the wall says it's time to bid adieu. Yahoo! I've only got one more day to work this week.
All''s fair in love and war, v.c.
P.S. On a sad note, Randall Brooks passed away this week. Father to Randy, Paul, Patrick, and Mary Ann. I will get off early tomorrow, so I can attend the services.
It was funny today. My new company uses Piggly Wiggly white vinegar for something. Not sure what. Mebbe it's for the guests who want it on their salads or greens. Who knows? But there it was. P.W. white vinegar. My old d.m. would have had a hissy:
"V.C. Mr. Hamilton [ founder of the cafeteria chain ] put a lot of thought and love into our recipes. Don't bastardize what he did, son. Now throw that shit away and get me some Heinz in here with a quickness."
He also told me how he once saved one of the cook's life. One afternoon she fell into the deep fat fryer. Quick-witted, my d.m. pulled her out of harm's way. He ripped off her clothes and threw her into the ice bin until the 911 guys got there.
Ah, memories. But the clock on the wall says it's time to bid adieu. Yahoo! I've only got one more day to work this week.
All''s fair in love and war, v.c.
P.S. On a sad note, Randall Brooks passed away this week. Father to Randy, Paul, Patrick, and Mary Ann. I will get off early tomorrow, so I can attend the services.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
"Sharp Dressed Man" or "Premonition"
Tonite yours truly decided to engage himself to a movie. It is well-chronicled how the catfish loves the celluloid. I rushed home from the food biz, showered, and headed down the highway. Finding the theatre I had no idea what was playing or what I was gonna see, as I waited in line with a dozen others.
They had one cashier working, and the manager, dressed to the "nines" in a suit- undoubtedly from the "Men's Wear Outlet-" stood behind his charge with a "it's a tough job but somebody's got to do it" look on his face. He later sauntered off to nowhere, did a quick u-turn, all the time with his hand in his pocket.
I asked someone in line what some of the movies were about. Because I haven't been reading the paper lately and have only perused the headlines. ( see Don Imus per example and his 'nappy-headed hos' comment ) So I needed advice and quickly.
After listening to reviews about "Happy Feet," "Shooter," "300," "Meet the Robinsons," I decided on "Premonition" with Sandra Bullock.
It was pretty good but definitely bizarre. Filled with flashbacks; ( or were they? ) fast forwards; dream sequences; ( or were they? )until we got to the meat and potatoes where the flick wraps it up and deposits it on the viewers lap. Well done, by jove. But I was so tired from arising at 4 a.m. and working til 6 p.m., the old boy almost went to sleep before it was over. ( see double nickels for more info )
The old clock on the wall says it's time for one v.c. to get his fanny to bed. And don't forget to take the fork in the road, v.c.
P.S. I am always inspired when someone drops off a comment to G.P. So thanks go out to the bbq man who learned from me, yours truly, the virtues of half sweet and half unsweet tea. Mi amigo from the state down under. Where women glow and men plunder.
P.S.S The following song is dedicated to the manager at the Bijou.
They had one cashier working, and the manager, dressed to the "nines" in a suit- undoubtedly from the "Men's Wear Outlet-" stood behind his charge with a "it's a tough job but somebody's got to do it" look on his face. He later sauntered off to nowhere, did a quick u-turn, all the time with his hand in his pocket.
I asked someone in line what some of the movies were about. Because I haven't been reading the paper lately and have only perused the headlines. ( see Don Imus per example and his 'nappy-headed hos' comment ) So I needed advice and quickly.
After listening to reviews about "Happy Feet," "Shooter," "300," "Meet the Robinsons," I decided on "Premonition" with Sandra Bullock.
It was pretty good but definitely bizarre. Filled with flashbacks; ( or were they? ) fast forwards; dream sequences; ( or were they? )until we got to the meat and potatoes where the flick wraps it up and deposits it on the viewers lap. Well done, by jove. But I was so tired from arising at 4 a.m. and working til 6 p.m., the old boy almost went to sleep before it was over. ( see double nickels for more info )
The old clock on the wall says it's time for one v.c. to get his fanny to bed. And don't forget to take the fork in the road, v.c.
P.S. I am always inspired when someone drops off a comment to G.P. So thanks go out to the bbq man who learned from me, yours truly, the virtues of half sweet and half unsweet tea. Mi amigo from the state down under. Where women glow and men plunder.
