joe dreck
July 10, 2009

Joe Dreck, the Captain, wonders ... was the chicken
the inspiration for the mohawk?
Email
capt.dreck@gmail.com

Subject: A COUPLE OF HELPFUL COOKING TIPS
Date:
Tuesday, June 23, 2009 10:57 PM

OK ya'll, it's been a while since I've given out any new culinary tips, but I've got a couple of good ones fer ya now. I jus discovered both of these in th last hour and I'm gonna pass em on. They're both very simple, very easy. And th thing is; these are not really things. To Do, but rather, things NOT To Do!

OK, so...I decided to prepare fer myself some boiled red new-potatoes. I picked out a half-dozen or so, and sliced em up into small pieces, which I put in a small metal pot, added my water, sprinkled some seasonings in, and placed em over a medium fire.

Then I went back to my living area on th sofa, where I do a lotta my living, and resumed readin a book. But shortly, my eyelids grew heavy, and so I laid my book across my chest fer jus a minute...... OOOPS! Cuz, like, when I woke up, th crib was full of smoke. Yeh, yeah, I know....ya think ya've heard this story before, don'cha? But ya haven't. Not this particular story anyway; oh sure, similar stories perhaps, but not this one!

Even tho I woke up to a place full of smoke, I didn't panic cuz as th old sayin goes, "This wan't my first rodeo, y'know!" I immediately knew exactly what th problema was, and so I hurriedly scurried thru th smoke into th kitchen to remove th offendin smokin pot off th stove and placed it on a plastic cutting board on my dining room table, and then, opened th front door and got a blanket and started tryin to wave some of th smoke out th door. Thas pretty much an exercise in futility. Ha ha But if you had been an Indian*, or as they're now called, a Native American, passin by, ya woulda instantly interpreted those smoke signals and yer keen sense of smell woulda told ya, "Dumb fucking white-eyes burned up potatoes!"

Aw'right, so, Tip # 1 is; Don't take a nap while boilin potatoes! Thas pretty simple, pretty easy isn't it? I told ya it was!

OK, now fer Tip # 2. Do ya recall me sayin how I put th pot on top of my plastic cutting board? Well look here ese, and lemme make myself clear here; DON'T DO THAT!! Nope! Cus here's what happened; th fookin pot and th cutting board are now one piece. Thas right! They melded together y'see! Th blazin hot metal pot melted it's way into th cutting board and now they can't be separated, and I tried too duke!

They are One with each other, renderin both of em pretty fuckin useless now!

OK boyz n gurlz, what did we learn tonite? A quick review.

1. Don't sleep while cookin!
2. Don't mix hot metal with plastic!

If ya jus avoid both of those things, yer cookin experiences will go much smoother.

OK, no need to thank me. I jus try and use my own personal experiences to try and enlighten those others around me who may be in th dark, so to speak, and in need of some Enlightenment!

th cap'm

* This term, "Indian" perplexes me. I don't know why we persist, and more importantly, why these peoples have allowed themselves to be called this for hundreds of years now? If ya recall, th term was originally given to em in th mistaken belief that Columbus and his scurvy crew had sailed right to India, which had been their goal. So, in th mistaken belief they had wound up there in India, they called th natives they encountered, "Indians", but see, they're not reely Indians, as in peoples of India, are they!! Fuck no they're not!! I mean, why didn't one of em say, "Hey yo, ugly hairy white dudes! Um...if ya haven't noticed, this ain't India, and ergo, we ain't fuckin Indians!" I mean, supposin CC had been on his way to China instead? Would we then, for th past hundreds of years persisted on referrin to em as th Chinese? Would guys in th movies been sayin things like, "The chinese are on the warpath!" Would th government have rounded em all up and put em on Chinese reservations? Would some peoples refer to em today as th American Chinese? What about th baseball team, Th Cleveland Chinese? Sounds pretty weird and strange doesn't it, and yet it's reely no stranger than th Cleveland Indians when ya get right down to it! Basta!


Subject: ORIGINS OF WORDS
Date:
Tuesday, June 23, 2009 4:44 PM

I jus wanted to clear up some things about some words. Peoples get upset sometimes when they say things, and even tho others know what they mean, they wonder where in th fuck that term came from? I'm here to help those unfortunates. Here's a few fer ya.

"GUY" As in, fr'instance, "Who is that guy?" See, back in 1605 there was a British political agitator by the name of Guy Fawkes who tried to blow up Parliament, but was caught and executed. Th British began celebratin Nov. 5th as Guy Fawkes Day and burning effigies of, "the old GUY". Since th effigies were dressed in old clothes, th term "guy" originally came to mean a bum. But then in Colonial times, it's meaning was broadened to mean any male. OK, I hope that clears up any mystery ya had about that one.

"It was a real doozy!" Aw'right, now, I'm sure at some time or other ya've heard that expression before, eh. OK, back in 1930 Fredrick F. Duesenburg was an automobile manufacturer and his Duesenburg SJ was th most bitchin car of it's time. It was so cool that it's nickname, 'th Duesey' became a slang term for anything that was "really cool", or "swell" as they woulda said then, ergo, "Thas a real doozy!" See what I mean!

"FRISBEE" Ya prolly already know this one, don'cha?! William Russell Frisbie was a pie maker and he founded the Frisbie Pie Company of Bridgeport, Connecticut in 1871. Then, in th early 1900s, jus up th road a piece, there in yer New Haven, students at Yale found they could sail th frisbie pie tins, and so started tossin em back and forth. So, thank th Yalies fer discoverin other uses fer th pie tin.

"MAVERICK" In th mid 1800s there was a Texas cattle baron by name of Samuel A. Maverick who had so many unbranded stray calves they became known as “mavericks.” Eventually, th term came to include independent-minded peoples as well.

I know these things have prolly been botherin ya fer some time and I hope this will help ya all get a better night's sleep tonite. I jus do what I can, cuz I know these things have been botherin ya fer some time. y'know!

th cap'm


Subject: OH FUCK! UNBELIEVABLE!
Date:
Sunday, June 21, 2009 11:40 PM

I just read where th young rich kid I wrote about, who killed another guy in a drunken hit and run accident, and by th way, scuse me but I erroneously had said he's been released, but he's not actually set to be released until th 30th of this month, but ferget that! Check this......hang on to yer hats here!....... but this fuckin mook has filed a federal lawsuit against th Sigma Alpha Mu fraternity and it's chapter at Tulane University where he was a student and fraternity pledge last year. No jive! This Poster Boy for Punks is claiming that he was hazed at Tulane last year and as a result, that he's now suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome which causes him to make bad decisions!

UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLE! Ya unnerstan? Yeah, y'see, th reason why he was drunk on his ass and he blasted that guy into oblivion was becuz he'd been "hazed", and now as a result, makes, "bad decisions". Oh mercy! GIVE-ME-A-FUCKING-BREAK, PLEEEZE!

Th fucking gall! Th temerity! Th cheek! Th effrontery! It would be jus TOO fucking much if this asshole should win a large settlement after having killed that kid! I mean, is there no end to th Arrogance and sense of Entitlement these wealthy assholes seem to think is jus another perk of havin lotsa money? Have they no shame at all? speechless wasn't enuff that he got off with barely even a slap on th wrist for killin somebody, but they now want to try and make it th fault of his fraternity for "hazing" him ??

