tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46476546545860357682024-03-19T03:37:56.907-07:00My RantHere's a pile of what may be crap. You decide.Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-38354633412079107692013-08-21T10:31:00.001-07:002013-08-21T10:39:04.732-07:00Gary Lewis and The Playboys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRHoG9WyNIeCJGGWYyB1Vc8QYTB88ZbbHIuefhpJ9GqpBkGGOB60n_CxCFXRUPikejODfOtdf7IRfqt8ZrwAFmXd3oklLckkAT7oAIr3FCahcs0A00nn0EXvicLqeeyvEq0Ve8q3dsiHM/s1600/Gary+Lewis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRHoG9WyNIeCJGGWYyB1Vc8QYTB88ZbbHIuefhpJ9GqpBkGGOB60n_CxCFXRUPikejODfOtdf7IRfqt8ZrwAFmXd3oklLckkAT7oAIr3FCahcs0A00nn0EXvicLqeeyvEq0Ve8q3dsiHM/s400/Gary+Lewis.jpg" title="Tony De Falco and Gary Lewis" width="400" /></a></div>
Here's a picture of me and Gary Lewis, singer and leader of Gary Lewis and the Playboys. I got to meet him last week when him and his wife Donna bought a car from us. Great people, very friendly and happy to pose for pictures. I even got him to sign one of his albums for me. To think, I've been singing harmony with him on, "This Diamond Ring" for 48 years and he never even knew it!Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-19965755625509380582012-03-15T13:14:00.002-07:002012-03-15T13:14:55.794-07:0070's in March! Amazing!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxq82bUVHdOmRp7X24PA4j2Yc_90Yap80-glZN2p37lACLlAEqvtP-tnMOMsVYHCcIlxO98DnAcrTSpzSMytOg3OxbYcpCRT0BlPjt9_6Z3vkIgdd17R1Jp8cmeeWd4pU4Mkob0Ftuhc/s1600/DSC_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxq82bUVHdOmRp7X24PA4j2Yc_90Yap80-glZN2p37lACLlAEqvtP-tnMOMsVYHCcIlxO98DnAcrTSpzSMytOg3OxbYcpCRT0BlPjt9_6Z3vkIgdd17R1Jp8cmeeWd4pU4Mkob0Ftuhc/s320/DSC_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-39554181048056111112009-11-13T20:18:00.000-08:002009-11-13T20:20:28.705-08:00Hey!When you've got nothing to do, go check out the all new <a href="http://tonydefalco.com/">Tony De Falco.com</a> Thanks!Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-68113981831846765392009-03-02T15:01:00.000-08:002009-03-02T15:03:49.180-08:00Am I getting old or what?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxAPfCi3LgJvCssgpJqjqc5FKmv-tXT65l3p61YCZqMi9Nm2kpFQMY2LuSUrGuoUB95-oueombYkWqKhP4jKerUz7uSD5CZdjr7Aw9prETFZdXdIqHoFRNWB6aRqstQnpDeh7xlfa3LFA/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308730004128757218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxAPfCi3LgJvCssgpJqjqc5FKmv-tXT65l3p61YCZqMi9Nm2kpFQMY2LuSUrGuoUB95-oueombYkWqKhP4jKerUz7uSD5CZdjr7Aw9prETFZdXdIqHoFRNWB6aRqstQnpDeh7xlfa3LFA/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzGyA8-BaD8F8F1i1qbS4uJzF_VmSAEgCiIS8oLBdIH11uJFVPGzVMK6CdF3-sPXqRJrBpCg_Nlz9Z1cONREW2gCgI1ZrFXm0KTVAIwURCfSCKZ9OfGz1eEgf0EeeEdFnmT-kD8Fw76wI/s1600-h/photo.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div></div></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-80969511422812010772008-08-09T12:33:00.000-07:002008-08-09T12:41:07.773-07:00Kentucky Colonel Cole Slaw<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGsSqhc2GJTAK_Nb5jN5pMp6CZ5YIHxKl1fKHYOd9NNgASOZydAohWT5-90URpSgX7GSeGSBK2a8j0IcNqFyxO5r-jKlP2I94URrJ6hEfTlIuKLxi5tlcIQnsRDLAORGypi9ct_uq-mo/s1600-h/DixieDeluxeColeSlaw.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232605070652283986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGsSqhc2GJTAK_Nb5jN5pMp6CZ5YIHxKl1fKHYOd9NNgASOZydAohWT5-90URpSgX7GSeGSBK2a8j0IcNqFyxO5r-jKlP2I94URrJ6hEfTlIuKLxi5tlcIQnsRDLAORGypi9ct_uq-mo/s320/DixieDeluxeColeSlaw.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div>Well here we are at the height of summer and the picnics and cook outs are at their peak. In my book, nothing goes better with BBQ meats than a nice cole slaw. And what better than knocking off that famous southern colonel’s recipe.