Hardees Chronicles, Part III

I was scheduled to be "host" on my last day of work. That meant you would spend your shift refilling drinks and condiments.

In dress clothes.

It was like being knighted by a store manager. (I'm sure there are scores of others who feel like royalty as they roam from table to table with two pots of coffee -- "Hast thou regular or decaf?!")

Anyway, I left my scarecrow-colored polyester uniform at home and drove down for my last shift.

The only catch was that if someone knew it was your last day, they would dump a bucket of ice water over your head.

Not only that, but college orientation was the next day, so I had to book it three hundred miles that night. There would be no time for this knight to dry off. He would have to ride in wet dress clothes.

Luckily I was a skilled liar, so when the manager approached me to ask if this was indeed my last day, I replied, "Oh, no, that's tomorrow."


It worked.


And I never saw them again, ever. Because now it's a liquor store.

The eight other most likely faces of me

Not bad, except what the hell is up with Einstein?

Trolling at the lake

Science Club Trip to Idaho, 1985

Rumor has it that the horse stepped on dad's foot moments before this picture was taken.

Vacation at the lake

Then...


...and now

Twenty Years Ago

Untitled

At first I wondered what she was thinking, then I realized I should know better.

Memorial weekend 2007

This is the view from the dock of our lake cabin. The wind sketches across the water in the distance.





Closer to shore






Brother preparing to ski

Happy Blue Moon

Full moon's twin bathes our
imaginations blue, a
beautiful white lie

Hardee's Chronicles, Part II

My friend and I were sitting in a booth at Hardee's drinking Coke. We didn't have enough money for anything else. The store manager came up to us with a tray of french fries and asked if we wanted some. Several nanoseconds later we accepted his offer. He set the whole tray down and went back to work.

Aaand, roll credits.

Hardee's Chronicles, Part I

In 1985 a Hardee's opened in my hometown of about 4,000 people. I didn't bother telling mom and dad I wanted to go. It was a forgone conclusion. A sign that popular in a town that small would eventually attract everybody. The bright orange sign might as well have said "This way to the outside world." It was a status symbol, at least in that little corner of the US. I would be able to say that I saw people I knew, eating at a Hardees.

And our store was unique. It boasted a train theme, in honor of the town's origin. There were train pictures, train memorabilia, and a wall border with an old-fashioned train design.

At first I was awestruck at having a nationally familiar store in our town.

Hardee's sold plastic goblets that could hold a quart of the new Cherry Coke, and twisty cones with spiralling towers of ice cream that could feed three and were served with a tiny sheet of wax paper wrapped around the little cone, increasing the chance that it would slip from your hand.

Behind the counter, unapologetically big burgers accented with lettuce and buns slid down metal chutes like cattle fodder, boxed in styrofoam that would puff up big sacks of garbage scented with ketchup and cigarettes.

Salads were condiments.

There were padded wooden booths and greasy brass handrails. Tinfoil ashtrays, some already full, were on half of the tables in the store. The floor seemed slippery, like someone had washed it with oil.

Employees in orange and brown polyester would walk around with water bottles and swipe wet rags across tables. They always looked too oily to be cleaning something else.

The drive-thru had only one window, where one employee would talk to one customer, into a microphone, mounted to the cash register.

There was no nutritional information.

There was no fruit.

I never heard anyone question anything.

Those were the real days of fast food.

My phone conversation with Poppy

Here is my first phone call from Poppy, as she and mommy were driving home. I had just walked in the door.

Me: Hello? (silence) ...hello?
Poppy: Hi.
Me: Who's this?
Poppy: Poppy.
Me: Oh, hi! How's it going?
Poppy: I'm gonna get the orange bike.
Me: Oh, ok.
Poppy: The one with bees and butterflies.
Me: Well that's good...
Poppy: Are you at home right now?
Me: Yes.
Poppy: Did you beat us?
Me: Well, I thought you'd be here. I wasn't racing you...
Poppy: Why did you do that?
Me: Uh, I don't know. Sorry. Where are you?
Poppy (pointing to house): Right there. (sound of garage door opening)

Our talk continued even as she came in the door and stood right in front of me.

I'll probably miss this when she's a teenager.

The hazards of Extreme Belting

Aloha

Here's a photo of the play I'm in, called Nurse Jane Goes to Hawaii. The story is about Vivien, a romance novelist whose next opus is created around the events unfolding before her. And trust me, that's the easiest explanation there is.


And now, the cast of characters.