I'm left speechless! Almost!

th cap'm


Subject: WHERE IS TH OUTRAGE?
Date:
Saturday, June 20, 2009 4:45 PM

Did'ja see where this young rich kid, was just released from jail after spendin 120 days locked up fer a hit and run DUI accident that killed another young guy crossin Ward Pkwy. 20-year-old Curtis Mertensmeyer knocked th victim 140 feet, causin massive injuries and his severed leg wound up 200 feet beyond his body! Got clobbered pretty good, eh. Th young punk was a grad of Pembroke Day School and lives in Mission Hills. Does that give ya any clues boyz n gurlz as to why he only did 120 days?

Jackson County Judge John Torrence (remember that prick's name) who had originally sentenced th kid to five years, said on granting his early release, that his behavior in prison had been "exceptional". OH mercy! I spose that means he didn't run over and kill anybody else.

And th punk-ass kid's lawyer, J.R. Hobbs, prolly not realizin th Irony said, "I think it's another example of how the system works even in difficult cases." Ha ha Oh Man, yer Right On there JR!

It's fuckin disgusting! I know a guy who's been locked down at Cameron now fer 7 years for a DUI, hit and run, non-injury accident. Yeah, yeah, it was his 4th offense, thas true, but as I said, there were no injuries to anybody. His family is hopin now that he might get an early release in January, (he was given 11 years to begin with) in which case he will have done 8 FOOKIN YEARS, and this rich kid gets 120 days fer a DUI, hit and run with a fatality! How does one reconcile that sentence, compared to th rich kids, all things considered?

Remember that, "Liberty and Justice Fer All" bit peoples are always quoting? Well, what they're not tellin ya, is that that "Justice" they're talkin about has a price tag attached, and if ya don't have enuff jack, yer gonna have to pay yer debt to Society by forfeiting that "Liberty" part, and get yer ass incarcerated.

Th system works!

Yeah sure, and pigs can fly too!

th Cap'm


Subject: CLOSE CALL WITH DISASTER
Date:
Saturday, June 20, 2009 12:12 PM

Whew! That was a close one. Yesterday, finishin up my shower and vigorously drying my hair, I noticed in th mirror my diamond earring was not in it's proper place there in my ear. Thas where I always keep it. Curses! TEN THOUSAND CURSES! It occurred to me that maybe I had dislodged it towelin off my hair. So, I got down on my hands and knees and started frantically searchin, inch by inch, all over th floor. After about twenty minutes, I realized it wasn't there. Th situation was fast gettin gloomy. Sheeit! That left th bottom of th tub, which was a reely bad prospect since there is no cover over th drain. But shortly, I found th little clamp that secures it on th rubber mat.....but th diamond itself wasn't there. Sunuvabitch! Th only conclusion was that it had been washed down th drain! I couldn't believe it. I was bummed out as I thought of th expense of gettin a plumber out, but then...... I spotted it. There it was. Hallelujah. It was reely hard to see cus it was lyin there on th small chrome ring surroundin th drain, not more than a quarter inch away from dropping. Th smallest trickle of water woulda been all it woulda taken to wash it away.

Man, what a relief! So, y'know, as is th custom when th gods grant ya a favor, yer supposed to do somethin nice for em to show yer appreciation, but darn it, I didn't have any bulls or goats to sacrifice. And pleeze don't tell th peoples at PETA I even entertained that thought. Man, considerin how they reacted to th killin of a fly, that woulda reely pissed em off. So, lackin proper sacrificial animals, I had to improvise.......so, I went to KFC and offered up a quarter chicken (original recipe) which I devoured right there on th spot. Well, ya know......ya do what ya can, right?!

th Cap'm


Subject: THE HEIGHT OF SHEER STUPIDITY
Date:
Friday, June 19, 2009 2:31 PM

While I don't necessarily endorse them, I have no real complaint with th peoples at PETA and their goals. However, it's not a cause I'm gonna be marchin in th street over, and there are worse things peoples could do to waste their time with.....like bein a Republican, fr'instance!

So.....Rush, Newt, Dick and Sarah, youse guys jus keep on truckin. Th Institutions are full of yer fans! Ha ha Jus joshin!

But, looky here, this latest whine of the PETA nutballs complainin about th Prez swatting of a fly is absolutely utter Nonsense to th Nth degree! Get fucking Real, huh!! I mean, how fucking ridiculous can ya get? It's akin to th Jains sect in India. Are ya familiar with them? While I think Non-violence as a goal is an admirable cause, I mean, who could argue against that ........ But...... ya can take even th best and most admiral Cause to an absurd extreme where it turns into an Obsession bordering on Insanity! Like, these fucknuts wear veils over their noses so they don't accidently breathe in some insects. Sheeit! Gimme a fuckin break, huh! Can ya imagine th Guilt they must feel in walkin from Point A to Point B? GASP! Like, how many innocent, tiny creatures must die, their short lives cut even shorter, by th selfish desire of a Jain dude to move about th countryside preachin his code of non-violence and respect fer all living things? Whew! A whole bunch, I'll bet'cha!

Well anyway, th peoples at PETA have evidently gone off th deep end, and instead of stickin up fer th rights of Flys prolly oughta be seekin some kind of Professional Help, don'cha think!?

th Cap'm


Subject: HELP
Date:
Thursday, June 18, 2009 4:46 PM

OK ya'll, I got a request. I have a tape recording that I made back in 1959. I was livin in San Bernardino, California at th time and my gurl friend lived in Germany and long distance then cost $12.00 a minute, thas right Duke, ya heard me......12 fookin bucks a minute!

I was slavin away as a "pearl diver" (dish washer) in th restaurant at th Del Rosa Bowling Alley and I was workin fer $1.00 @ hour. At that rate, one 3 minute phone call we made had cost me a week's wages. So..... that was th last time I did that. So then, we started exchangin tape recordings instead. Every month or two, we would send a tape to each other describing what was goin on in our lives, kinda like a journal. I still have one of those tapes and have no idea what's on it, but I'm thinkin it would be awfully amusin to find out.

I had left home after graduating from H. H. Arnold, an American high school fer military dependents in Wiesbaden, Germany in '59, where my dad was stationed and where I had met this gurl. I mean, sheeit, there I was, in San Berdoo, 17 years old, livin on my own, parents 7,000 miles away, no adult supervision of any kind, and jus havin myself a blast! There's gotta be somethin on that tape worth listenin to!

!959. That was th year I took a lil trip to T-Town (Tiajuana) to cop my first "stick" of th Demon Weed. Inspired by Kerouac's, "On the Road". Course I know I sure as hell didn't tell her bout That!! Back then, in th 50's, that wasn't somethin ya admitted to anyone!! Period! Especially yer gurlfriend. Not even yer best friend either! Ya couldn't let anyone know ya were a dope-crazed, maniacal narcotics user. If ya had a friend and they even suspected anything like that, why sheeit, they'd drop a dime on ya in a New Yawk second to th Vice Squad, and have yer ass arrested. Fer yer own good of course. To save ya from a Life of Shame, Degradation and Insanity! Cus thas what Mary Jane did to ya! Sheeit, haven't ya ever seen, Reefer Madness?

