Timber Path Construction Update...

What with it being Good Friday and all, I needed to get my wife to a source of fish without having to cast a rod so to speak or drive very far. So we took part in the Bill Miller's Lenten Special and went through the drive-thru. Of course, since the fish is cooked to order, they pulled us to the side and that gave me chance to jump out of the truck for a few happy snaps at the intersection of Grissom and Timber Path, and an opportunity for one of my infrequent Timber Path Construction Updates.So, is it me, or has the work come to a screeching halt?I love the road that goes about 50 feet, then stops. I can only assume that there is some explanation for this.

Drive-in Movie Report: Well, Outdoors Anyway...

Okay, are we the only people who actually had the air conditioner running the day after Christmas? I'm not complaining, mind you. I prefer the need to run the AC to cool the place down versus the need to run the heater. I have no qualms about the image of Santa being a fat guy in Bermuda shorts.

And because the weather cooperated, we finally got to make use of my wife's favorite little Christmas present, the Torpedo Dark Room Projector. She has been wanting one of these things for a while and I just kept thinking it would probably be a real waste of money. But, without going into great detail, we tracked one down at Super Target and the box had clearly been opened (a bad sign to me) and the audio cable was missing. Long story short, they sell on E-Bay for as much as $150, we paid $85 at your friendly Super Target.

Now don't get all giddy thinking that you can purchase one of these Torpedo projectors and hook it up as your new 70" wide screen television in your home theater. It is actually a toy for kids (yes, you get it in the toy department), and I'm not quite sure what the life expectancy will be for the bulb. Also, when they say "dark room", they aren't kidding. The day we bought it, we went into a bedroom, aimed it at the white wall and connected it to a DVD player. It wasn't that great at all because even with the curtains shut, it was still somewhat light outside. I just don't want anybody to get any ideas of avoiding the cost of your huge wide screen TV thinking that you'll buy one of these and invite the neighborhood over for the Superbowl.But my wife had a different idea, and last night we enjoyed our first "drive-in movie night" out on our new deck. We put a white sheet over the railing of the upper deck in order to create a screen and set the projector on a box on the new deck. Instead of using the sound that is built into the projector (it really does sound like an old drive-in) we connected it to the sound system I purchased for my laptop. Awesome!

If you ever recall going to the Mission Drive-in when it was still open (or any drive-in for that matter), there is something different about watching a movie and feeling the slight breeze, hearing the sound of something off in the distance that isn't part of the movie, and occasionally looking up and seeing the stars. It just isn't the same experience as inside a movie theater with obnoxious teens chatting or texting on cell phones or an unruly brat kicking the back of your seat.

We did have one minor irritant; somebody down the street from us must have been having a party because they had on a really crappy boom box turned on pretty high. During quiet parts of the movie we could occasionally hear the high pitched sound of a crackly speaker (not unlike a drive-in movie) tuned to KZEP or maybe KONO. But I guess it would have been rude of me to crank-up the volume on our little sound system to play stereo wars. I would have surely won the battle, but other neighbors may not have enjoyed all the squeaks and beeps and whizzing sounds of Wall-e in full Dolby quality.

Just like the drive-in experience, my daughter brought us some Bill Miller chopped sandwiches, fries and a bucket of iced-tea for us to eat while enjoying the movie. That was always one of my favorite things about packing up the kids to go to the Mission. We would take an ice chest full of beverages and lots of snacks to munch on, though I do recall always going to the snack bar for some pop-corn or maybe a hot dog.

Anyway, I'm not sure how often we'll enjoy a movie on the deck, but it was a nice way to spend a mild winter evening with a slight breeze. And when we were done, we didn't have to wait in along line of cars to get out of the place - we just got up and walked inside. Into the air conditioned house.

I'm Not a Happy Camper Report:

A few years ago, I used to frequent my local San Antonio version of Craig's List in the Rants and Raves section. The idea was, you could Rant or Rave about whatever, and it was a great release. I recall writing a long entry about a visit to a McDonald's and all of the characters I encountered while attempting to obtain a simple breakfast. It was very well received by the participants of R&R at the time, but not quite a Best Of. Interestingly enough, there is only one person from San Antonio to ever make CL's Best Of list, and that honor belongs to a friend of mine. I shan't provide a link, but you could probably find it if you looked.

Anyway, this isn't about Craig's List. In fact, I stopped frequenting the place because the San Antonio R&R turned into a racist, homophobic, anti-W, anti-Republican, anti-Black, anti-Mexican, anti-White, anti-Conservative, anti-Obama or Hillary or McCain, and anti-Mature forum for what amounted to a bunch of internet hooligans, or in my mind, the equivalent of taggers, but with less creativity.

