Buc-ee's

Well, I did a thing. Yesterday morning after leaving a customer pickup call I stopped at the Buc-ee's in Huber Heights, Ohio. I've heard a lot about them, so, why not?

It was impressive but not life changing. Nowhere near, in fact. I had half expected that, from what I've heard of folks losing their minds over Buc-ee's. Indeed I've read that travelers in the U.S. for the World Cup soccer tournament are making special trips to see the combination gas station/stores. 

Really? I mean, it was cool, and it's hard not be impressed with their selection of food and snacks. But to make an excursion out of it strikes me as absurd. To be blunt, how much choice do you need that you elect to go out of your way for it?

Still, the food and drink choices were astounding in variety, although glaringly noticeable was the lack of choice in coffee. I thought the hot food on the expensive side, and as there was no seating area I declined to try any, satisfied with a later sit down breakfast at good old Cracker Barrel. 

If you want Buc-ee's souvenirs and apparel, you'll certainly get that. Yet the most outstanding thing I found were the gas prices. At $3.39 a gallon, it was the best I've seen lately. 

So I'll keep Buc-ee's mind, and I certainly won't turn my nose up at it. But it's overblown. At the end of the day, it's just a fancy gas station/department store.

Dietary temptresses

Tuesday morning I had to go to Gaylord, Michigan. I stopped at Birch Run just past Flint to grab a bite to eat, thinking I would go to Tony's Restaurant. You get a pound - that's right, one pound - of bacon with every meal. Yes, that sounded good. Eggs and toast and hash browns and all that nice salty bacon. Then I reminded myself I was under orders to cut down drastically on my salt intake.

Cue the Homer Simpson moan of total despair. Oooooooooooooh. So I went into a nearby Tim Horton's and ordered a dry, toasted bagel and a bottle of water. Those who know me know that that alone required an act of supreme will: Marty simply does not go into Timmy's and not leave without an extra large black coffee. Yet as I had burned my coffee quota before I was barely out of Detroit, water would have to do.

Yesterday morning I had to go to Springfield, Ohio on business. I was meeting my friend Mark for breakfast at the local Cracker Barrel. What would I have: the double meat breakfast with sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs, and biscuits and gravy? Or do I opt for the Uncle Herschel's, with hash brown casserole, biscuits and gravy, and a big slab of hickory smoked cured ham steak?

Heavy sigh. I had a bowl of oatmeal and a muffin.

Heading home up US 68, I thought of this Amish store north of Bellfontaine. It's a neat little store with Amish furniture and Amish arts and crafts. Plus it has an impressive food section, where among other delights of the palate you can buy absolutely the best chocolate covered raisins on Earth. I mean, these things put Raisinets to shame; I decided I'd stop in and buy some. You can eat them like potato chips.

Like. Potato. Chips. Another snack I can't have with any regularity. And these raisins are a double whammy: caffeine and processed sugar are in milk chocolate. So I drove past the Amish store. But I swear it gave me a sly wink and a come hither look as I went by. I didn't know anything Amish could do that.

Yes, I know it's for my own good. But right now, today, this new diet is just harshin' my buzz, dude.

What facebook told me on this very day

Hey Pops,

I rolled out of bed at 1:30 this morning to go to the plant, as you had done for so many years and we had done together far too little. I ran through the shower and had a shave to wake myself fully, then thought I'd check my e-mail and facebook right quick before I left. In its 'On This Day' reminder feature it had me remember that three years ago today you had had your surgery. Dang it facebook, you can be a jerk sometimes.

Well by then I had to read my post asking for prayers, feeling sadder every second. Then of course I had to read the comments, well over 40 by the way, of friends promising prayers and comfort. And as I read those posts I actually began to feel better. I saw how many people were in your corner wanting the best for you, even a bunch who never met you. I saw too that there was a support system in place for old Marty. That same support system that got me through the difficult months which followed.

I logged off, and grabbed CDs by Tom T. Hall and Johnny Cash. I thought they'd make good listening today. Nothing like the Storyteller and the Man in Black when out on the highway, right? We sang a couple of their songs together as the dawn broke on route 68. Then I met Mark at the Cracker Barrel for breakfast and we told each other many of the tales you told us over the years. Coming back home I took a big order which I just happened to be able to fill with the stock I had picked up from the factory.

So it's ended up a pretty good day after all. I really can't wait for the next one.

Until then, see ya Pops.

PS: I think you better whisper something to Mom. She's on a fix it kick and carries a hammer everywhere she goes. And as they say, she's eyeing every problem like it's a nail.