Why is it so cold inside?

Summer’s Frost

Stepping out of our cool Honda and into the summer’s heat is almost a shock to the body. Since exiting our air-conditioned car and out into 90-plus degrees summer air. I begin to sweat almost instantaneously . Like a chilled glass of ice tea covered with condensation. Beads of sweat quickly formed and roll down my forehead once exposed to the outside summer’s air fryer. Certainly, makes one wished he or she stayed inside the chilled car and drive through McDonalds instead.
But no, we went inside the sit-down at the take our order table restaurant. My wife’s favorite Mexican eatery. Actually, I like it as well. Great chips and salsa.
We walk through the interim entrance and through another set of glass doors. Once inside something hits you again and Especially if wearing Bermuda shorts and a crew neck T-shirt. After shuffling inside, my legs and shoulders began to frost over due to the extreme climate switcheroo. From a blasting outside 90-degrees we are hit by, what seems like a 40-degree inside wall of frosty air. Why? Why is it so cold in here? Does the restaurant not have a walk-in freezer? Do they store their meats and spoilables on their counter top space? Man, this is freaking nuts. I’m freezing you guys!
But after a few moments adjusting to the restaurant’s artic air, it hits me why they do this. The restaurant kitchen has no separate A/C. But in order to force cool air into the kitchen from the dining room and into the food prep area the establishment’s manager must turn down the air in the main eating area with hopes the cool will eventually make its way into the boiling and broiling kitchen. High temp ovens, hot griddles, and stove tops working full forge. Sometimes it could get up to 110-degrees or most likely more.
Knowing all this my wife often chides me for wearing long pants and shirt when eating out in the heat of summer. Especially eating out at an eatery with north pole temperatures. And this same chilling climate exists in other full-service restaurants as well. “You folks enjoy your meal.”
It might be best to just do ‘Take out’ instead. Home is where the thermostat is. At least I can put on my hoody when needed. Pass the green chili sauce please.

I like my cornbread in a tall glass of buttermilk.

Meals on 4-wheels.
In our little town there are an over abundance of burrito food trucks. Plus, too many chicken and pizza trucks. None the less, where are the food trucks with the real food?
Because of the high population of college students here in our little town food trucks are cooking too much fast and mostly stupid foods. Get me a barf bag.
If I were a serious food truck entrepreneur, I would think local. The real foods of Oklahoma are brown beans and cornbread. Yes! The food real people eat. Of course, there are variations of CB and beans. Such as BBQ beans, chili with beans, smoked beans with jalapeno cornbread, and offer a variety of coleslaw. The offerings are endless. Just use your imagination. Plus, you could serve your Okie fare in a Beanymobile. Farmers from the adjacent five counties would come to our college town just to get their beans and cornbread fix. Where can I get an old airstream and paint it like a brown bean. This is way too exciting. Let’s get started! We could call it Beans on wheels. And of course, we could also serve a bean burrito.
Anybody with me on this?

Stay on your side of the car. You’re touching me.

Our August vacations 1950 to 1963.
Being the low man on the vacation totem pole my dad got his vacation time off in August. The hottest month of the year.
Most of our annual vacations were driving to Oklahoma from Los Angeles. This was pre-Interstate on the southern route going through Yuma through southern Arizona, southern New Mexico and southern Texas. Then head north crossing the Red River headed for Wilson, Oklahoma.
Sounds simple, right? Nope! We traveled just in time for monsoon season. Lots of rain, dust storms, lightening storms, and speeding tickets. Plus, we never had a car with air conditioning.

All of this was done in marathon fashion. We didn’t stop anywhere along the way. As they say, driving straight through with bug splatters on the windshield. Non-stop. Only time we stopped was for gas fill up, coffee, potty, and a nickel Coke. Then, zoom off we went. Got to get to Granny’s before Saturday night. We made one trip in a record 23-hours. Whew!