But I do need to rant for just a moment and I hope you won't mind me taking a jaunt from my usual discussions of neighborhood watch meetings and restaurant reviews to just tell you a few things about my day.

San Antonio is a furnace this time of year, and it hasn't even gotten hot yet. Seriously, talk to me in August if you think a June day of 98 degrees makes you sweat in places you didn't know you could sweat from. If you aren't used to this, you may want to wear diapers.So my mother-in-law lives in an older home without central A/C. She has roughly 5 or 6 window units placed strategically throughout her home to allow the place to be habitable. The most important one, the one in the kitchen that serves the dining room as well, simply went Tango Uniform which resulted in a call to my office today. Need to obtain new unit and install ASAP!

I suggested that my wife run to the Home Depot near our house and grab a new unit, then I'd come home from work, change clothes and we would extract the old one, and insert the new one. My wife grabbed her Mom's Visa, went to the Home Depot and found that the particular unit advertised in the flyer, a 15,000 BTU, 110V unit was not available. No problem says the expert working the area where the A/C's are located. Take this 18,000 BTU 208/230V unit. The one with the funny plug.

My wife is no stranger to appliances or electricity and she asked Mr. H. Depot if the 18,000 BTU unit would run on a 110 circuit. Sure it will, he reported, just purchase this new electrical outlet with the horizontal look, and you can plug it right in. So my wife asked him again if he was sure. And, he was genuinely sure.

So, we both get home about the same time, me switching into my shorts and my wife pulling into the driveway with an A/C unit ready for a window with a 220V plug, in the back of her truck and I say, "What dumbass told you this would work?" And she pointed to the guy at Home Depot.

So in the back of my mind, I'm thinking this is an honest mistake. Maybe the guy misunderstood her electrical requirements, the question about the funny plug and the difference between 110 and 220.

We go back to Home Depot, get credit on my mother-in-law's Visa for over $300 dollars, then proceed to the A/C section. My wife points out the dumbass manning the position, providing insight to customers such as, "To check for electricity in your sockets, insert a butter knife into the holes."

Wait, that's what I told my kids when they were little. (Happy Father's day).

My wife begins to verbally abuse this guy for being a total retard and he commences to tell her that, all you have to do is swap out the outlet, and it will work. Yea, part of it may work, dumbass.

Look, I'm not an electrician and I didn't stay at Holiday Inn Express last night, but I have done a little wiring in my time. Hell, just yesterday, I replaced the triple A battery on the igniter switch to my gas grill. I'm sure that Home Depot sent this genius to a few classes in order to sell boxes full of A/C units to unsuspecting people that didn't make it beyond the Electrical Engineering Merit Badge in Cub Scouts, without having Grandma singe the curtains on her new window unit. Neither of us are experts, but I am pretty confident that Bob Vila would have simply called in Norm Abrahm on this deal, and the two of them would have bitched slapped A/C boy into next week.

I on the other hand, asked him to explain to me how he could extract the required 220 from the 110 wire, simply by changing the outlet receptacle. He then explained in great detail that I simply needed to have the proper gauge wire. And I could check the wire gauge by connecting a voltage meter to it. WTF?

Can somebody please contact the Home and Garden TV police? I seriously nearly burst a vessel. Am I on crack or is not the gauge of the wire pretty much the thickness? Yes, you need a thicker gauge of wire to handle 220 versus 110, but don't you need some more voltage or amps or something coming into the outlet in question, along with the thicker wire?

Okay, so we left the 1604 and Culebra Home Depot and went to the one closer to my mother-in-law's house by 151 and Loop 410. We go in, grab the 15,000 BTU unit and head to the check-out. My wife swipes her mother's Visa and the alarm sounds and the lady at the register asks for her ID. My wife then explains that the card is her mother's and presents the receipt from the other Home Depot and asks why they never asked for any ID at the one by our house? The lady didn't have an answer, but to her credit (no pun intended), she would not accept the card.I busted out my card, bought the A/C and am happy to let my wife and her mom figure out the details.

Okay: So I love Home Depot, but seriously - this was not a banner day for the one by my house. Oh, turns out they are building a Lowes, just across the street in Alamo Ranch. Think about it.