<br /><br />I have made this a thousand times for my back yard get togethers with nothing but good reviews. Here’s how you do it.<br /><br /><strong>THE INGREDIENTS</strong><br /><br />1 Head of cabbage finely chopped<br /><br />1 Carrot shredded<br /><br />½ Cup of sugar<br /><br />½ teaspoon salt<br /><br />1/8 teaspoon pepper<br /><br />½ cup of mayonnaise<br /><br />¼ cup of buttermilk<br /><br />1 ½ tablespoons of white vinegar<br /><br />2 ½ tablespoons lemon juice<br /><br /><strong>THE SLAW</strong><br /><br />In a large bowl combine all ingredients except cabbage and carrot, mix until smooth. Add in cabbage and carrot, stir together. Cover and refrigerate a couple of hours then chow down. It doesn’t get any easier than this. The only downside is how are you going to get rid of what’s left of the quart of buttermilk. You can’t drink it because it tastes like #@!* in a hand basket. When you figure it out let, me know. </div></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-57323133992141399822008-07-07T15:09:00.000-07:002008-07-07T15:31:54.609-07:00Tony D’s Jambalaya<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PnTv-rQLKI6osd0-ZVEgYA4AR7ssAKOyjZoxzZgXNqHWCa-FhqdLx6q9IPHLTx5K03m2U0ru9QTXc6EIYndKODa3CBNzTxGC9YddACnhkW3pQ5todcz_jaOLkOULfwkLpq1GY49dE8c/s1600-h/pot.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220400165752758802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PnTv-rQLKI6osd0-ZVEgYA4AR7ssAKOyjZoxzZgXNqHWCa-FhqdLx6q9IPHLTx5K03m2U0ru9QTXc6EIYndKODa3CBNzTxGC9YddACnhkW3pQ5todcz_jaOLkOULfwkLpq1GY49dE8c/s320/pot.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div>I know what you’re saying. Hey Tony D, “What do you know about Cajun cooking?” Well, I once walked by the red pepper and salt in the spice aisle at the grocery store and I figure that counts me in. But really, back in the late 80’s I came across the Cajun Chef, Justin Wilson on TV and I was off and running.<br /><br />After a few over salted disasters, I had a few winners and here is one of them. I have made this dish hundreds of times with no complaints. It works especially well at dish to pass events when it is re-warmed in a crock pot.<br /><br />THE INGREDIENTS<br />4 cups of cooked white rice<br />1 package of frozen 30/40 cooked shrimp<br />1 pound smoked Andouille or kielbasa sausage<br />1 small onion, diced<br />1 stalk celery, diced<br />1 small clove garlic, minced<br />½ green bell pepper, diced<br />½ red bell pepper, diced<br />1 (28-ounce) can diced, peeled tomatoes<br />½ can of tomato paste<br />½ teaspoon Tabasco sauce<br />½ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce<br />½ teaspoon gumbo filé powder<br />1 teaspoon cayenne pepper<br />Dash of black pepper<br /><br /><br />THE JAMBALAYA<br />Slice sausage into bite-sized pieces and brown in large pre-heated skillet pan (a cast-iron Dutch oven is ideal) over medium-high heat. Remove sausage from pan with slotted spoon and reserve drippings for next step.<br /><br />Defrost shrimp by running cold water over them in a colander. Save for later.<br /><br />Put onion, celery, green, red bell pepper and garlic in pan and sauté until vegetables are cooked through. Stir in tomato paste and fry until hot. Add black pepper, Tabasco, Worcestershire, file’ powder, cayenne pepper and tomatoes, rice, sausage and shrimp and stir to combine.<br /><br />Heat until hot and then serve!<br /><br />A word to the wise when spicing Cajun dishes, there is a big difference between Cajun seasoning and cayenne pepper. Most Cajun Seasonings are 99% salt and will ruin a dish. Stay away from them and use the red pepper. Just some advice from Tony D,<br /><br />But before you make it, click the video below and listen to a little Hank Williams to get you in the mood!