Suddenly he was on fire.

Once again, more from the first ten years.

So many tear drops falling from my eye… eyes.
We Los Angeles Okies had a limited eating repertoire. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes just to suggest two Okie entrees out of a possibility of two. Not to mention gallons of milk and purple Koo lade.
But, Boy Howdy, my oldest sister Peggy was most resourceful with providing restaurant reviews for we Okie folk long before it became popular in the newspapers. Beating out the food reviewers of the New York and L A Times back in the 1950s.
None the less, being my only sibling with her own money she started sampling eateries when she was in high school. Peg talked about Mexican and Chinese food and her favorite, pasta or Italian.
But when her earning power began to grow with babysitting and later promoted to ticket seller at the UA theater on Whittier boulevard in East L A she began her early career of restaurant reviewer for we Okies. .
However, while in high school she often mentioned a cool place called Rod’s Hamburgers at the corner of Wilcox and Whittier boulevard. Just a short walk south from the school. What’s a hamburger? A sandwich thing I had never tried. A round bun-like bread with a ground beef patty and a pickle with a drizzle of catsup. All in one big stack. I liked it.
So as often as we could afford it we managed to buy a few burgers and sometimes with French fries.
Never the less, the only time available to drive five miles to Rod’s Hamburgers was on Sunday night. Sunday night after Sunday evening church services. The added incentive was Rod’s would sell us Okies six burgers for a buck. But the real motivation going to Rod’s was we kids endless whining and begging. And my dad’s stern farmer boy upbringings would cave in just to shut-up we kids.
Before we continue on, let me give you a picture of Rod’s hamburger joint. The joint was about a total of four-hundred square feet. As soon as you enter the place you are facing an order counter with cash register and other counter items. If you go to the right or left there was counter space to eat with three or four stools to sit. Behind the order counter was the kitchen divided by a shoulder high wall separating the ordering area and the kitchen. High above the opening to the kitchen was a drawn caricature of Rod himself with a tiny body with both hands holding jalapeno peppers. I wonder if all this is still there. Mostly likely not. Probably a Walgreens or Seven/eleven.
But one of our most memorable trips to Rod’s Hamburgers was when my dad and I went in to place our order for a bag of burgers one Sunday evening. So, sitting on the counter top near the register was a four-gallon glass wide mouth jar filled with pickled peppers with metal lid. Conveniently located nearby and tied to a thick cotton string was a pair of metal tongs. Making it easy to reach in and get your peppers and not make off with the tongs.
So, we gave the guy our order. But while standing there my dad decided to reach in with the tongs and pick out a pickle pepper. Then he popped the entire pickle pepper into his mouth and started to chew. A sudden moment of silence occurred, tears started to stream from his squinted eyes, and a big “Boy Howdy” came to his burning lips. Never mind the six-foot 200-pound strong Okie man. Eternal fire was erupting inside. Tears continued to flow. So much for macho man on Sunday night. Yessir, boy howdy. “Get those burgers and let’s get out of here. Where’s my hanky?”