Believe me, that movie that peoples watch today fer laughs wasn't no joke back then. That was dead serious biz, and peoples took it that way too! Common perception was; jus one single puff, and yer life of normalcy was over fer good and for ever! That was also th year I became a beatnik, also inspired by Kerouac and th other "beat' writers of th time. I spent a lotta time in '59 and '60 in th Polyglot, th Eighth Day Cafe, and th Tiki Hut, all notorious doper hangouts, diggin Jazz and bein a cool Hipster! Ha ha

Well anyway, is there anyone out there who happens to have a reel-to-reel tape recorder (remember those?) I could borrow fer evening cus I'm curious and would like to hear that tape and hear whas there? Lemme know if ya can help an old geezer out, huh?

th Cap'm


Subject: ATTN: SPEED FREAKS, YOU TALK TOO MUCH
Date:
Thursday, June 18, 2009 2:17 AM

OK, here's th scenario: You have th misfortune of bein in a conversation with another person who is "wired", y'know what I mean? They're speedin like a mofo! Their mouth is running a mile a minute and they're sprayin those "cotton balls" all over th place. Mebbe it's only from too much coffee, mebbe they've been smokin some crack, or meth, or snortin some coke..... y'know, whatever, but they've done some kinda "uppers" thas got their minds racin faster than their mouths can handle. Oh ese, this can be a real drag! But, listen here...... it's bad enuff under regular circumstances, but when one of em sez this to ya, after startin a story,

"long story short"

Thas a really bad sign Duke! That means yer gonna be preoccupied fer some time. That means ya might as well relax, get comfortable, kick back, light up a doobie, order another drink, Y'know, whatever, cuz yer gonna be in fer an Epic Tale. Gilgamesh would be shorter. When they say this, it means fr'instance, yer about to be told in th slightest detail, th back ground histories of Billy and Jack, th storyteller's former roommates from college, who are th Main Feature of th story. You will be findin out all kinds of things about their childhoods, their tragedies, their hardships, their triumphs and successes, etc, It's gonna take some time to acquaint ya with these main characters.

But thas jus so ya'll have some idea of th physical, emotional and mental makeup of th peoples involved in th story. Remember, this long, involved tale is about two dudes this guy knew many years ago in college. Course ya don't know em. Never heard of em in yer life before, but that doesn't matter. You'll know them better now. And this can take quite a long time. And thas all before they even get to th crux of th story. They like to think of this as "background" and in their mind's eye, this attention to detail only enhances th Authenticity of th story. Y'know, like,

"Damn, was that Thursday or Friday of th first week in May, '92? Cuz on Fridays, after our three o'clock class, Melvin Selewsky and I usually stopped by th Student Union, no wait, it was Friday, cus his car had a flat on Thursday nite and we left it in front of Zak's house cus we had crashed there and he was drivin that '73 monkey-shit brown Vega. The brakes on that car were always fucked up, I remember that time we were drivin to.............."

On and on ad naseaum. Godam, but it can be a pain in th ass! Man, sheeit, I hate listenin to somebody who believes, becuz of that speed and th effect it has, that they're jus th most interestin, and fascinatin person yer privileged to talk with. And they feel so strongly about it, that they have no compunctions about borin ya to death with a tale which has no meanin to any body other than th peoples involved. Th fact is; it's reely th sound of their own voice they find so fascinatin! Y'know, th way th words come gushin out, so fast and furious ya can hardly distinguish em. And then of course, they also like to demonstrate th Wonder of their Minds. Sheeit, who else but a clodhopper wouldn't be captivated and enthralled?

But fer myself, I can't take it anymore boyz n gurlz; I've spent too many hours in my life listenin to bullshit like that. I jus don't have th patience for it! So, in order to avoid that kinda situation, what I do is now this; as soon as some one sez,

"OK, long story short!"

I immediately make my eyes bug out, y'know, like, they're about to pop....... and I point with my finger over their shoulder and say in a loud, excited voice,

"LOOK, THERE'S A FLYING SAUCER!"

And as soon as th words are outta my mouth and they turn to see where I'm pointing, I use that time to fold my tent and silently make my egress. Of course, when they realize that there is no flying saucer and that I am gone......they pay that little insignificant factor no mind at all, becuz.... there's still Magick in their Voice and it reely doesn't matter whether anyones there to hear them or not!

Try this th next time you are confronted with a Speed Demon. It works.

th Cap'm

P.S. By th way, that reminds me. I have an interesting question fer you Philosophy and Ethics Majors out there;

"If a dog barks in th forest,
and no one hears him,
is he still a Bad Dog?"


Subject: KANSAS CITY BBQ
Date:
Wednesday, June 17, 2009 12:04 AM

My buddy, Mike th G sent this to me. Written by a guy from th Washington Post. If ya like BBQ, specially Kansas city BBQ, check it out.
_______________________

Things Can Get Heated in BBQ-Loving Kansas City
By Scott Vogel

Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, June 14, 2009

You've stared in blank-faced horror at the charred wreckage that was once your brisket; you've learned to apologize preemptively when the chicken is too dry. You've mastered every coping mechanism that a meeting of minds around a checkered vinyl tablecloth could possibly require, and still you're uneasy. My pork butt, you tell yourself, isn't fooling anyone.

And it isn't.

In desperation, you scare up the latest issue of the Kansas City Bullsheet, a house organ for the largest barbecue society in the world but also a missalette for the growing religion that is 'cue. There you read that the society's 2008 grand champion in competitive team barbecue, an outfit known as the Munchin' Hogs, are competing this weekend. Sure, it's at a public park in Lawrence, Kan., an hour's drive west of Kansas City. But couldn't a trip to this field of dreams, not to mention the neighboring barbecue-mad metropolis, be just the thing to change your barbecue luck (your karma-cue?), turning you from a grilling good-for-nothing to a star of the backyard circuit?

No, probably not, but when it comes to misguided attempts at spiritual repair, can you imagine anything more delicious?

From the moment the plane emerges from the clouds, your attention is pulled in two directions. In one there are rolling green pastures as far as the eye can see; in another, it's all ribbon-of-highway stuff, every road seemingly leading to Kansas City's downtown, part of a more-handsome-than-you'd-think metropolis erected on the shoulders of corporations like H&R Block, Sprint and Hallmark. What you see next: the two rivers, the Kansas and the Missouri, the former emptying into the latter, thereby creating the impetus for a metro area of 2 million split by two waterways spanning two states that were on two sides of the Civil War conflict, and on and on.

Not surprisingly, multiple points of view tend to be encouraged in all matters here -- all matters, that is, save one: barbecue. Fistfights have been known to break out over differences of opinion regarding the city's 90-some joints. Politics, sex and religion are all far safer conversational gambits. That is because loving one's barbecue place, you see, means trashing every other barbecue place to high heaven, often in ridiculous terms and always off the record. (Sample invective: "Jack Stack can't be a barbecue joint. It has tablecloths. But don't print that.")

* * *

It might be just 11:30 a.m., but the lines are already forming at Oklahoma Joe's, a barbecue joint that luxuriates in its joint-ness, operating out of an old Shamrock gas station in Kansas City, Kan., just over the Missouri line. Roughly 500 folks will eat here during a typical weekday lunch service, many coming for owner Jeff Stehney's Z-Man sandwich, a concoction composed of brisket, provolone and, well, onion rings. You see the gargantuan things everywhere in the Oklahoma Joe's dining room, where the crowd is loud, the lunches long, the pork ribs better than you thought possible and the walls draped with large banners won by Slaughterhouse Five, Stehney's team on the competitive circuit.