<br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s4ZDQHo5yIg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s4ZDQHo5yIg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-76635045035850220292008-05-25T19:34:00.000-07:002008-05-25T19:59:14.997-07:00Tony D’s New York City Pizza<div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8cFxhNjmHJwSbSPwewjrI-Aki3TgOocqsMtj0Ao6n9qsi7-zLB7RRmjRXjDy4d6zpbGTSKWBL5IpmvH-As2uugLaij_S51I9X4oE8Jj1R1juJv3zlGjf-o6nMXysiI689FBPEP8_gig/s1600-h/tossing.jpg"></a><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GVE830eMwGN5qNHESPEcEcP75F8xgPPf_qDh1PrCaRM0k7CLkxG4lwY3nF1jxKH9zAMKujPX0Qu-kXszJ8HhlTXklwgMsq6uLHdZBSSVVg9gjCUof3lvuoTXkmAkf3YgN0Pf38f32_4/s1600-h/pizza.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204510477965392706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GVE830eMwGN5qNHESPEcEcP75F8xgPPf_qDh1PrCaRM0k7CLkxG4lwY3nF1jxKH9zAMKujPX0Qu-kXszJ8HhlTXklwgMsq6uLHdZBSSVVg9gjCUof3lvuoTXkmAkf3YgN0Pf38f32_4/s320/pizza.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Without a doubt there is no pizza on earth like New York City Pizza. Just ask me and I’ll tell you. And I don’t mean the hole in the wall joints all over Rochester with the falling down banners that tout “New York Style” pizza. I’ve tried them all and they are all nothing more than a loaf of bread with ketchup and cheese whiz slopped on it. I mean pizza made and eaten in the city so great, they named it twice. Pizza with a crust so thin you can fold it and the crust is brown to black.<br /><br />I should know. I grew up, worked and sweated in one at 698 Fulton Street, Brooklyn New York. I’ve eaten so much pizza pie, I have tomato sauce in my veins. It’s hard to replicate the ingredients such as a 2000 degree oven, hard Brooklyn water, Italian deli mozzarella and straight off the boat olive oil but here it is, as close, as you can get in your home kitchen.<br /><br />THE DOUGH:<br /><br />Makes enough dough for two thin crust 10-12 inch pizzas.<br /><br />INGREDIENTS<br />3/4 cups warm water (105°F-115°F)<br />1 teaspoon of active dry yeast<br />2 cups bread flour<br />2 Tbsp olive oil<br />1 teaspoons salt<br />1/2 teaspoon sugar<br /><br />In a small bowl, put the yeast, sugar and water and stir until mixed. Place the mixture in a warm place for 10 minutes until a froth forms. Dump the flour in a large mixing bowl, add the salt and olive oil. When the yeast mixture is ready pour it on top of the flour and mix with a wooden spoon until a ball forms. Turn out on to a floured cutting board. Coat your hands with flour and knead the dough until it forms a ball with a firm consistency. Add flour as needed, a little bit at a time.<br /><br />Place ball of dough in a bowl that has been coated lightly with olive oil. Turn the dough around in the bowl so that it gets coated with the oil. Cover with plastic wrap. Let sit in a warm place (75-85°F) until it doubles in size, about 1 to 1 1/2 hours. If you don't have a warm spot in the house, put it in the microwave oven and place a note on the door not to turn it on while it’s in there. At this point, if you want to make it ahead, you can refrigerate the dough for tomorrow. Just take it out a few hours before you need it. </span></div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;">When it is ready, knead again, separate into two balls and flatten into two pizza crusts. Exact size and shape aren’t important. Do the best that you can and place the dough into a pan. I have found that the ones with the holes in them work the best if you aren’t using a pizza stone.