Boy howdy, that’s the biggest ice cube I’ve ever seen

How to chill out.
How to refrigerate anything without a refrigerator. my dad told me what his Mom’sfamily had done living back on the farm in the 1920s and 1930s southern rural Oklahoma.
. He said they used was an A-frame structure with burlap material draped down the frame. It was placed outside on their back Poarch. A pan of water was placed atop with tiny dripping holes. Allowing small amounts of water to soak down into the burlap and then the outside breezes would filter through the burlap and create an evaporative cooler effect. Inside the A-frame tent would be placed perishable foods but kept cool by water evaporation. How cool is that?
Way back when during one of our hot August road trips we would visit my aunt Minnie and uncle Warren in Wilson, Oklahoma. One of our activities when visiting, was to go into town and buy a 50-pound block of ice from the Wilson ice house. An ice house roustabout with clamping ice hooks came out to the edge of the ice house shipping dock and place a huge block of almost clear ice on the dock. Then my dad and older brother would man-handle the ice block and place into the trunk of our car. Then and finally, the fun part was getting the 50-pound block of ice into my aunt Minnie’s kitchen and place it in her non-electric ‘icebox.’ An insulated appliance with insulated door and heavy latch. Again, a place to store perishables and keep them cool. It was A structure with its own aura. Maybe Somewhat musty with a hint of mildew with a drip pan below.
Even in modern-day 1950s Los Angeles I recall rather large ice trucks coming down our residential streets with loads of ice to be delivered to those houses who still had an old-fashioned icebox. However, we had a Sears electric refrigerator. How cool was that.
Finally, when visiting my wife-to-b home town her family’s church met in an old abandoned ice house. Instead of a church steeple her church had a tall louvered water evaporating tower. How cool was that for sure.
Now to show how far we have come the new Google processing center east of Tulsa has dozens of louvered evaporative cooling towers. With access to a large volume of water the center can cool down hundreds of digital processors and keep the huge warehouse buildings down to a controlled 80-degrees. Now, that is cool. Right?

How they did it in the 1930s.

So, this is how it happened.

Ode to My Mom and Dad.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a big unexpected kiss on the lips. Then she responded, “now Carl you’re not supposed to do that. When my dad told me this I could only surmise my mom had never been kissed before.” Then I could also assume my dad thought he was a ‘movie matinee romantic’ and my mom thinking she would end up as an old maid for life who had never been kissed. Well surprise surprise. From then on the lover boy took charge.
After several weeks or months of dating, and some kissing, the two decided to get married. I’m almost certain my mom thought it not right to kiss each other without being married. And so, it happened one fine day.
They decided to meet out on the county road one Saturday morning then walk to town and ask the justice of the peace to marry them. Just the two of them walking. So here they were. He in his new seersucker pants with white dress shirt, his jet-black hair oiled back, and polished shoes and she in a flowery dress with a broad-brimmed straw hat. Off they went walking to town. Never mind town was about 12-miles down the dusty gravel road.
May 8, 1937 was there lucky day. Shortly after they began their ‘hand in hand’ marathon stroll, a neighbor in his soft top Buick sedan came along and offered them a ride to town. After hearing about their destination and intent, the kindly neighbor offered to act as witness to their ceremony as well. It doesn’t get any better than that. Dating, kissing, free ride to town, and marriage. Boy howdy y’all!

Book Report

Book Report
In these times of the 21st century the last couple of American generations might not have the knowledge of what Ellis Island was and what it represented. Even though many of our ancestors came through the federally operated point of entry and was processed into the United States in the early 20th century as incoming immigrants. First entering Ellis Island, New York by steam ship coming from Europe and northern Asia. Sailing to America in deplorable conditions in the ship’s hold or steerage. Not knowing if they would be granted entrance to America or be sent back home on the next ship.
This historical novel depicts a young Italian woman attempting to enter America looking for a new beginning . She is escaping physical abuse back home in Italy leaving all no matter what it takes. On the other end of the spectrum is a young German-American woman who starts her new job as matron assisting both immigrants and Ellis Island inspectors. helping to process the immigrant through the lengthy convoluted and most difficult system. Giving directions or acting as translator.
The title of the book is, “The next Ship Home,” A novel of Ellis Island, by Heather Webb. Published 2022
Library of Congress annotation:

“Ellis Island, 1902: Two women band together to hold America to its promise: “Give me your tired, your poor … your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…” A young Italian woman arrives on the shores of America, her sights set on a better life. That same day, a young American woman reports to her first day of work at the immigration center. But Ellis Island isn’t a refuge for Francesca or Alma, not when ships depart every day with those who are refused entry to the country and when corruption ripples through every corridor. While Francesca resorts to desperate measures to ensure she will make it off the island, Alma fights for her dreams of becoming a translator, even as women are denied the chance. As the two women face the misdeeds of a system known to manipulate and abuse immigrants searching for new hope in America, they form an unlikely friendship?and share a terrible secret? This is a novel of the dark secrets of Ellis Island.
Again, the book, The next ship home, a novel of Ellis Island.
This is almost the perfect fast page turning summer read. I liked it. You will too. Read the darn thing. Includes some obligatory romance but not much. If you read it you might learn something about Ellis Island as well. Historical fiction.

