Finally, after weeks of promising we would, my wife and I went to the resurrected Ethiopian restaurant not far from our home. I say resurrected because a restaurant by the same name (Queen of Sheba) and owned by the same couple closed a few years ago...we learned that unhappy fact when we drove to downtown Dallas to have an Ethiopian dinner, only to find the place shuttered. But it's back, and just as good as it ever was. There's something about eating a meal with no utensils that appeals to me. The restaurant is brightly lit, large, has a very 'upscale' appearance, and the waitstaff are very friendly and speak impeccable English. We decided Queen of Sheba is the best place for us to take some friends to whom we introduced Ethiopian food some time ago at a very different Ethiopian restaurant. The other place, where the food is very good, has a distinctly different ambience; it is dark, the people seem uncomfortable with Anglos and with the English language, and the clientele is, for the most part, distinctly non-mainstream. I rather like that atmosphere, but it does make some people uncomfortable. Queen of Sheba is endeavoring to make an Ethiopian restaurant that is inviting to mainstream , white, middle America. Our friends, we think, would be more comfortable there. That's odd, since they are Italian, Israeli, and Canadian, and have traveled quite extensively including places I have never been, such as Asia.
After dinner, we stopped by a Blockbuster video store near our house, where a sign was posted to inform customers that the store is "moving" in early February to two "new" locations: the addresses given were those of two existing stores. Blockbuster is not doing a particularly good job of hiding its financial woes. We rented a movie (Must Love Dogs), which was not as bad as I expected; I found myself enjoying it despite my inclination (and my intent) to consider it maudlin swill.
Our evening capped a day of moderate levels of work around the house, lunch at Top Cat, and dashing in and out of the car to do errands of various kinds. Our dining room now looks like a dining room...the table can actually be used as a place for meals. It took hours to vacuum gypsum dust from every exposed and not-so-exposed surface in the room. I moved all my books to my study, which is one of the next places to tackle in terms of organization. Eventually, it will be a guest bedroom (complete with four-poster bed, when we confirm that our queen-size bed will fit and when we buy a new king-size bed for our master bedroom) and study for me.
Top Cat is a fast-food-style place that serves fried catfish, fried oysters, gumbo, other fried seafood, Cajun dishes, and has a mostly black clientele due, at least in part, to its location. I've not been there before, but my wife once stopped in on her way back to the office from a doctor visit and bought fried oysters, which were excellent. When we went yesterday, we split an oyster po-boy (tasty, but served on Texas toast instead of a hard roll, making it messy) and each ordered a bowl of gumbo. Instead of the side of fries that came with the po-boy, we asked the server to give us a small serving of cole slaw (for my wife) and a small order of red beans and rice for me, to which he readily agreed. The red beans and rice were among the best I've ever had. We agreed we should have ordered a cup, instead of a bowl, of gumbo; a bowl was too much. We agreed, too, that the gumbo was bland and not worth ordering again. I would recommend the place in favor of any chain seafood restaurant...mostly because I have an unreasonable bias against chain restaurants, based not in real quality of food, but in my expectation of food quality.
The experience at Top Cat was interesting, totally apart from the food. The guy at the cash register was a young man, probably in his early twenties, with black hair that fell well below his shoulders and a mustache and goatee, both of which were rather long, too. When I first saw him, I thought he looked Hispanic; there was no trace of a Mexican accent when he spoke. He seemed to be a genuinely friendly guy. I pulled out my credit card to pay and he swiped the card and said something to the effect that "It may take a minute; I think this is the original card reader and the telephone wiring is the original wiring in this store." I waited for a few moments and he apologized for the wait, again, seeming to be truly sorry that I was having to wait. When the machine gave a signal that it lost the connection, he again apologized; I said it was not a problem, and that I'd just pay cash. He apologized yet again. Every time, I believed he was really sorry I had the experience. In a large chain restaurant, I think the person behind the counter would have been trained to offer requisite words of apology, but they would have been too staged, too practiced, to have made an impact. In this little place, I suspect the people are not trained in customer service, at least not much, because unlike the big chains, the time and money for training simply are not available. It's in these sorts of places that I think I see the way people really are, untouched by corporate policies that dictate the specific words to use in the encounter with a customer.
Yesterday's mail brought theatre tickets. My wife bought season tickets to a nearby theatre where we've been before and have always enjoyed; the quality of the actors, the staff, and the selection of plays, etc. have been good. We want to get out more and my wife is particularly fond of the theatre, so we got season tickets, which were really inexpensive. Our first experience with our new season tickets will be Friday night, when we go to see Urinetown, the Musical. Since food is always near the top of mind for both of us, my wife reminded me that going to the theatre will give us the perfect opportunity to visit the sushi place just up the street, where we can enjoy what they call their Volcano Roll.
Anyone who frequents this blog is probably family...or someone who stumbled across it and decided to monitor the pychoses of the Geezer. Well, there's a reason for the odd mixture of 'day in the life' comments, political diatribes, poetry, fiction, soul-searching, etc. I do intend to write and publish something 'serious' some day, and I am using this blog as a means of recording my thoughts, my state of mind, and my perceptions about the world, etc. I expect I will be able to pull bits and pieces of what I have written into the 'serious' stuff later. Some of what I have written will serve as canvass for the stories I hope to paint. At least I hope so.
If you read my post yesterday, you will have noted that I mentioned a book by David Dorado Romo published by Cinco Puntos Press. I sent an email to Cinco Punto Press, expressing an interest in communicating with Romo to inquire about his research methods; I got a fairly quick response, essentially telling me to buy the book if I wanted to learn how he did his research, as the book is extensively footnoted. That's good to know, but I really wanted to have a conversation with Romo. I may try again.
During my house-cleaning exercises yesterday, I uncovered a number of books I have bought but have yet to read (or, at least, read completely). Despite the fact that my new glasses did not deliver to me astonishingly clear reading vision, it's adequate now to enable me to read books if I sit under a good light. So, I'm planning to spend a little time every day reading books, instead of being glued to news and the like. I need to focus some attention on how other people write and to compare my style (in my 'serious' stuff) with successful writers.
I read an item in the Santiago Times that disturbs me. The article reported on three terrorist bombs in the Santiago, Chile area, none of which resulted in any significant damage or injury. It seems the bombers included literature, in the latest bombing, condemning newly-elected president Michelle Bachalet and saying the perpetrators would engage in increasingly violent acts. The bomber(s) expressed disdain for the fact that Bachalet apparently has a good relationship with business.
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