<br /><br />THE PIZZA:<br /><br />Olive oil<br />Tomato sauce<br />Garlic powder<br />Oregano<br />Basil<br />Grated parmesan cheese<br />Shredded whole milk mozzarella<br />Sliced pepperoni<br /><br />Pre heat oven to 450 degrees. Pour a little olive oil on the crust and using the back of a tablespoon spread over crust. Pour a thin layer of tomato sauce on pizza and using the spoon cover crust. Sprinkle garlic, oregano and basil and then the parmesan cheese over sauce. Top with mozzarella and pepperoni then place on middle shelf of oven. Set timer for ten minutes. When time is up, open oven, rotate pan and re set timer for 5 minutes. The time isn’t set in stone as all ovens cook different so keep checking pie and pay attention to the smell. You’ll know when it’s done by that alone. When your crust is golden brown and the cheese is melted it’s time to take it out.<br /><br />Let it rest for a few minutes before slicing, put some Jerry Vale on the stereo and open a bottle of Chianti. And don’t forget the red checkered table cloth!<br /></p></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Below is a great video. Enjoy! </span></div><div><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6mBi077QL6k&hl=en"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6mBi077QL6k&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object></div></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-90686229248552677662008-05-01T17:23:00.000-07:002008-05-01T17:29:36.465-07:00Fire Up The Grill, It's Time For... Tony D’s Fireman’s Chicken Barbeque<div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVRJJqC_YEtCKSOW2ljSpvS-vu6Is46sHYYjFRFtdwtXZwHGjTbbyYjXroMaezzOiIJWBbgArnhN_aUL-wHWxmd5QCk66au4CodFnh7KnRCbNgDBO0xH7aqHzQvtkSwLlAS9XVSfAGAHY/s1600-h/Fireman%2520Chicken%2520BBQ%25201.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195570269279223266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVRJJqC_YEtCKSOW2ljSpvS-vu6Is46sHYYjFRFtdwtXZwHGjTbbyYjXroMaezzOiIJWBbgArnhN_aUL-wHWxmd5QCk66au4CodFnh7KnRCbNgDBO0xH7aqHzQvtkSwLlAS9XVSfAGAHY/s320/Fireman%2520Chicken%2520BBQ%25201.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /> </div><div>With spring around the corner my mind turns to the great outdoors. I think of gardening, fishing, walks along the lake shore and of course, BBQing! I don’t think there is a better dish on the planet then the chicken you get at a good old fashioned Fireman’s field days. This meal served up with fresh corn on the cob and salt potatoes is my little slice of heaven. I have made this a million times with no complaints. Here’s how I do it…<br /><br />THE CHICKEN:<br /><br />Get some nice chicken quarters or half’s with leg attached but any pieces will work.<br /><br />THE SAUCE:<br /><br />This is the famous sauce created at Cornell University's Farm Home Extension in the 1950's.<br /><br />INGREDIENTS<br />2 cups vinegar<br />1 cup oil<br />1 egg<br />3 tablespoons salt<br />1 tablespoon poultry seasoning<br />black pepper to taste<br /><br />PREPARATION:<br /><br />Put Ingredients into a blender and blend until smooth. I use a wide mouth water bottle that I got at the dollar store. Add all ingredients and shake like heck. Marinate chicken in sauce for at least 1-2 hours, overnight is better. Don’t marinate more than one night or you will have chicken pickles. Discard marinade.<br /><br />COOKING:<br /><br />I prefer indirect cooking in a charcoal grill with lid and smoking woods but this will work with any type of grill. If you are doing them on a gas grill and you want the inside to be perfect without burning the outside, the secret is to par boil the chicken for a few minutes then place on the grill over medium heat.<br /><br />You can get some smoke flavor even on a gas grill. Soak your wood chips for 20 minutes in water then place in a foil pouch with holes punched in it and place on burner. Experiment with different woods until you find the flavor th</div><div>at you like. I like apple for this recipe. The nice thing woods do is add flavor without adding salt.