The patrons this day include Paul Kirk, the self-described Kansas City Baron of Barbecue, fellow expert and author Ardie Davis, and Carolyn Wells, the Kansas City Barbecue Society's executive director.

"Our one rule when we started the organization was, none of it was to be taken seriously," Wells says of the society, patiently letting the laughter at the table die down before continuing. "Another thing you need to know: The mark of a really good barbecue joint is when you see other barbecue people in it."

Kirk is certainly one of these. A Kansas City native with a mock-professorial demeanor who is something of a legend in the field, Kirk is a walking advertisement for how seriously this unserious stuff has become.

On aluminum foil: "I refuse to use it. I call it the Texas crutch. I won't compromise my standards just to win a ribbon."

On pellet cookers: "People are worried about it becoming robo-cue."

On the open sores on his arms, caused by a scalding he received while carrying a steaming pot of barbecue sauce down the stairs at home: "I would have dropped it, but I couldn't. I needed the sauce."

"Great to break bones with you," salutes Davis as you nudge your way through the crowd, setting off in search of more great 'cue and unexpectedly discovering a city you admire. "It's about Americana and food, family, fun and friends," Wells had said, words she'd used to describe the enduring appeal of barbecuing but that seem just as applicable to Kansas City itself. Most of K.C.'s various downtown living rooms (Crown Center, Country Club Plaza, the Power & Light District) are in Kansas City, Mo., and as unprepossessing and comfortable as such gathering places can be.

The newest of the three, Power & Light, opened officially just last year, and although a few storefronts remain empty, the nine-block shopping and restaurant complex already boasts a dramatic domed vaudeville-house-cum-AMC-theater, a covered outdoor plaza for concerts and carousing, and a nice collection of bars and eateries including, oddly for K.C., a Famous Dave's barbecue.

But not to worry. A few blocks south sits an old railroad freight house that some savvy entrepreneurs converted into Fiorella's Jack Stack, a place so upscale (ambient lighting! beamed ceilings! yup, tablecloths!) that you almost understand the backlash. Can a barbecue joint be great if it's not a joint?

"Yes, it can," says Tim Keegan, Jack Stack's soft-spoken pit master, who most days can be seen barbecuing 3,000 to 5,000 pounds of meat with the help of a staff of 14. A Kansas native whose days start at 5 a.m. (and whose wife's days end at 4; she cleans three of the city's four Fiorella's at night), Keegan motions us to the kitchen, where giant smokers house sizzling brisket, the drippings falling into bubbling pots of Fiorella's baked beans. The kitchen floor is almost comically greasy and treacherous, and we slide gingerly over to get a better view of Fiorella's piece de resistance, a few racks of crown prime beef ribs. They are "the ultimate barbecue experience," according to the menu, and, upon sampling them, we can dutifully report that that is something of an understatement.

Kansas City likes to call itself the City of Fountains, boasting that no other town save Rome has more of them. But it's really a city of districts, we think, because, hey, here's another one: the 18th and Vine Historic Jazz District. It's here on the east side of downtown that Count Basie once brought a new sound to the world in the 1920s and '30s, dining on barbecue in between sets (and allegedly spitting on his ribs so no one would disturb them while he played), here that Charlie Parker first played bebop and near here that baseball's Negro National League was founded in 1920. All these contributions to American culture are given fine museum treatments in the district, and at the Mutual Musicians Foundation, housed in an old musicians' union building, jazz greats hold public jam sessions into the wee hours most every weekend night.

A bit farther down 18th Street is another heritage stop, the original Arthur Bryant's BBQ, which dates to 1927 and a period in K.C. history when 18th and Vine, thanks to segregation, was the epicenter of K.C. black culture. Fluorescent lighting, Formica tabletops, linoleum floors, a faded Kansas City Chiefs flag on the wall: the place is so jointy that you don't dare ask why its heavenly brisket sandwiches are served on Wonder bread. (It's a tradition, they tell us, to our wonderment.) Similarly, one never asks the people at Gates Bar-B-Q, another local institution with multiple locations in town, why they cook their french fries in lard. Then again, one never has time to ask any questions whatsoever.

"HI, MAY I HELP YOU?!" scream the women behind the counter at the Gates on Main Street, where you have precisely 1.5 seconds to shout back your order before they brand you hopeless and move on to the next customer. That is part of the restaurant's shtick (the phrase "Hi, may I help you" appears everywhere on the menu), but the barbecue itself is no gimmick. The fries approach the Platonic ideal (hat tip, lard!), but don't overlook the barbecued mutton, sausage and sauces of various heat and intensity.

Also on the list of dishes not to be missed: Gates's Yummy Yammer pie, a sweet potato tartlet that you'll unconvincingly pretend to have no room for before you devour it in three bites.

* * *

Saturday morning, and at last it's time for the trek west. The ribs have been smoking for hours at Broken Arrow park, site of the annual Lawrence Sertoma Cook-off, where 48 teams are today competing in four categories: chicken, ribs, brisket and pork. On the far side of a vast lawn is the Munchin' Hogs RV, the Munchin' Hogs smoker and, bouncing between the two, a force of nature known as Rob Magee. The 45-year-old works as a chef at the Hilton at the K.C. airport when not barking orders at his award-winning team, speaking a language only they understand (e.g., "We're on rib time," "These are two intenseends," "Who's doing au jus?").

Magee has lived in lots of places -- Dallas, Denver, Charlotte -- and sought out a site-specific adrenaline rush in every city he has called home: water skiing, trout fishing, professional motocross. So what does any self-respecting, thrill-seeking, Type A sort do when his career takes him to Kansas City?

"Window starts in one minute!" Magee calls out, referring to the 10-minute period during which teams must deliver their entries to the judges. He has just artfully placed a set of chicken thighs on a bed of lettuce leaves in a plastic-foam box (entries are judged on presentation as well as taste and texture); fellow Hog Richie Allen grabs the package and fast-walks it to the judges' table.

Suddenly there is silence.

"I think Kansas City's the hidden jewel among cities," says Magee, wiping his brow and taking a breather before turning his attention to the ribs, which are due at the judges' table in 30 minutes. Thomas Howe, a Lawrence real estate broker and co-chair of today's barbecue contest, saunters over, adding that he certainly doesn't miss the "slightly raised ambient tension level" of Rhode Island, which he long ago abandoned for the crazy-calm combo that is Lawrence, crazy because it's the home of the University of Kansas, calm because, well, it's Kansas.

* * *

The Munchin' Hogs' chicken, ribs and brisket are all matchless, at least to this taster, but in the end it is not to be. Today, when the mayor of Lawrence hands out the ribbons and prize money, the grand champion will be . . . Four Men and a Pig, an Olathe, Kan.-based team that Magee had identified earlier as a top competitor. The Munchin' Hogs place third.

The Hogs are certainly gracious in defeat, but the atmosphere is one of barely concealed disappointment, an atmosphere, we note, normally associated with our vinyl tablecloth and yours, not Magee's. The difference of course is that: (1) The Hogs' barbecue is actually excellent and, more important, (2) the Hogs don't take it personally.

"It just wasn't our day today," says Magee, shrugging his shoulders as he scrapes the smoker clean. "But you don't give up. You can't. You just have to refine your processes."

