Lessons from the Weekend
I learned some valuable things over the 4th of July Weekend, and none of them have to do with American History.
First, I learned that one should avoid gazpacho at all possible costs. Tamara and I went to Mackenzie's, (a local restaurant and Tamara's favorite one in town), to celebrate the end of summer school. They often have soups that don't fit into the usual soup du jour mold (broccoli cheese, clam chowder, etc.). This time, the soup was gazpacho, best decribed as a Spanish tomato-based vegetable soup, most often served cold.
I knew all that, and still I ordered it. Now you're thinking, why would a guy who famously dislikes tomatoes AND vegetable soup order something that encompasses both, and is served cold to boot? Well, as one who likes to try new things and isn't a fan of Mackenzie's house salad, I went for it.
Biggest. Mistake. Involving. Soup. Ever. Let me say here and now that soup at a buffet that has been sitting for hours with a skin as thick as a boar's hide would be supremely more appetizing.
Cold soup, I think I can handle. Vegetable Soup? I grew up with it, and though I hated it (sorry, Mom) I managed. It was all I could do to not gag while eating the gazpacho. It was everything- the coldness, the raw vegetables, the spices and extra flavoring. All of them combined to make what is undoubtedly the worst tasting soup I have ever had.
Now, let this not taint any view you might have of Mackenzie's. I'm sure they make a fine gazpacho for those who enjoy pure disgusting. Heck, people like wine and pay out the wazoo for a bottle of rotten grape juice. It's not my thing, and now neither is gazpacho. But the rest of the food at Mackenzie's is above reproach.
Lesson 2 is that crappy days happen. Now, this is nothing new. But Saturday was a good/bad reminder that they happen. Saturday, though a holiday, was one of those days where nothing seems to go right. Everything you try to do either fails miserably or, at best, ends in some kind of undesirable way.
So they happen, and there's nothing anyone can do to avoid that fact. Where the men get separated from the monkeys is how they react to days like that. And if this past Saturday is any indication, I'm much closer to the monkeys when it comes to days like that.
But all is well that ends well. Despite back pain, standing in the rain, waiting for the city fireworks at which I am mandated by employment to provide help to begin, mixed/lack of communication on my part, and so on.....there is a remedy for those terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days. It varies greatly for each kind of bad day, but there is always a remedy.
For me, on Saturday, it was spending time with my wife, eating Frostys and trying to beat each other at Mario Kart.
Thanks for putting up with me, babe.
First, I learned that one should avoid gazpacho at all possible costs. Tamara and I went to Mackenzie's, (a local restaurant and Tamara's favorite one in town), to celebrate the end of summer school. They often have soups that don't fit into the usual soup du jour mold (broccoli cheese, clam chowder, etc.). This time, the soup was gazpacho, best decribed as a Spanish tomato-based vegetable soup, most often served cold.I knew all that, and still I ordered it. Now you're thinking, why would a guy who famously dislikes tomatoes AND vegetable soup order something that encompasses both, and is served cold to boot? Well, as one who likes to try new things and isn't a fan of Mackenzie's house salad, I went for it.
Biggest. Mistake. Involving. Soup. Ever. Let me say here and now that soup at a buffet that has been sitting for hours with a skin as thick as a boar's hide would be supremely more appetizing.
Cold soup, I think I can handle. Vegetable Soup? I grew up with it, and though I hated it (sorry, Mom) I managed. It was all I could do to not gag while eating the gazpacho. It was everything- the coldness, the raw vegetables, the spices and extra flavoring. All of them combined to make what is undoubtedly the worst tasting soup I have ever had.
Now, let this not taint any view you might have of Mackenzie's. I'm sure they make a fine gazpacho for those who enjoy pure disgusting. Heck, people like wine and pay out the wazoo for a bottle of rotten grape juice. It's not my thing, and now neither is gazpacho. But the rest of the food at Mackenzie's is above reproach.
Lesson 2 is that crappy days happen. Now, this is nothing new. But Saturday was a good/bad reminder that they happen. Saturday, though a holiday, was one of those days where nothing seems to go right. Everything you try to do either fails miserably or, at best, ends in some kind of undesirable way.
So they happen, and there's nothing anyone can do to avoid that fact. Where the men get separated from the monkeys is how they react to days like that. And if this past Saturday is any indication, I'm much closer to the monkeys when it comes to days like that.
But all is well that ends well. Despite back pain, standing in the rain, waiting for the city fireworks at which I am mandated by employment to provide help to begin, mixed/lack of communication on my part, and so on.....there is a remedy for those terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days. It varies greatly for each kind of bad day, but there is always a remedy.
For me, on Saturday, it was spending time with my wife, eating Frostys and trying to beat each other at Mario Kart.Thanks for putting up with me, babe.
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