<br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>Turn chicken frequently until done basting with sauce that you didn’t use for marinade and voila you’re done. Another "secret" recipe revealed via the internet. </div><br /><div></div></div></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-11154266693112125992008-03-10T21:46:00.000-07:002008-03-10T21:48:15.689-07:00Tony D's Sunday Gravy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVhBXbrKTmpWm2k3pL4HhzGDrZvMl1TYhJV8P6TbEBP4Odj9XgQRjiTJc_58H6DBa8cf6cZBa-_w3HYm2ahSR_6slK8i-DeYqqyhoY-j-XSBW9c1ms-J5cOF6XZTZCbwH_h0V_4VuJX0/s1600-h/gravy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176341259640934882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVhBXbrKTmpWm2k3pL4HhzGDrZvMl1TYhJV8P6TbEBP4Odj9XgQRjiTJc_58H6DBa8cf6cZBa-_w3HYm2ahSR_6slK8i-DeYqqyhoY-j-XSBW9c1ms-J5cOF6XZTZCbwH_h0V_4VuJX0/s320/gravy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Way back when, long before the distractions of the internet, hi def TV, and iPods, families actually sat down and ate dinner together. Sunday night was the BIG night when you pulled out all the stops and the cooking started before noon. Growing up in an Italian household in Brooklyn in the 60’s, we looked forward to it. Pasta was macaroni and tomato sauce was gravy and that was that. And Wednesday was definitely not Prince Spaghetti day, no matter what the TV told you. My father was the cook and he had 4 sons to do the prep and clean up work. It would all start with us sitting on kitchen chairs with a big stock pot between our legs and we would have to push tomatoes through a colander to separate the skin and seeds from the pulp. There is nothing like gravy from fresh tomatoes but here is the short cut using canned that you can make year round.<br /><br />Ingredients<br /><br />1 can of tomato paste<br />3 cans 28oz crushed tomatoes<br />Chopped garlic<br />Crushed Oregano<br />Crushed Basil<br />Red Wine<br />Pork sausage, hot or mild or hunk of pork loin<br />Olive oil<br />Parmesan cheese, grated<br /><br />Start by pouring some olive oil in the bottom of the pot, using medium heat, brown the sausage until almost done. Remove sausage and drain on paper towels.They will get finished later. Leave oil in pot. Put chopped garlic in pan, as much as you feel comfortable with. Don’t over do the spices as you can’t take them out but you can add more later. If you use the jarred chopped garlic, use about half a teaspoon. Sauté until slightly brown and then add can of tomato paste. Don’t fry the garlic past golden or it will caramelize and take on a nutty flavor. Cook the paste and garlic together, stirring constantly until hot. Pour in all three cans of tomatoes and stir together. Reduce heat to low and leave uncovered. Cook this for one hour, stirring occasionally. Sauce should have reduced by 1/3 at this point. Now add a few healthy shakes of the oregano, basil, and parmesan cheese. Pour a few dashes of the red wine in. You can also use cooking wine available at the supermarket but that’s no fun ‘cause you’ve got nothing to drink while you make this! Watch the pot and stir for the next hour or until it has further reduced and gravy is thick. You can now add back the sausage you browned or add meatballs you’ve already made. Some info from the guy that was there: If you remember in the Godfather, Clemenza, added sugar to his gravy. Do that here and I will come over to your house and hit you with a wooden spoon. In GoodFella’s it was onions, try it, and I’ll be back with the spoon.<br /><br />Anyway, there it is. Let me know how it comes out. Maybe next time we’ll make the meatballs!</div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-45193467070507501792008-01-11T08:05:00.000-08:002008-01-11T08:16:12.627-08:00Tony D's Meatloaf and Gravy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BeUZ2IBHXZQbXhUQGG34y48kRJal_fHFdH_6Ck89XKOYS0dzVTTGntViqlzC5vi2V3QXt_zMjRBGaYBb9-WLauWFj39gYI_oO4UyBn2Sau1Q9IKTffy4rH1K31Rg9sreNSOpt4FJ85E/s1600-h/meatloaf-mashed-potatoes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154253172870404834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BeUZ2IBHXZQbXhUQGG34y48kRJal_fHFdH_6Ck89XKOYS0dzVTTGntViqlzC5vi2V3QXt_zMjRBGaYBb9-WLauWFj39gYI_oO4UyBn2Sau1Q9IKTffy4rH1K31Rg9sreNSOpt4FJ85E/s320/meatloaf-mashed-potatoes.