Okay, I don't mean to be a whiner here, but on the way home, we decided to stop at the KFC by my house. We get into line in the drive-thru behind this guy in a car that seriously would make Al Gore film a movie. The car was blowing out white smoke like like it was the opening to a Foghat concert or something.So we wait in line behind this eco-terrorist (or maybe, anti-eco-terrorist, who knows?) and the people at KFC simply never take our order, and the line ain't moving. After more than five minutes, I finally told my wife I had a hankering for Bill Millers, and we exited the drive-thru line.

Minutes later, we pull into my neighborhood, and sure enough, the white-cloud producing car is only a few car lengths in front of us and turns out he lives only a street or two over from us. Nice. No wonder my yard is turning brown.

So there you have it. I'm all Ranted out. What pissed you off today? Tell me about it.

Lunch Report: Rib House...

A co-worker asked me last week if I had ever heard of the Rib House. Ever heard of it? I love the Rib House, I just hadn't been there in quite some time, even though my wife taunts me with tales of good eats every time her and her mom stop by for some of their famous ribs. The idea was in my head and by Friday, it was a done deal, we had to get over to the Rib House so I could get some of their catfish.

I know that sounds odd, but having never tried the catfish before, I had this big plan to get some!

This restaurant is located just north of what is now Port San Antonio, formerly Kelly AFB, on Old Highway 90. If for some reason you look at the Google Map and it has the place located in Castroville, just ignore it. The address is 757 Old Hiway 90 just west of 36th Street. If you can't see or feel a big C-5 flying over head, you aren't there.

So we get there right at opening and commence to inspect the menu. I have to confess, I had this sudden unsettling idea that if I had the catfish, I was missing the entire point of going to the Rib House. I mean, they don't call it the Catfish House, right? And this is why I have problems at restaurants. Too many options is a recipe for disaster.

There were three of us in our group and after serving us our tea, it was time to actually place the food orders. I opted to go last hoping that in the remaining few seconds, I could make my mind focus on the benifits of catfish over ribs.The first guy ordered the two meat lunch - beef ribs and pork ribs and for sides, yams and fried okra.The second guy went with the brisket (which I have had many times before - delicious) and green beans and Cole slaw.

It was suddenly go time for me. I had the sides down for sure. I was going with the green beans and potato salad. As soon as I was about to say catfish, my mind made some sort of left turn at Albuquerque and my mouth announced, "two meats, beef and pork", all on its own. As the guy left, I almost felt like I was having an out of body experience because I really had catfish on my mind. Really.But I was not disappointed at all. First, I am a huge fan of Bill Millers green beans. I love them and would eat them daily. The green beans at the Rib House do not have the same pica-factor (they aren't spicy hot), but they have a great home made flavor that I truly enjoy. Order them and you will agree. The potato salad is good - I wouldn't turn it away and I surely licked my plate clean. The ribs are simply to die for and I don't mean maybe. I like the beef and the pork. One of our group said that he liked the beef a little more than the pork but followed that with, "It was like the difference between an A and an A+". Hard to go wrong with that.

No offense to the fine people at Tony Roma's (I haven't been in years), but the Rib House puts them to shame. Shame, as in give me back the hundreds and hundreds of dollars I spent there over the years thinking I was eating "The Best".Now, before you gather up the entire family reunion or want to take your seventy nearest neighbors over for a little feast, you have to understand that there are some limitations. First, there is no parking to speak of. Second, the restaurant itself is not very big. I don't know how many they can hold, but it can't be more than 30 at a time. Having said that though, you can get it to go.But if you have a small group of 4 to 10, I'd say they would be able to hook you up, just get there early.

So as soon as I got back to work, I whined over and over to my friends that I should have gotten the catfish. I'm guessing there is going to be another trip in the near future.Bottom line: Tasty Treats. If you even think you like ribs and you don't try this place, you are missing out. Say Howdy to Miss Taylor - she'll be there waiting for you.

Dinner Report: Bill Miller's, Germs, and Washing Hands...

I don't think I have actually ever done a report on eating at Bill Miller's, but I may have mentioned the fact that I enjoy it quite a bit. Make no mistake, I think Bill Miller's is a San Antonio institution, and even if you can find better brisket or a better piece of fried chicken somewhere else, I'd say it is hard to find a place that is consistent from one side of town to the next like our friend Bill.

So tonight when my wife reported that she had already had a late lunch with our daughter, I decided I would take a short trip down the street and grab one of my favorites, the Baked Potato and Salad special. I think the price is $3.89 and you get a baked potato, and ... well, a salad. But the baked potato is big and it comes with a cup full of bacon bits, sour cream, cheese, and butter. I'm telling you, if there are any health benefits from eating a baked potato, they are surely lost when I pile on the entire bowl of fixin's. The salad is always good.

