They don’t want to chance a scuff if he wants the last slice of lemon icebox pie. Drycleaning blood off suits is pricey. Frankly, I’m suspicious of him; the overalls denote working class, but he’s wearing a leather jacket, nice oxford shirt, and a tipped fedora. Plus, he’s looking straight at the cameraman. At first, he looks innocent enough, but I bet he’s reaching back to pull out a shank.
What’s up buttercup? This is the real deal Lucille. Doesn’t Ol’ Black Eye look like Spencer Tracy? Where’s the Joe. Milk and pie? Oh My. Brylcreem- A Little Dab will Do You. More than 1000 tales. Don’t worry Black Eye can take them both. Please. Some one Stop Me.
Danny looks so sad 😦 So I want to talk about the pie. Blueberry do you suppose? I think coffee is best with pie, any pie really. Sort of a digression, but it’s about pie so: Saw the coolest metaphor about the myth of a balanced life. No one has it down (so said the author, though I tend to believe her) and it’s makes more sense to think of life like a pie. It occasionally falls and splats to the ground, in which case you just scoop up as much of it as you can, enjoying every bite, then moving on with either the same pie or a new one. (that last part wasn’t clear) But I liked as it justifies my scattered existence where I can’t keep it all together. Thinking most folks are in the same (pie) boat. Wouldn’t a pie boat be fun?
There is not enough room on WordPress. I so rarely eat it but I so often want it. I like blackberry and razzleberry cobblers and pies, and when I worked at Coco’s in college, I would eat their bananaberry fudge drizzle down pie with strawberries. Oh, and Cheesecake Factory’s raspberry dark chocolate (oh, but that’s sort of cake). Marie Callendar’s lemon cream, coconut cream, chocolate cream. Oh, and pecan! Chocolate bourbon pecan…
There is a restaurant famous for pies in Marble Falls, TX bc their meringue is 6 inches high, but it mostly just looks like foamy cow spit to me, so I’ll pass on that. What about you??
Reminds me of an old (bad) joke my father used to tell:
“Why is my fanger like a lemon pie?”
Silence from innocent by-stander
“Cause it gots my-rang on’it”
Yes. Yes. I know….
I can’t scoop it up once it’s fallen. It’s tainted. How am I supposed to continue consuming a tainted pie? Perhaps I will think of it as occasionally crumbling, at which point, I just eat the insides. On a nice, clean plate. With scoops of ice cream. Oh, and I WILL take some coffee, thank you.
A ‘pie boat?’
Hmmm…
Mayhap.
I’ll get back to you.
Hey! By the way: would that be a ‘Love Boat’ kinda pie boat or the ‘Titanic?’
I need some clarification here.
Cheers,
Lance
My father was an intellectual. (spoke five languages, including Texican)
Also a D.O., and a magician and a renaissance character, and a Shakespearean, and a disc jockey, and a TV star, and….
Whut kin I say.
This nut fell so very far from that tree.
😉
My favorite dinner server/evening barkeep ever — yup, he did both chores because the beloved N&H, his family restaurant and bar were two rooms connected — used to ask me after serving me the “yellow plate special — chicky fricky with creamed corn” if I wanted apple pie, “window cut,” for dessert. Tommy Hrim was his name. He was the only one in the world I allowed to call me Wojo. Anybody else I would have threatened with a shiner like the left side pie guy in your photo, Kerbey.
Tommy was my friend. Chicky fricky. Window cut pie. Draft beer. Good conversation. Super Bowl Sunday, he’d save me a kielbasa sandwich to go with that draft beer because the N&H always served kielbasa sandwiches at the bar on Super Bowl Sunday. And the restaurant/bar was on block from the newspaper building. Tommy passed away about five years ago. I miss him, Kerbey.
I’m sorry, Mark. He sounds like a good friend who made you feel worthy of his last kielbasa. You have had a lot of life experience. More things to miss as well.
This place was the hangout for all of us newspaper types, and they treated us well, Kerbey. His mother and father got too old, he didn’t want to keep it up himself, and he sold it to the folks who started the now famous Dinosaur Bar-B-Que some 25 years ago. But those were the days, my friend.
Notice that the two suits are huddled together against poor old Black-Eye?
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They don’t want to chance a scuff if he wants the last slice of lemon icebox pie. Drycleaning blood off suits is pricey. Frankly, I’m suspicious of him; the overalls denote working class, but he’s wearing a leather jacket, nice oxford shirt, and a tipped fedora. Plus, he’s looking straight at the cameraman. At first, he looks innocent enough, but I bet he’s reaching back to pull out a shank.
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What’s up buttercup? This is the real deal Lucille. Doesn’t Ol’ Black Eye look like Spencer Tracy? Where’s the Joe. Milk and pie? Oh My. Brylcreem- A Little Dab will Do You. More than 1000 tales. Don’t worry Black Eye can take them both. Please. Some one Stop Me.