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div>Remember pulling into a roadside diner with the blinking “Eats” or “Mom’s Home Cooking” neon sign? Well so do I. Even better yet, I was a short order cook in one of those joints back in the 70’s. The diner had been there since 1930 with the same owner and the customers raved about our meatloaf. Here’s how I did it.<br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>Ingredients for two servings<br /></div><div></div><br /><div>1 lb ground beef 80/20</div><div>One egg</div><div>Milk</div><div>Bread crumbs, I prefer Italian seasoned </div><div>Garlic powder</div><div>Onion powder</div><div>Flour</div><div>Beef bouillon or two cans of beef broth</div><div>Gravy Master 1 teaspoon </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br />Pre heat oven to 350 degrees. Get out a big bowl and break the egg and add a splash of milk like you are going to make scrambled eggs. Whisk until yellow. Dump in ground beef and mix together. Add a good dash of bread crumbs so that you can’t see the top of the meat. Sprinkle on garlic powder, as much as you like. Give a good shake of onion powder. Throw a little more milk on there and stir the whole mess together until it forms a firm loaf. You can always add bread crumbs or milk to change the consistency. Put in metal loaf pan and place in oven for 45 minutes. Take out and check loaf by piercing top and look for clear juices. You may need to put back in the oven for an additional 15 minutes if you like it well done. Remember you are going to be making gravy that takes about 15 minutes so don’t overcook it yet. Remove loaf from pan, put on serving platter, cover with foil and keep in a warm place. To make the gravy place the loaf pan directly on a stove burner. Here’s the secret to making gravy without lumps. Take four level tablespoons of flour and without turning on the burner, slowly, using another spoon, mix the flour into the pan drippings until you have a paste. If you are using beef broth slowly pour into pan while turning the heat on low. Mix the paste with the broth. If you are using bouillon cubes, add two cups of water and mix. Don’t add cubes yet. Turn heat to high and bring mixture to a boil, stirring constantly. Keep an eye on it so that it doesn’t boil over. Once it comes to a boil add cubes and smash them down with the flat side of a spoon. If using broth don’t add cubes! Boil gently for 5 minutes and viola…you’re done. And don’t forget, slopping ketchup on top of meatloaf is a felony where I come from, so don’t even try it. Serve with real mashed potato’s and corn with butter. It doesn’t get any better than this!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-28664112600336383682007-05-16T20:51:00.000-07:002007-05-16T21:36:25.160-07:00CARP!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNSsUXpjJ2_OVA25-A_BebipHgAQgNFyEYfsf_eTk33_0i0NUyOHTwOAafU0-zjqj11pHs31NfRE6BEScTo0H5Bbnu8eO5gLfEzYn35CneaCB55pUjcts7V9agqj1CJ2DNUVdV6GBmz0/s1600-h/CARP.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065372494674453346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNSsUXpjJ2_OVA25-A_BebipHgAQgNFyEYfsf_eTk33_0i0NUyOHTwOAafU0-zjqj11pHs31NfRE6BEScTo0H5Bbnu8eO5gLfEzYn35CneaCB55pUjcts7V9agqj1CJ2DNUVdV6GBmz0/s320/CARP.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Well it’s spring again, when there is love in the air and a young man’s fancy turns to CARP FISHING! I don’t know much but I do know this… and here is everything from my time tested recipe for carp dough... to how to catch ‘em. Good luck!