You hear that? Buck up. You don't just stop barbecuing. Yes, you've produced your share of incinerated cow carcasses and petrified chickens. We all have. Sure, your present efforts don't so much resemble food as the work of a backyard arsonist. But this is barbecue we're talking about. Barbecue. Surrender is not an option.*

*Unless, of course, you are able to regularly steal away to Kansas City. In which case, surrender immediately and without incident.

th Cap'm


Subject: BE CAREFUL WHERE YA DUMP YER TRASH
Date:
Tuesday, June 16, 2009 6:42 PM

Saturday nite in th saloon we were treated to a rather comical show. Becuz of th Waldo Crawl I spose, there was hardly anybody in th joint. So th front door was open giving a nice view of th street.

While were sittin there th doorman alerted us to a guy across th street who was dumpin his garbage outta his van in th parking lot there. Right in th middle of it. Th doorman yelled at th guy but th guy jus flipped im off and yelled somethin back but we couldn't hear what he said. When th perp had thrown 3 or 4 bags outta his van, he got back in and pulled off drivin right over his litter, but as he did so, we could hear glass crunchin and breakin and before th dude got to th exit, his left front tire had gone flat. You could plainly hear it flappin, y'know, that sound flat tires make! Yep!! Thas right! As he was leavin, runnin over his own garbage, he had slit his tire. Ha ha KARMA, eh! So, 5 or 6 of us stepped outside and we all jeered and whistled and gave im a hearty round of applause. He didn't much care for that.... and once again he was with th flippin of th finger! Ha ha I mean, th dude was reely pissed! Which jus made th whole situation all that more amusin. I mean, there's nothin quite so gratifyin as seein some prick gettin exactly what he deserves, eh?!

We watched with some amusement, while he called a friend fer help and after his buddy arrived, they both caught plenty of shit fer th next 30 minutes. There was more than one, "you stupid fucks" sent in their direction. Ha ha Well like I said, it was a slow night and kicks were hard to come by. Ya gotta take what ya can get, y'know what I mean! Y'know, right off hand, it's a safe bet to say, that if he had it to do over again, he would have at least found some one's dumpster to unload his trash in, instead of dumpin it in th middle of a parkin lot! We can only hope th stupid fuck learned a lesson, but ....SIGH..... with assholes of his ilk, prolly Not! Dumb fucks like him jus go on bein dumb fucks fer th rest of their lives!

th Cap'm


Subject: POTPOURRI
Date:
Saturday, June 13, 2009 3:29 PM

Subject: It's about time!

OK, I'll just say it,

"I'm Homo Sapien and Proud of it!"

Really, I think we're the best Species of all. I mean, seriously, would you rather be a duck? Huh? Nah, me either! They don't have Big Whoppers fer ducks, geese, drakes, etc. What about a platypus? Uh uh, no I don't think so! I could go on with other examples, but I think ya get my point, don'cha? And so, since we have days set apart to honor and otherwise acknowledge certain peoples, events, causes, etc, y'know like, "Talk like a Pirate day" or "Independence Day", or "Fire Awareness Day" and lotsa other days like that, I think it's time we set aside a day to honor our own bad selves! We'll call it,

NATIONAL HOMO SAPIEN DAY

We'll have parades and picnics, BBQ's, get drunk and stoned. drink toasts to ourselves, get into brawls, y'know, th same kinda things we do to celebrate on those other days. Whadda'ya think?
________________________________

Subject: Those service people who make ya wait, while they handle a personal phone call. Or, while yer standin there at th bank, or th auto supply store, whatever, and in th middle of yer transaction, th person waitin on ya gets a phone call, and promptly starts takin care of them, and leaves you still standin there, waitin.

Fuck that! Godammit, I'm standin right there, IN PERSON, and th sales person waitin on me, interrupts my business transaction, to take care of somebody on th fuckin phone! Then.....when they're finished with them, they come back and say,

"Sorry bout that! Now, where were we?"

And you say,

"Well, you were getting ready to ring up my sale, remember?! I'm th person standin right here in front of ya, who you were takin care of BEFORE that phone call!"

From here on, in my own special crusade against this practice, every time some body pulls this stunt on me, I'm gonna ask for th manager, th boss, whatever, y'know, somebody in charge, and give em back th merchandise that I had planned on buyin and tell em,

"Fuck you! Put this stuff back on th shelves, or stick it up yer ass. I don't care, cuz I'm gonna go and spend my money some place where they treat me with respect and give a shit bout my business."

Course y'know, while that might make me feel a bit better, th fact of th matter is; Nothin is gonna change!! Cuz, when it gets right down to it, those peoples really couldn't care less where ya spend yer money! Ain't no skin off their nose!
____________________________

Subject: th Warning

Have ya ever noticed that when ever ya call a company, any company, it doesn't matter who it is, or what time of th day or night, the month, whatever; ya always get a recorded message saying something like this,

"Due to unusually heavy traffic we are experiencing at this time, your call may take longer to connect."

You will get this message or something similar every time you call, whether you call at 3:00AM or 1:00 PM, Sheeit! Myself I think it's bullshit. I mean, y'know, are there ever any times when they're not experiencing heavy traffic? Thas jus to let ya know, that ya might as well sit back, cus yer gonna be waitin fer a while before anybody's gonna speak with ya! But it's not cuz they won't spend th money to hire enuff peoples..... no, no, it's juz cuz of th heavy volume. Yeah right!
____________________________

Subject: What's in a a name?

I spose we all have read about Ishmael and his adventures on th Pequod and Capt. Ahab's quest fer th great white whale, but I'm wonderin; should we read anything into th whale's name? MOBY DICK! Where did Melville come up with that?
____________________________

My amigo, Stag Fury writes me that he seems to notice Rush Limbaugh usin th same body language as A. Hitler. Th flake reely does get to wavin his arms around and gets reely agitated don't he, while he raves on about Obama's "Plan To Ruin America!" But what I noticed most is; that nervous tic of his; tuggin on his tent. Watch him. Every 15 seconds or so, he will pull on his tent, y'know, like ya do, when it's hot and yer shirt is clingin to ya. Ya might have gotten confused by my use of th word 'tent", but that's what it takes to encompass all that blubber. A shirt jus wouldn't do th trick! Nah, not enuff material!

Th thing is tho, y'see, that ordinary peoples, regular Homo Sapiens,do that to their shirts when it's hot and th shirt is clingin to em. But seein as how they pay that loony fuckin goofball 25 million bucks a year to spew out his garbage to th garbage collectors of America, I reely kinda doubt that it's hot there in th broadcasting booth, y'know what I mean. Like....th temperature in Rush's booth is..... what everth hell Rush wants th temperature to be! So then... what's with all th tuggin? Well, what th hell, whadda'ya expect....th Great White Whale is jus jonesin fer his next hit of Oxycontin! We all been thruthat...haven't we?!

th cap'm


Subject:THE INSANE POSSE CREW
Date:
Friday, June 12, 2009 5:01 AM

That would be Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Dick Cheney, Michelle Bachman and rounding out our Rogues List, of course the lovely Sarah Palin. All five of these creatures should be confined somewhere, in steel cages, where they could not harm others or themselves. A place where they could all be water-boarded several times a day, if for no other reason, than to just to keep boredom at bay. After all, it's no big deal, this water boarding. A mildly unpleasant experience. Nothing more than an enhanced interrogation technique.