P.S.S The following song is dedicated to the manager at the Bijou.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
"Yawn" or "I'm Only Sleeping"
It was another grueling week in the food biz. Standing on your feet all day and getting dirty from the flour for the biscuits and the dumplins'. Flour all over your shoes and pants. And then there were the usual problems. Billy Bob, the backup cook, was feeling lousy-he had been throwing up all day-and had to make a hasty retreat when yours truly came on borde.
I stepped up to the plate and ran his shift through the Easter breakfast and Easter afternoon. The recipes are easy-much easier than the ones at a semi-well known cafeteria chain. My new company claims it makes its food from scratch, but it ain't really. Let's just say semi-scratch.
When you add a dry mix and buttermilk to the biscuits, it ain't exactly scratch. Not like at the aforementioned cafeteria chain, where you had to add margarine the size of a pea until all the ingredients were mixed. As time wore on, however, we had gone the route of semi-scratch by purchasing Pilsbury throw-'em-in-the-pan biscuits. They were actually quite good, and I recall a customer, er, guest remarking it was the best biscuit he had ever eaten.
And yours truly can remember a time long gone, when me mum brandished her wooden rolling pin and made biscuits from well, er, scratch. Nothing semi there.
The dumplins' are kinda easy, too. But you have to be careful when you throw 'em into the seasoned water. They have a tendency of sticking together. The recipe says and I quote: "after dumping said dumplins' in boiling water, encourage them to separate by use of a spoon or spatula.' Hoots, Shirley, can appreciate the choice of words ( "encourage" ) and from now on will be referred to as a hootsism. ( coined today by yours truly )
The green beans are canned but are cooked for two hours. A big bag of ham seasoning is added, and we must cook them slowly to remove the hint of hootsism, er, cansism. Which validates once again the semi-scratch ideology.
At you-know-who's we had to follow a strict science with da green beans. They had to be a 3 sieve, Blue Lake, and from Oregon. No other bean would do. I forget the drain weight, but when a new batch came in from Oregon, the d.m. and the purveyor performed a ritualistic ceremony by opening a can and dumpling it into a sieve and weighing it on a scale. It was a thumbs-up or thumbs-down procedure, and if it wasn't right a call to Oregon was made with a quickness.
My company back in those days was anal and very strict about it's food. I once got busted by my d.m. for buying Colorado baked potatoes instead of Idahoan.
"Throw them gol darn potatoes in the dumpster outside and get me some Idaho potatoes in here with a quickness. What are you trying to do, v.c. Diminish the reputation of our company? Our founder is turning over in his grave, son."
He also busted me for using Piggly Wiggly brand white vinegar instead of Heinz.
"Throw that gol darn vinegar in the dumpster and get me some Heinz in here with a quickness.. What are you tryin' to do, v.c. Diminish the reputation of our company? Our founder...."
We even used the best spices at the cafeteria. White peppa from McCormick was something like $8.00 a lb. The most expensive item we had in the building except perhaps for the rum sauce, which cost like a thousand dollars a bottle. ( slight embellishment ) Then along came a new COO, Azam Malik, in the early days of the new millineum, and we switched to Sauers or Piggly Wiggly brand spices which were considerably cheaper.
My anal d.m. who was finnicky with the specs ( and rightfully so ) was turning over in his grave when Piggly Wiggly spices were substituted by the company. I doubt, though. that any customer could really have told the difference, because we didn't exactly know the meaning of words like simmer, fold gently, etc.
I remember telling my cooks a million times: "show me on the recipe where it says 'boil the hell out of the black-eye peas.' In fact, they were supposed to cook at a simmer of 200 degrees. Because: by boiling the hell out of 'em, it caused them to turn into mush. On the flip side, if you didn't cook 'em long enough they tasted like raw peanuts.
Well, my laundry is probably ready now, so I better go. I'm enjoying my new job. And my boss is becoming enamored with me. He should be. I have always been about quality and am good in ye old kitchen, as evidenced by me taking Billy Bob's place in the kitchen on Easter Sunday. Not to mention my work ethic.
Ah, the food biz, v.c.
P.S. Please don't wake me; no don't shake me; leave me where I am; I'm only sleeping. Yawn.
I stepped up to the plate and ran his shift through the Easter breakfast and Easter afternoon. The recipes are easy-much easier than the ones at a semi-well known cafeteria chain. My new company claims it makes its food from scratch, but it ain't really. Let's just say semi-scratch.