I like to fly with my shoes off.

Barefooting.
Of course, summer time is when we Okie kids went bare foot. And this is when we were growing up in Los Angeles. Something to show our independence from wearing shoes. And it has been that way for generations. And I’m sure generations to come.
My sisters hardly ever wore shoes after coming home from school. Even in their teenage coming home after working. Shoes off. Go play. I must admit I did the same. Shoes off. Go play. And recent times I can remember grandkids shucking their shoes and socks while still walking through the house. A shoe here. A sock there and so it goes. Shoes off. Go play.
Speaking of shoes off, one day in second grade at school, a fellow second grader came to school bare foot. A condition the teacher was concerned with. The student said he had no shoes that fit. A situation that happens with fast growing feet. So, the teacher sent him home in fear he might step on something and injure his feet. Not sure of the outcome after that event. All I remember is none of the kids in my class ever again came to school without their shoes. So, I guess he got a new pair of shoes to wear.
Once wife and I moved to a new culture the rules changed. We moved to Hawaii and preschoolers often came to school barefoot. Our three-year-old was not required to wear shoes or socks to her preschool in Honolulu. It certainly made it easier for the teachers to keep track of kid’s stuff.
Our daughter’s pediatrician, a gentleman from the mainland, was a big advocate for not wearing shoes for the first two years of a child’s life. He says it toughens the sole of the foot and wouldn’t inhibit the natural growth of the foot. Made sense to me.
While living in Hawaii, I agreed to co-teach a teenage class at church. There were numerous Samoan kids as well as other Pacific Islanders in class. Most of which wore no shoes to Sunday school. The other teacher and myself were often the only ones wearing shoes. Well, to each his or her own.
If we became a culture of bare foot people, I’m sure the shoe manufacturers would become apoplectic. If not wet their collective pants. The only thing I would suggest in this regard is for women to stop wearing stilettos or five-inch heels. Which often are too small for their foot size. Actually they could go barefoot. Some have very attractive feet. Especially the younger ones. Shoes off. Go play.

The Royal Gorge

Opulence by the slice.

It was on the eastside of Los Angeles 1959. Approaching the establishment from behind on the side street, you will quickly notice a Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud parked under its own car port just behind the business rear entrance. Then Entering the main front entrance of the unique establishment, one would be caught in total awe viewing the massive and most impressive hanging crystal chandelier. Hundreds and hundreds of reflective cut glass pieces with dozens and dozens of tiny clear glass pin lights. The entire fixture must weigh several hundred pounds. I wouldn’t want to take Windex to that. Not me.
Then you will notice wall covering of velvety red and gold flocking on the periphery. Elegant and most impressive. Makes the inside seem like a king’s regal court. Posh and possibly where the King himself indulges in his required kingly repast. Maybe brick oven baked stuffed quail and aged vino from his own vineyards. Not really sure.
Then there are the hand carved and gold leaf wooden picture frames with oil portraits of the establishment’s family. First, a handsome manly patriarch with graying temples and with a “I can do it alone” look on his visage. Perhaps looking like the Godfather, himself wearing a light gray tweed smoking jacket with patterned vest and his hands folded in his lap on black trousers. Across the room on the opposite wall is the family’s matriarch in long gown with a decorative Spanish comb in her hair. Then on the north and south walls are the couple’s two 20-something daughters in long satin dresses with expressions something like why are we doing this or can we just get this done and over with.
Then scurrying about in this over decorated dining room are waiters taking orders and delivering rectangular pepperoni and sausage pizzas along with salads and Italian breads. No finer location for our town’s first pizza joint. It was called DeLucas Pizza. Here in this town long before Pizza Hut and Shakey’s came along. However, not sure if it is still in business. I doubt it but who would really know. None the less, here’s to you my Italian Pisano.

Pulling the weeds.

posted by Chuck Ayers

Walking in the weeds.
Did I mention to you I worked on a cattle ranch back in 1961 in northern California? I did. Hardest work I had ever done.
But that aside, the ranch was just a few miles north on US-99 from the small town of Weed. Yes, Weed, California. In the foothills of Mount Shasta.
Back then it was a one company town. If my memory serves me correctly the company was Long Bell. A wood pulp and paper mill. They made huge rolls of news print paper.
Having not been there in a long long time, I’m not sure if the company is still there. However, since the legalization of marijuana. the town now distributes T-shirts and ball caps that say, “Enjoy Weed.”
Now don’t get me wrong, I do not endorse the toking of weed. Just not a good idea.