Just a short time ago, Hannity, in a moment of false bravado, in order to demonstrate the harmlessness of this procedure, offered to be water boarded himself for charity. But of course, being Sean Hannity, chicken-shit, punk-assed mutherfucker that he is, has yet to follow thru on his hollow, bullshit boast. Probably especially so, since "Mancow" Mueller (former local radio host) actually did so, and made it perfectly clear that this was TORTURE! And he was a guy who had loudly and consistently made light of all the fuss over water boarding saying it was much ado about nothing. But after lasting less than 7 seconds, he came bolting up, staggering and sputtering, gasping for breath and said in no uncertain terms, that it was nothing other than Torture. Beyond any doubt. No other word for it.

Imagine enduring that procedure six times a day for a month, which was what one guy went thru! And Sean said he would do it. Sheeit! I wish he would. I would personally donate some money to a charity to see the bastard water boarded, if for no other reason than to shut him up for a few seconds.

Limbaugh and Michelle Bachman are both just Insane. There is no other possible explanation for their utterances. They inhabit some other Universe. They're just fucking nuts, that's all!
Dick Cheney is a classic case of Megalomania. Nothing more need be said there.

And Sarah Palin is just a person, dragged out of anonymity, by forces beyond her control, into a situation she was not prepared or equipped to handle. But..... having been in the lime light, and believing the crap she was told, now believes it herself and is now reluctant to give it all up and go back to just being Governor of Alaska up there.

Sheeit, with fucking cretins like this representing them and speaking for them, it's no wonder the Repubs were swept out of power by a landslide. And if Newt Gingrich is their next, best hope, Ha ha, oh mercy, but it's going to be a long time before they get a shot at running things again. As bad as they fucked this country up over the last eight years, they don't deserve another chance any way. They're going to go the way of the Dodo bird and that's jsut fine with me!

th Cap'm


Subject: RE: THE SHOOTING AT THE HOLOCAUST MUSEUM
Date:
Friday, June 12, 2009 3:41 AM

Damn, but all this shit gets confusing. This fucking, certifiably insane nutball, fearing that Obama was coming to take his assault rifles and rocket propelled grenades away from him, (as guaranteed by the Constitution) goes to the Holocaust Museum to wreak havoc on the Jews. He leaves behind a note haranguing Obama and his Jewish Masters, blaming them for every thing wrong in the world. All part of a Master Jewish Plan, don'cha know!

Oh, but wait, what's going on here? I'm getting confused. I thought the scoop on Obama was; that he was a black, non-American, Jewish hating, Muslim President, keen on invading Israel because they are rumored to have nuclear weapons, (snicker, snicker) bowing in supplication to his Arab Masters, and bent on turning the USA into a Third World Socialist garbage dump? So.......pray tell, what is he? A Jewish puppet? Or, an Arab stooge? I wish those Repubs and their loony Neo-Con brothers would make up their minds.

th Cap'm


Subject: LOOSE PARK DUCK HAS BAD LUCK
Date:
Thursday, June 11, 2009 1:57 PM

Earlier today, I was drivin past Loose Park when I happened to notice an injured duck. One of his wing appendages seemed to be askance. I immediately threw my vehicle into a controlled four wheel drift and skidded to a stop mere feet away from him. I leaped out, and retrieved my Duck Tape (which I always carry with me jus fer such emergencies) from th trunk, and proceeded to administer to him by way of wrappin him up from his duckbill to his webbed duck feet.

When I finished, I stood him up on his feet, but he promptly fell over on his side, now obviously unable to maintain his balance. He looked so pathetic............ this silver clad duck there..... out of his element, so I picked him up and tossed him back into th pond, whereupon he capsized! His tail rose up in th air, and he slowly began to sink, and shortly thereafter, his duck stern dipped below the surface and there was nothing left but a wisp of a ripple to indicate he had ever been there.

Well, I was quite dismayed at th outcome of my actions, cuz altho they were altruistic, the results were rather tragic., eh. So, in an effort to enhance my mood, and becuz I didn't have any drugs on me at th time, I did th next best thing; I ordered a hot dog from a vendor. It was a very tasty dog. Obviously a high quality all beef frank, seared to perfection on a warm fresh bun, with jus th right combination of mustard to onion, and I stood there eatin, watchin bubbles breakin th surface from time to time. As I finished my snack, I waited a few more seconds before departing. I didn't want to seem callous and leave while his lasts gasps were still evident. It would have appeared rather unseemly, don'cha think?

In retrospect, I can only hope, that, as that unfortunate fowl was descendin to the bottom, his last thought was,

"At least he meant well"

no doubt followed by, "That Fucking Moron!"

And y'know, what is somewhat ironic about this whole affair is, my heretofore not well known bird background. Y'see, I...... am a former "bird watcher". Thas right. In my early childhood I was a "bird watcher". I considered myself to be an amateur ornithologist. Instead of playin ball after school with th rest of th crew, I was silently sneakin thru th woods, ever alert, lookin fer that special sighting. Hey, and y'know what, bein a "bird watcher" wasn't an easy gig back in th early ‘50s. Th other dudes on th block didn't think very highly of it, and I had to stand up fer "bird watchers" every where. In th process, I acquired a number of black eyes defendin my craft. Ha ha Sometimes folk will say to me,

"Captain, jus whut th hail is a "bird watcher" anyways?"

To which I reply,

"This is a 'Person who Watches Birds', usually by means of a pair of binoculars."

Altho th binoculars are not absolutely mandatory, they do suggest a certain air of authenticity and they also enhance th experience greatly. Much of th allure is in th details, y'dig! Now...... as to what would motivate a person to watch birds through a pair of binoculars, is not so easily explainable. I spose there are certain elements of, "peeping tomism", there huh? Who knows? Perhaps The Shadow could explain it to ya! He knows!

th Cap'm

P.S. Some of my contacts on th street tell me that "birding", as it's referred to today, is th most popular hobby of all. It would seem that, once again, th Cap'm was waay ahead of th flock, so to speak. In th vanguard! Demonstrating to others how to Chill, and enjoy Life and one's surroundings. Course, that was also before I discovered th Joys of Drugs too!!


Subject: Excitement At City Hall
Da
te: Sunday, June 7, 2009 11:58 PM

Yesterday, I was watching a City Council Legislative meeting of June 2nd, called "A City That Works Meeting". Whew Brother! Some real scintillating and entertaining TV. But anyway, Jeff Yates, the chief Financial Officer was giving a presentation called, "A Business Friendly City — A Comprehensive Approach to Creating A Business Conductive City Hall." This was shown on the screen, a kind of visual presentation of what he was saying, like a slide-show.

As he spoke, the screen changed to paraphrase what he had just said. When he got to the , "Earnings Tax Initiative" this came up on the screen, while he said it, "An earnings tax process that is fare, simple, and balances the needs of the citizens as well as the city."

Ha ha By the way, that is typed exactly as it appeared on the screen; that is not a typo. I guess it's no big deal, if whoever wrote that doesn't know the difference in meaning between the words "fair" and "fare". And neither the Mayor nor the City Counselor noticed, or just as possibly, they didn't know the difference either! I mean, we are talking Mayor Funkhouser here! Sheeit! Don't ever let anybody tell you that we don't have some real sharpies in City Government!