When you add a dry mix and buttermilk to the biscuits, it ain't exactly scratch. Not like at the aforementioned cafeteria chain, where you had to add margarine the size of a pea until all the ingredients were mixed. As time wore on, however, we had gone the route of semi-scratch by purchasing Pilsbury throw-'em-in-the-pan biscuits. They were actually quite good, and I recall a customer, er, guest remarking it was the best biscuit he had ever eaten.
And yours truly can remember a time long gone, when me mum brandished her wooden rolling pin and made biscuits from well, er, scratch. Nothing semi there.
The dumplins' are kinda easy, too. But you have to be careful when you throw 'em into the seasoned water. They have a tendency of sticking together. The recipe says and I quote: "after dumping said dumplins' in boiling water, encourage them to separate by use of a spoon or spatula.' Hoots, Shirley, can appreciate the choice of words ( "encourage" ) and from now on will be referred to as a hootsism. ( coined today by yours truly )
The green beans are canned but are cooked for two hours. A big bag of ham seasoning is added, and we must cook them slowly to remove the hint of hootsism, er, cansism. Which validates once again the semi-scratch ideology.
At you-know-who's we had to follow a strict science with da green beans. They had to be a 3 sieve, Blue Lake, and from Oregon. No other bean would do. I forget the drain weight, but when a new batch came in from Oregon, the d.m. and the purveyor performed a ritualistic ceremony by opening a can and dumpling it into a sieve and weighing it on a scale. It was a thumbs-up or thumbs-down procedure, and if it wasn't right a call to Oregon was made with a quickness.
My company back in those days was anal and very strict about it's food. I once got busted by my d.m. for buying Colorado baked potatoes instead of Idahoan.
"Throw them gol darn potatoes in the dumpster outside and get me some Idaho potatoes in here with a quickness. What are you trying to do, v.c. Diminish the reputation of our company? Our founder is turning over in his grave, son."
He also busted me for using Piggly Wiggly brand white vinegar instead of Heinz.
"Throw that gol darn vinegar in the dumpster and get me some Heinz in here with a quickness.. What are you tryin' to do, v.c. Diminish the reputation of our company? Our founder...."
We even used the best spices at the cafeteria. White peppa from McCormick was something like $8.00 a lb. The most expensive item we had in the building except perhaps for the rum sauce, which cost like a thousand dollars a bottle. ( slight embellishment ) Then along came a new COO, Azam Malik, in the early days of the new millineum, and we switched to Sauers or Piggly Wiggly brand spices which were considerably cheaper.
My anal d.m. who was finnicky with the specs ( and rightfully so ) was turning over in his grave when Piggly Wiggly spices were substituted by the company. I doubt, though. that any customer could really have told the difference, because we didn't exactly know the meaning of words like simmer, fold gently, etc.
I remember telling my cooks a million times: "show me on the recipe where it says 'boil the hell out of the black-eye peas.' In fact, they were supposed to cook at a simmer of 200 degrees. Because: by boiling the hell out of 'em, it caused them to turn into mush. On the flip side, if you didn't cook 'em long enough they tasted like raw peanuts.
Well, my laundry is probably ready now, so I better go. I'm enjoying my new job. And my boss is becoming enamored with me. He should be. I have always been about quality and am good in ye old kitchen, as evidenced by me taking Billy Bob's place in the kitchen on Easter Sunday. Not to mention my work ethic.
Ah, the food biz, v.c.
P.S. Please don't wake me; no don't shake me; leave me where I am; I'm only sleeping. Yawn.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
....continued
It's all good. Easter Sunday came and went and my boss wasn't happy. Sales weren't as he had envisioned. Even tho' we had a good day, he wanted more. But, alas, it was aster, and people are more into family excursions these days.
Me and my boss are starting to hit it off. He is more warm and fuzzy towards me. It's a nice feeling when someone recognizes your work. Tommy is still Tommy, however. He seems to always have a nasty disposition. C'est la vie, eh?
Tomorrow I go into work at 9 p.m. And get off at 6 a.m. Can anyone say disruptive schedule. Only in the food biz.
That's all for now, v.c.
P.S.
Me and my boss are starting to hit it off. He is more warm and fuzzy towards me. It's a nice feeling when someone recognizes your work. Tommy is still Tommy, however. He seems to always have a nasty disposition. C'est la vie, eh?