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Yes, a very young Tracy. Methinks that banker wants seconds on milk and pie. A dose of double dairy!
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You are probably right. But way back when I drank coffee it was with pie. Milk was for cake. Well maybe I should shut up now.
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I see a little Danny Kaye in fedora guy.
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Danny Kaye wasn’t the brawling sort, was he? I guess everyone has his bad day. Perhaps he was jumped by a gang of hoodlums!
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Danny looks so sad 😦 So I want to talk about the pie. Blueberry do you suppose? I think coffee is best with pie, any pie really. Sort of a digression, but it’s about pie so: Saw the coolest metaphor about the myth of a balanced life. No one has it down (so said the author, though I tend to believe her) and it’s makes more sense to think of life like a pie. It occasionally falls and splats to the ground, in which case you just scoop up as much of it as you can, enjoying every bite, then moving on with either the same pie or a new one. (that last part wasn’t clear) But I liked as it justifies my scattered existence where I can’t keep it all together. Thinking most folks are in the same (pie) boat. Wouldn’t a pie boat be fun?
LikeLiked by 2 people
oh, what is your favorite kind of pie?
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is not enough room on WordPress. I so rarely eat it but I so often want it. I like blackberry and razzleberry cobblers and pies, and when I worked at Coco’s in college, I would eat their bananaberry fudge drizzle down pie with strawberries. Oh, and Cheesecake Factory’s raspberry dark chocolate (oh, but that’s sort of cake). Marie Callendar’s lemon cream, coconut cream, chocolate cream. Oh, and pecan! Chocolate bourbon pecan…
There is a restaurant famous for pies in Marble Falls, TX bc their meringue is 6 inches high, but it mostly just looks like foamy cow spit to me, so I’ll pass on that. What about you??
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reminds me of an old (bad) joke my father used to tell:
“Why is my fanger like a lemon pie?”
Silence from innocent by-stander
“Cause it gots my-rang on’it”
Yes. Yes. I know….
LikeLike
I can’t scoop it up once it’s fallen. It’s tainted. How am I supposed to continue consuming a tainted pie? Perhaps I will think of it as occasionally crumbling, at which point, I just eat the insides. On a nice, clean plate. With scoops of ice cream. Oh, and I WILL take some coffee, thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A ‘pie boat?’
Hmmm…
Mayhap.
I’ll get back to you.
Hey! By the way: would that be a ‘Love Boat’ kinda pie boat or the ‘Titanic?’
I need some clarification here.
Cheers,
Lance
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love boat! there’s no pie good enough to get me on a sinking ship.
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😉
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Ok, I sort of get it. (which is at least a step above I Don’t Get it) Meringue pie. And finger with a ring? It’s like one of those word puzzles.
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My father was an intellectual. (spoke five languages, including Texican)
Also a D.O., and a magician and a renaissance character, and a Shakespearean, and a disc jockey, and a TV star, and….
Whut kin I say.
This nut fell so very far from that tree.
😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
My favorite dinner server/evening barkeep ever — yup, he did both chores because the beloved N&H, his family restaurant and bar were two rooms connected — used to ask me after serving me the “yellow plate special — chicky fricky with creamed corn” if I wanted apple pie, “window cut,” for dessert. Tommy Hrim was his name. He was the only one in the world I allowed to call me Wojo. Anybody else I would have threatened with a shiner like the left side pie guy in your photo, Kerbey.
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You mean like on Barney Miller? I bet you’re the only person on WordPress who has ever eaten chicky fricky. Tommy certainly left an impression on you.
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Tommy was my friend. Chicky fricky. Window cut pie. Draft beer. Good conversation. Super Bowl Sunday, he’d save me a kielbasa sandwich to go with that draft beer because the N&H always served kielbasa sandwiches at the bar on Super Bowl Sunday. And the restaurant/bar was on block from the newspaper building. Tommy passed away about five years ago. I miss him, Kerbey.
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I’m sorry, Mark. He sounds like a good friend who made you feel worthy of his last kielbasa. You have had a lot of life experience. More things to miss as well.
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This place was the hangout for all of us newspaper types, and they treated us well, Kerbey. His mother and father got too old, he didn’t want to keep it up himself, and he sold it to the folks who started the now famous Dinosaur Bar-B-Que some 25 years ago. But those were the days, my friend.
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You have enough cool facts here to write an entire blog post on this, you know. You have any pics to add? And I won’t call you Mojo.
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I don’t, but I will investigate, Kerbey. But right now my lunch hour is winding down …
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Oh My!
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So much fodder to turn into prose: so little time.
Great photo Kerbey.
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