Myself, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that enough of the recall signatures necessary for our Mayors removal, holds up in court. It would b a shame if we had to, as Emperor Hirohito so aptly put it, "Endure the Unendurable" for two more years of their Incompetence, Arrogance, and political naivete. What in the fuck were we thinking when we put-those two Bozos in office. I think we ought to go with, "collective temporary Insanity."

th Cap'm


Subject: RE: Ghost Riders
Date:
Saturday, June 6, 2009 6:41 PM

Oooops. Dammit, just a few minutes ago I watched some U-tube versions of Ghost Riders, and uh, well, it seems that my vision of how a video of that song could be done is, uhm, well, what I'm tryin to say is, it's already been done. Ha ha

Evidently, there was nothin new or original in what I proposed. Sheiit, if I'd been operatin outta my Webtv system, I woulda never known that. Now I see what they mean when they say, "Ignorance is Bliss". JGH

th Cap'm


Subject: ONE OF MY ALL-TIME FAVORITE SONGS
Date:
Saturday, June 6, 2009 6:13 PM

Last nite in th saloon I heard a version of, "Ghost Riders In The Sky" by Johnny Cash. I have always loved that song. I remember hearin early versions of it back in th late ‘40s and early ‘50s by Vaughn Monroe and Frankie Layne. And I've been diggin it ever since by so many peoples. It's been done by over a hundred artists since then, includin Bing Crosby, Gene Autry, Bob Dylan, Dean Martin, the Ventures, Duane Eddy, the Kingston Trio, Gene Pitney, Peggy Lee, Marshall Tucker, Johnny Horton, Marty Robbins, Burl Ives, John Denver, Dick Dale and the Dell-Tones, the Doors, Elvis Presley, and a whole slew of other peoples too numerous to mention, sheeit, even Lawrence Welk and Slim Whitman did a version. Here's th lyrics

An old cowpoke went riding out
One dark and windy day,
Upon a ridge he rested as
He went along his way,

When all at once a mighty herd
Of red eyed cows he saw,
A-plowin' through the ragged skies
And up a cloudy draw.

Yippee-yi-ya, yippee-yi-yo,
Ghost herd in the sky.

Their brands were still on fire and
Their hooves were made of steel,
Their horns were black and shiny and
Their hot breath he could feel,

A bolt of fear shot through him as
He looked up in the sky,
For he saw the riders comin' hard
And he heard their mournful cry:

Yippee-yi-ya, yippee-yi-yo,
Ghost riders in the sky.

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred,
Their shirts all soaked with sweat,
They're riding hard to catch that herd,
But they ain't caught 'em yet,

'cause they've got to ride forever on
That range up in the sky,
On horses snortin' fire, as
They ride on hear their cry:

Yippee-yi-ya, yippee-yi-yo,
Ghost riders in the sky.

The cowpokes loped on past him and
He heard one call his name,
If you want to save your soul from hell
A-riding on our range,

Then, cowboy, change your ways today,
Or with us you will ride,
A-trying to catch the devil's herd
Across these endless skies.

Yippee-yi-ya, yippee-yi-yo,
Ghost riders in the sky.


But ya know, ther's one person who I don't think has ever done it, but he should, is Tom Waits. I think Tom Waits could do th Ultimate Version. With that raspy, gravely voice, I can hear him doin it in my mind. Gives me chills every time I hear it. Ha ha And I think I could do a kick-ass video of it too. But I would change th herd of cattle to demon-eyed buffalo, snortin fire and smoke outta their nostrils, bein ridden by Cowboy skeletons, with red bandanas wavin their hats in that time honored cowboy fashion, and as they thundered across th sky, they would be greeted by th howlin of wolves at their passin.

Some body oughta take Tom aside sometime and whisper in his ear,
"Pssst, hey yo, Tom, whatta ya think bout doin Ghost Riders one time? Yer version will be awesome dude! And th Capm's got some ideas fer th video too!"

Yeah, yeah, I know, a fool and his dream are soon parted, but still.......

th cap'm

P.S. And speakin of Slim Whitman, years ago, it's interestin to note that I used to be th Treasurer of th Slim Whitman Fan Club. This was back in th mid-‘80s if I remember correctly. At that time, late nite TV was inundated with Slim Whitman commercials, and fer some ungodly reason, quien sabe, we embraced his high pitched, yodeling sound. There were about 20-25 of us. We had T-shirts printed up and met every Sunday out at Walsh's Corner Cocktail, 85th and Wornall, where we had put several of his works on th juke box. Other peoples around were mystified as to our fondness fer Slim, and made quietly derisive remarks about it, but quietly as I say, cuz we didn't have much tolerance fer non-Slim Whitman fans. As I recall, we referred to em as, "Infidels". As Treasurer, it was my responsibility to collect money from th various members, but since no one ever felt like payin any dues, our coffers were empty, so several of us were plannin a spectacular fund raisin event. We were goin to build a delta-winged bobsled and take it off th 90-meter jump in Aspen. As Treasurer my job was to have been in charge of our glide path, so as to enhance th survival rate of all th team members when we landed. But, once again, our dreams of th 90-meter jump and our subsequent rise to fame and fortune, like so many other projects, never came to fruition. SIGH!


Subject: RE: THE SPEED OF LIGHT
Date:
Saturday, June 6, 2009 4:25 PM

Did'ja ever stop to think about th speed of light? I'll bet if ya asked, most peoples would tell ya that light travels at 186,000 MPS (miles per second) or 669,600,000 miles per hour. Thas pretty fast, eh? Einstein sez nothin can go any faster! It's th ultimate speed.

What I'm wonderin is, jus how accurate that figure is? Could th figure actually be say, fr'instance, 186,452 MPS? I mean, how did they measure that speed? Did they use a large tape measure and walk it off.....or did they put a radar gun on a beam of light, or what? Like, how would ya do that? That strikes me as a rather difficult task huh!

Or was it all done mathematically? And if so, do ya have th formula handy? I'm curious!

th Cap'm


Subject: DINING OUT IN TH HOOD
Date:
Thursday, June 4, 2009 2:34 PM

I live in an area which makes it real convenient fer me if I should get hongry and decide to eat out, rather than indulge in my own prepared foods. But why pray tell, would a person of my culinary savvy and acumen wanna eat any where but in my very own kitchen? Ha ha It's silly isn't it! That jus don't make any sense at all. But if I did decide to, there are so many places within close proximity to me.

Like, these places are all within two blocks of my crib, and were I of that kinda bent, I could easily walk to any one of them, but then again, fuck, why should I do that? Walk? Fuck that! Thas why I own an automobile, so's I don't have to walk any where.... any more..... any time! Like, about ten years ago, I used to live right across th street from this very same CVS Pharmacy, (at that time it was a Piggly Wiggly) but, still, when I wanted somthin, I got in my car and drove across their parking lot, instead of walkin! Yeah, yeah, I know, it was only a couple hundred feet (maybe) but Sheeit, I spent too many years when I didn't have a car.... walkin.... staggerin....stumblin...hitchhikin... bummin rides, etc. I jus said,

"Fuck that walkin crap! I don't gotta do that no more, cuz I gots me a car now and......I'M GONNA RIDE!!"

So, today, if I should decide to eat at one of these joints...one thing is.....I don't gotta drive very far!! Check em out!

"Pizza 51", good, inexpensive pizza. (I think this place used to be on a secret AFB in Nevada).

"Big Muddy's", a coffee and sandwich shop. Caters to th student population of UMKC.

"Kim Lin's", since we buy everything else from China, we might as well buy our foods from there too. If ya like Chinee, this is a good place to visit.