Tomorrow I go into work at 9 p.m. And get off at 6 a.m. Can anyone say disruptive schedule. Only in the food biz.
That's all for now, v.c.
P.S.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
"Die Hard"
Good to hear from you, mi amigo. The catfish is working hard as opposed to hardly working. But it's all good.
My training store does not allow smoking so I'm an "under packer" a day when I work, so perhaps it's my destiny, eh? You can't even smoke on the property.
I innocently reported to work one day last week smoking a "before I begin work" smoke and was chastised by my boss. They mean buisness, a zero tolerance if you will. He even suggested I buy a patch pronto as he had done. 3 years ago and 50 pounds heavier. Been there, done that.
Good to know someone still reads the Pond. Take care, mi amigo
I'd rather fight than switch, v.c.
P.S. Apologies to Tareyton
P.S.S. Seems a new "Die Hard" movie will be out this summer. Should be good. Here's the trailer.
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My training store does not allow smoking so I'm an "under packer" a day when I work, so perhaps it's my destiny, eh? You can't even smoke on the property.
I innocently reported to work one day last week smoking a "before I begin work" smoke and was chastised by my boss. They mean buisness, a zero tolerance if you will. He even suggested I buy a patch pronto as he had done. 3 years ago and 50 pounds heavier. Been there, done that.
Good to know someone still reads the Pond. Take care, mi amigo
I'd rather fight than switch, v.c.
P.S. Apologies to Tareyton
P.S.S. Seems a new "Die Hard" movie will be out this summer. Should be good. Here's the trailer.
">
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
"You Can'T Overserve the Okra"
Seems it's been a week since my last journal entry. I just haven't had the time. Studying, working, and tying up loose ends have left the boy ( yours truly ) no time to write "G.P."
My new work environs are laced with managers who all hail from other food biz locations. Applebee's for one; Krystal Hamburgers for another. The latter mgr. is 52 years old, and the other day hollered at me saying "don't worry about the food cost; you can't overserve the okra, fill 'er up!"
I guess I was moving too slow but I was grappling with the okra which was under a heat lamp. A few minutes later he admonished me by saying: "that's too much corn [ in the serving spoon ] shake some off."
I'm not exactly a rookie when it comes to serving the two aforementioned veggies, and I know, without equivocation, I have served more corn and okra to my guests than "Carter has liver pills." And more of the two than Tommy has sold those little squared burgers.
I really resented these intrusions, but because I haven't been too lucky in the employment arena lately, I let it slide. But I didn't like his vocal intonations. I harken back to employees ( team members ) who routinely said of mgrs: "he/she don't know how to talk to people."
And, Shirley, I have been guilty of such blunders as well, especially when the shoe was on the other foot.
All that being said, I worked the egg grill on Sunday. And handled it by myself, I might add. My G.M. was beaming and said he was impressed. Another mgr. applauded my composure, work ethic and stamina.
The manager who barked out instructions for serving veggies never said a word. That's life in the big city, eh?
Well, that's where I've been. I don't want the Pond to disappear.
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Today is my second day off this week. Ah, life's little pleasures.
My new work environs are laced with managers who all hail from other food biz locations. Applebee's for one; Krystal Hamburgers for another. The latter mgr. is 52 years old, and the other day hollered at me saying "don't worry about the food cost; you can't overserve the okra, fill 'er up!"
I guess I was moving too slow but I was grappling with the okra which was under a heat lamp. A few minutes later he admonished me by saying: "that's too much corn [ in the serving spoon ] shake some off."
I'm not exactly a rookie when it comes to serving the two aforementioned veggies, and I know, without equivocation, I have served more corn and okra to my guests than "Carter has liver pills." And more of the two than Tommy has sold those little squared burgers.
I really resented these intrusions, but because I haven't been too lucky in the employment arena lately, I let it slide. But I didn't like his vocal intonations. I harken back to employees ( team members ) who routinely said of mgrs: "he/she don't know how to talk to people."
And, Shirley, I have been guilty of such blunders as well, especially when the shoe was on the other foot.
All that being said, I worked the egg grill on Sunday. And handled it by myself, I might add. My G.M. was beaming and said he was impressed. Another mgr. applauded my composure, work ethic and stamina.
The manager who barked out instructions for serving veggies never said a word. That's life in the big city, eh?
Well, that's where I've been. I don't want the Pond to disappear.
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Today is my second day off this week. Ah, life's little pleasures.
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