And tonight was no different. I ordered the aforementioned vittles and as usual, I got myself an unsweetened iced tea. And this is what I'd like to talk about.

At least a month or so ago, I had a tiny little infection in my eye and as we all know, these things get spread when you don't wash your hands. I'd like to think I'm a fairly clean person, but in light of the situation, my wife armed me with bottles of Purell and gave me Clorox towelettes to take to work to wipe things down. My wife used to be one of those certified food handling specialists, so you can imagine she is pretty up on trying to keep things sanitary.

Since the eye infection, I think I have become obsessed with this issue and even now more than ever, feel the urge to compulsively rub Purell on my hands. But it gets worse. I have always been more than a bit creeped-out by hotel rooms and all the disturbing germs that the previous occupants leave behind, but I try to put it out of my mind. I have found that your best bet for a good night's sleep in a hotel is to wipe down things with Clorox wipes, slather Purell over the remote control and the phone, and lubricate yourself internally with enough beer that whatever you ingest while breathing at night, it will be killed by the time it hits your stomach. I haven't died yet.

So, recently, I have decided that when I go to restaurants, I am really interested in what the people do with their hands and hair and faces and clothing while they are making my food. Forget some guy spitting on my burger - at least he can get fired for that, so he is less likely to do it. I know; not really, but humor me. I'm just worried about some guy going to take a dump, not adhering to the clearly posted sign in the bathroom ordering him to wash up, and coming back and fondling my plastic spoon.

So today, as I was waiting for my baked potato and salad and unsweetened iced tea, I casually observed the smooth operation of Bill Miller's staff as they easily handled a rush of dinner time patrons, I noticed two shorter employees emptying the big bucket of tea from one of those 5-gallon paint buckets into the tea dispenser. I don't think it occurred to them that because they were shorter, when they gripped the inside rim of the bucket and tilted it, my freshly brewed unsweetened tea was going to casually graze their fingers up to the knuckles.

And then, I started to look at the girl gathering up some cups for tea. Why bother to use a scoop to scoop up the ice into the cup if you are holding the cup with your fingers on the inside? I mean seriously, why not just reach your hand into the bucket, grab some cubes and throw them in the cup? Oh, and while you are at it, since you have already soiled my cup, no need to handle the drink lid by the edges, I'm happy to have your thumb prints on the inside of the lid. Perhaps the medical examiner will be able to identify you when they do a CSI of my dinner table.

I don't mean to pick on Bill Miller's because, like I say, the food is great, it is consistent and my baked potato and salad was outstanding - Tasty Treats all around, but in light of the fact that there is a crazy nationwide outbreak of this hard to kill bacteria, do you think we could ask our food service workers and especially hospital workers to bust out an occasional Purell dispenser and use it?

A few of the blogs that I often read have noted the recent passing of a blogger called Dr . Syn. I wasn't really familiar with him, but his story is an incredible reminder to us all to be mindful of these germs. You can read about him here, but the gist of it is that the poor guy ran into a door, gave himself one heck of a black eye and ended up in the hospital. It became infected to the point that they had to remove his eye. This is no Halloween joke. After that, the infection was so bad they had to put him into a coma, and shortly after, he died of a heart attack. Poor guy.

So, Bill Millers doesn't get blamed for the death of Dr. Syn, but for heavens sake, let's be mindful of the fact that these germs are often passed from one person to the next, simply because they forgot to wash their hands.

Enjoy your dinner and enjoy all that candy that strangers are passing out to your kids tonight. I'd recommend you use some Clorox wipes on the wrappers and perhaps eat each piece of candy with a shot of tequila.

Dinner Report: Grady's BBQ

Ever since our visit to the Tip Top Cafe last weekend, my wife has been regretting the fact that she had a cheeseburger instead of the signature Chicken Fried Steak. I could tell that she had a hankerin' for it when I noticed a huge pull-out from the newspaper with a life-sized photo of a chicken fried steak, complete with gravy staring up at me on my desk for several days.

This afternoon, she called me at work and asked how quickly I could get home because she could stand it no more; we would have to hit Grady's on Bandera Road pronto, PDQ and then some.

Just a word about Grady's as opposed to Rudy's. I find that people are either Grady's people or Rudy's people. I'm a Grady's person. I get the whole thing about Rudy's - you know, served on butcher paper, a little boat of cream corn, maybe a half pound of this, a half pound of that, half a chicken and some sauce. I get it. I just don't care for it as much as other people seem to.

Don't get me wrong - if someone is having a luncheon there, I'll go and enjoy it. But if there was a Grady's and a Rudy's right next door to each other, I'd be in Grady's.