From top left:

Bill: married to Betty; had a daughter with Doris
Doris: married to Edgar
Edgar (me): married to Doris; had a son with Betty
Betty: married to Bill; Vivien's editor

From bottom left:

Peggy: Bill and Doris' daughter
Peter: Edgar and Betty's son
Vivien: romance novelist

Sorry.

Area man kicks chair, wall

Editor's Note: For those of you who do not know me, the following story is an exaggeration of the truth. Not the fortune cookie, though. That actually happened.

Area man John's Brain, distraught by a shortened lunch hour and a poor selection of dining options, turned and kicked a nearby chair earlier today when he became disillusioned by a fortune cookie which contained no fortune.

Although details are sketchy, it is alleged that the kicked-upon objects also included a nearby wall.

"Oh, this is rich," Brain said. "I'm loving this."

The day up to that point, Brain recalled, had sucked. "I was already in a bad mood when this crapload of work came in," he began, "and we decided to cut our lunch hour in half. Of course I didn't bring mine, so I had to go running off like a lunchless moron."

"I just wanted some soup," he continued. Then, wagging a finger and shaking his head, he explained, "But they always have to make it difficult, don't they."

It was unclear if Brain was actually asking a question.

Although he reported finding several places in the vicinity which offered soup, the only choices available were split pea or a "nauseating cajun broth that smelled like a decomposing forest."

"I mean come on, don't try so hard," he exclaimed, motioning to nothing in particular. "I had to book it three blocks to the next cafeteria, and guess what?" After a short pause for effect, he added slowly, "Split puke and wood rot."

Brain ultimately decided on chicken stir fry, accompanied with a free fortune cookie. "I figured 'What the hell, if the gods are going to mock me, I might as well know the joke,'" he mused.

The resulting irony of being denied even a false fortune led to the kicking incident. When asked to comment further, Brain suddenly appeared to grow disinterested with the interview before slumping into his chair to resume his duties.

This afternoon we went to Herbergers, where I spent $90 on a $90 pair of shoes that cost $90. The shoes, which cost me $90, were not on sale. I went to the cashier, told her I would like to buy these shoes for $90, and was charged the full $90 retail price for the shoes.

The price of the shoes -- which was $90 -- was paid in full. I agreed to pay the whole amount of the non-negotiable price advertised for the shoes.

The shoes which cost $90.

The Universe Explained in Six Words

holy crap this place is huge

Reasons to have lunch on Saturn

1. Rings make the most awesome park bench ever

2. I'm 800,000,000 miles from the nearest office appliance

3. View of Jupiter beats the crap out of looking at photos in break room

4. 56 freakin' moons!

5. Estimated time of return, via car at 60 mph: 7,607 AD

6. Skip stones across atmosphere

7. Moon the Cassini orbiter and then blame Titan

8. Finally a reason to walk around in a space suit

9. No pollen allergies

10. Can't hear people's annoying ring tones

11. No elevator crowded with people also going to Saturn for lunch

Feel free to add your own reasons!

I recently read about a scientific discovery that claims our brains are plastic. Not the kind of plastic that dad complains about, but neuroplastic.

Traditional thinking asserts that our brains become wired when we're young and all the neurons and synapses and dendrites set like cement, eventually turning us all into stiff, angry, old people.

The idea itself is not that new. There are books out there that tell you how to train your brain and keep it active and all that, but the book I saw -- I can't remember the title at the moment -- says our brains can be physically altered by how we choose to think well into our adult lives. We can change it.

I've always suspected it, but of course I'm a genius.

A few weeks before I read about it, I was at work. It was a slow day and I was thinking how cool it would be if ninjas came cartwheeling down the hall and I heroically saved everyone I liked, while a select few got a Chinese throwing star to the forehead. The reason it's safe to think that is because ninjas will never have a reason to infiltrate a work area that touts paper cuts as its number one hazard.

Long story short, I decided to try an experiment. Every time I felt the boredom coming on I would tell myself that I was happy by thinking of good memories. Soon I was flooding my brain every five minutes with surges of happy neurons. (Yes, the job is that boring. Not every ten minutes. Every five.)

So in conclusion, our brains are plastic and you can make them happy if you want. Isn't that the best news ever? Now everyone go flood your brains.

To help you with ideas, here is a short list of memories John used in his experiment

1. On the road to Spicer in the Nature Wagon in July with no air conditioner
2. Trip to South Dakota in the Nature Wagon in July with no air conditioner
3. Looking for agates at Camp Cuyuna
4. Eating ice cream and watching Friday Night Videos
5. Making home movies with a gigantic video camera

Happy wiring!