"Subway", ya know th score here.

"Osteria El Centro", a high end Eyetie joint.

"Minsky's Pizza", good and inexpensive pizza, been around now fer about 40 years.

"Eggs Cetera", specializes in breakfast meals mainly.

"Andre's", great place fer th blue-haired set to scarff down some confectionaries and croissants.

"CVS Pharmacy", comes in handy when all ya need is a jar of peanut butter.

"The Peanut" bar and grille. Their wings and BLT are hard to beat.

"Accurso's", great Italian Eatery.

"The Spin", high end pizza, kinda expensive, but excellent.

"Station 32", another pizza joint, located in what used to be Fire Station # 32. I haven't tried it but have been told not to waste my time.

"Planet Sub", immigrated here from Lawrence a few years ago. About as good as it gets fer subs, and el cheapo too.

"The Mixx", high end sandwich and coffee shop.

"Chipotle", pretty decent burritos fer a chain-type operation.

"Bo Ling's", some of the best Chinese in town, but ya will need some pockets full of cash, American, pleese!

So, if ya ever find yerself in my hood, and ya gotta hankerin to eat, especially if ya like pizza and Italian, yer in Luck!

th Cap'm


Subject: THE BANK GETS FRIENDLY
Date:
Wednesday, June 3, 2009 4:27 PM

Hmmmm, jus a few minutes ago, I got a card from US Bank, where I conduct my big-time money transactions. This is th same crew of mutherfuckers who recently charged me $105.00 for overdrafts on three checks totalin $57.00. Talk about a rip-off!

Today however, I got a handwritten note from Ms. Kia, a young black gurl who works th drive-in window, thankin me for stoppin by on Monday to make a deposit. She noted what a pleasure it is doin usiness with me and said she was lookin forward to our next transaction, th note, "With warmest regards".

Sheeit! All I can say is; Obama must given them a shitload of money, cuz no bank has ever sent me a handwritten note from one of their tellers before. What th fuck is goin on here? I dunno, like, do ya think Kia sat down and sent a note like that toeveryone who she waited on that day.....OR.... is she hittin on me?

th Cap'm


Subject: SPECIAL TREAT FROM CAP'M DRECK, CULINARY WHIZ
Date:
Tuesday, June 2, 2009 2:38 PM

Y'know, earlier today I was havin a baked potato and I was usin some of my own personal seasonings on it. Well anyway, I added some black pepper also, because I always add
black pepper to jus about everything I eat. And also olives. Don't ferget th olives! Ya can't go wrong with peppers and olives cuz they go well with jus about everything. So... as I was sprinklin th black pepper on, it triggered a memory of an incident that occurred some years back. It happened like this.

I was in this place havin ordered some pancakes. When th waitress set them on the table, I
asked her if I could get a side of olives. She found this amusin evidently cuz she giggled. I
said.

"No, really, could I have some olives?"

She said they were unavailable with breakfast, but then she asked me why I wanted olives with pancakes?

I replied, "Cuz thas how I roll, OK?!"

I mean, what kinda crap is this? What th hell difference does it make whether it's breakfast, or not. Sheeit! While we were havin this conversation, I was in th midst of preparin my pancakes by applyin th syrup, and then I started addin th salt and pepper. When she saw me puttin th
pepper on my pancakes, she giggled again and said,

"What are you doing?"

I said. "Well, I'm not playin hop-scotch sweetie! What does it look like I'm doin?"

She said, "Well I've just never seen anyone put pepper on their pancakes before."

And I was getting a little exasperated so I said, kinda sarcastic-like,

"Yeah, that figures! And you've probably never eaten Chihuahua Chili before either, have you?"

She wasn't quite sure she heard me correctly, I guess, cuz she said,

"I don't think so. What goes in it?"

"Well, Chihuahua! For one" I replied.

Again, she seemed a bit bewildered, and with a bit of hesitancy, she asked,

"You mean, like a little Chihuahua dog?"

"Thas right!" I said, "Now yer catchin on!"

And she frowned and wrinkled her nose and gave me what you would call a strange look I suppose, and said,

"Enjoy your meal."

and went away, and after that, I didn't get much by way of attentive service. Any more. At all. I did see her talkin to th other waitresses and they were all lookin over in my direction, givin me th 'hard eye'! I can only guess what that was all about. Gourmet Rookies! Hrumph!

By the way, in case yer interested, in the Nov. '89 issue of OMNI magazine, th well known
Pet Gourmet, Russell Jones, shares his recipe for Chihuahua Chili. Should ya be entertainin friends and are lookin for that special dish, one that will leave yer guests talkin bout yer dinner fer a long time, I will be glad to send you his recipe. Chef Jones warns however, that,

"A Chihuahua will try everything from putting it's tail between it's legs and shivering, to staring you down with large, oil-puddle eyes. But fight back the tears. Remember..... a chef's gotta do what a chef's gotta do!"

Sound advice indeed! Well, I must be off and about my business. Gut appetit!

the Cap'm


Subject: RE: TH CAP'MS DISHWASHING TIP
Date:
Tuesday, June 2, 2009 2:56 PM

My amigo, Joe D, who is with th EPA wrote me th followin.

"Charley,
Funny you should notice that... I've been doing oil spill response for many years now. Dawn soap has always been the standard for cleaning up oiled wildlife (ducks, otters, and such).
Just FYI... See the site below.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1275757/endangered_wildlife_and_dawn_dish_soap.html

Joseph Davis"

Aw'right, so kids, ya'll might wanna keep this in mind th next time ya encounter a well-oiled duck!

th Cap'm


Subject: A TIP FROM DISHWASHING GURU CAP'M DRECK
Date:
Tuesday, June 2, 2009 1:36 PM

It was a dark and rainy night....but...so what! Forget that, it's immaterial to our story and beside th point. Th point is....... there was a news story about a truck which had overturned in Cleveland, Ohio, spillin a load of grease all over th highway, forcin th authorities to close th road. They evidently tried everything to clean it up, but, alas, all their efforts were to no avail. This went on fer several days. Finally, th peoples at DAWN, hearin of their plight, donated $12,500 worth of dishwashing soap and th road was cleaned up and they all lived happily ever after. So y'see boyz n gurlz, sometimes, tragedies do end up with a happy ending.

I read this account in the paper, while in th Sun Fresh Market, jus prior to doing some shopping and, quite by co-incidence, It jus so happened that dishwashing soap was on my list, so, but of course, I picked up some Dawn instead of th usual DOVE. Look!!....... I figure.... if it will clean up a highway, it should be able to take care of my dishes. Verdad? And, I am pleased to report, it does! And quite nicely. thank you.

So............th next time you are standin in front of th dishwashing section of th store, tryin to decide....... what kind of dishwashin product to buy?... remember this,

"DAWN CLEANS UP HIGHWAYS!!! IT WILL CLEAN YOUR DISHES TOO!"

Repeat this several times to your own damn bad self. Then, go ahead and make yer decision. Good Luck. I know you'll do th right thing. LaTi-DaTi-DI.... LaTi-DaTi-DA! And th beat goes on.

th Cap'm

P.S. A late Cinco de Mayo Message: chant after me, NO TACOS! NO PEACE! NO JUSTICE!..... NO TACOS! NO PEACE! NO JUSTICE! .......NO TACOS! NO PEACE! NO JUSTICE!