Of course that might be rude if the luncheon was being held next door in Rudy's, but I think you get the point.

Oh. And I have also found that people who like Rudy's don't usually appreciate the brilliance of Bill Miller's. I'm not about to come out and say that Bill Miller's is the best BBQ ever made, because that would be a joke. But the fact that you can get good, consistent food in a fast-food format is awesome. People who like Grady's seem to appreciate that about Bill Miller's.

If you want some really good BBQ, I'm telling you, you have to head north up 281 beyond Mineral Wells (or there abouts - I haven't been able to find any reference to this place on the Internet to confirm the address or town) called Hashknife on the Chisholm. That, my friends, is some good eats.

So, my wife ordered up the chicken fried steak with corn and mashed potatoes. She was so excited she nearly did a jig! - I'm kidding, honey, really. Grady's gets you in the eatin' mood when you walk in. They give you your tea, point you in the direction of all the fixin's like onions and pickles and such, and just about the time you sit down, here it comes.

I ordered up the catfish along with some green beans coleslaw and an onion ring or two. I have to tell you, I love me some catfish and as a general rule, Clear Spring Catfish Cafe between New Braunfels and Seguin is wonderful although the one in San Antonio at Afton Oaks is not bad either. But if you can't make it there, the breading on the catfish at Grady's is done just right for me. Not too crisp so as to make me chip a tooth, but not too soft wear it falls off the fish before you can take a second bite.

I have to report, I wolfed down my green beans, took a bite of slaw, then couldn't hold back anymore and unleashed myself on the fish. My wife made several attempts at offering me a bite of her chicken fried steak, but seriously, I was in an embarrassing frenzy of consumption and had she stuck a fork full of the golden brown delight in my general direction, she may have lost a finger or two.

Grady's gets a solid 3.5 TT's on my Tasty Treat Scale, only lowered because my green beans contained foreign objects - corn I believe. That is UNSAT my friends. Never ruin good green beans with corn. But the catfish was a solid 5 TTs! Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm.

For those concerned, I promptly came home, swapped into my gym clothes and hit the treadmill for a suitable period of time. And I did not throw-up once!

Supper Report: KFC

I don’t enjoy fast food, especially eating it at the fast food restaurant where the employees, who have probably placed boogers or worse in your unhealthy food, can sit there and watch you eat it. But, I must confess that since I had not taken my bride out for a proper Mother’s day dinner, it was only fair that we drop a few dollars for some of the new, more healthy, zero-trans-fat KFC. I can literally feel myself getting healthier as I write this.

I am happy to tell you that our food was hot, fresh, and not greasy at all, there were no signs of the aforementioned nasal elimination and in fact, having not eaten at the Colonel’s in some time, I was more than pleased. A bit pricey if you must know the truth, but only the best for my wife. Especially since she got paid today.

As we walked from table to table looking for a reasonably clean booth to sit at, I recognized a family from down the street. The father and I gave that knowing nod to one another that says, “We’ve never met, but we have nodded at one another before.” Everyone in Silver Creek is so friendly.

My wife had collected some napkins and Sporks, (actually, they no longer have Sporks – now they have actual plastic forks and plastic knives, but no spoons for some reason) and we gave our table a quick wipe-down while we waited for our number to be called.

The service was very quick and in no time at all, I was wolfing down some Original Recipe (minus the trans-fat of course), and life was good. The baked beans were steaming hot and had a unique but excellent taste to them and though nobody’s green beans can compare to Bill Miller’s, these were suitable enough to warrant a “Tasty Treat” from me, though not a fully enthusiastic one.

I try not to pay attention to what other people around me do while they enjoy their meals. I mean, if a person insists on talking on the cell phone, as long as they don’t talk with a fake British/Aussie accent, I’m cool with it. So, this weird guy walks into the KFC carrying a boom box with it turned on for all to hear. A boom box! WTF? Is this the 80’s? I mean; did this guy not get the memo? Hello? Can you say iPod?

So my wife has never met a stranger and she will talk to anyone even without formally being introduced. So naturally, she looked over at the “Boom Box Guy” whom it turns out has sat himself down directly behind this family from down the street, and she say’s loud enough for everyone in the place to take notice, “You have got to be shitting me!” Thank God we weren’t at some fancy place like the Magnolia Pancake Haus.

So as it turns out, Boom Box Guy got the hint and cranked down the volume just enough so as to be no more distracting than MuZak, and we finished our dinner to the fading in and out of some radio station that couldn’t seem to tune in all the way. Good times.