<br /><br />Ingredients:<br />Flour or cheap pancake mix<br />Corn Meal<br />Sugar<br />Cheap Pancake Syrup not the real thing – it’s for the maple smell<br />Water<br />Blackstrap Molasses<br /><br />Take an old coffee can, I don’t why, just superstition, as I have always done it this way, and start with a couple of cups of flour, heave in some good shakes of the corn meal. Don’t worry as you can’t screw this up and you can always add stuff later. Shake sugar in, add maple syrup and molasses. Then add water as need be. You need a good wooden spoon to stir this mess up. Add ingredients as you go to make it like a thick cookie dough and not watery. When you are done you should be able to handle this thing like a big brown stinky softball but not syrupy, if that makes sense. Make sure you use the molasses as the stuff is like tar and will hold the dough ball together in the water. Resist the urge to taste it, because it tastes like crap. Now refrigerate this dough over night.<br /><br />Now here’s the part nobody tells you about and it has always worked for me when cultivating a new carp hole. You need to go there everyday for a week and just chum the hole. Take balls of the dough and throw them out into the water. Throw 20 of them around and leave. Do this around the same time everyday. I never carp fish in the morning. I always fish in the middle of the day when nothing else is hitting except for these big dumb bastards. After a while you will see them swirling around in the water waiting like idiots for your chum.<br /><br />When you can’t stand it any longer bring your poles. It’s better with 2 or 3 of your buddies as you have more bait in the water and there is somebody there to back up your incredible carp stories. Always run 2 poles per person stretched out down the shore. You need to always chum the hole with dough. Use a smaller hook then you think like a size 6 and run 8 to 10 pound test maximum. A bigger hook the carp will feel and drop the bait and a heavy line doesn’t cast. It’s all about the tensile strength anyway. I once caught a 27lb carp on an ultra lite with 4lb test so it can be done. I couldn’t lift my arms to scratch my nose for a month but that’s another story altogether.<br /><br />Remember, chum the hole then form the dough ball around your hook to the size of a Titelist or Maxfli or whatever the hell it is you use on the course. I have no endorsements so I make my dough balls the size of an X out or a water ball that I have pulled out of what ever crappy course I’m on.<br /><br />Now casting is an art with this or else the dough flies off the hook and becomes more chum. Don’t muscleman cast as much as you kinda of lob it out there. You don’t need to be real far out cause when these bastards get hooked they will handle that for you. I always prop my rods up with sticks or a rod holder so the tip is high and the line snug but not taut. When they start to gum the bait you’ll get some preliminary tugs but wait until a couple of good tugs and then pick up the rod and set the hook. Yell, “FISH ON” so your buddies can pull all their lines in. Make sure your drag is set so they can run or your line will break. Then you have to start working them back to shore like guys on fishing boats by walking backwards or pulling the rod back and reeling in the slack.<br /><br />What ever you do, don’t pull a Kevin Ashman, or as it’s known by us a KDA. Kevin was a room mate of mine and a fishing buddy who always lowered his rod tip straight at the fish while John Bills yelled, “GET YOUR POLE UP, GET YOUR POLE UP”, ker-snap went his line every time. I haven’t seen Kevin in 20 years and all I can say if your reading this is.... sorry but it’s true.<br /><br />Make sure you bring a long pole net because you can’t beach big carp, they will just roll over and break the line. Hopefully you will have John Bills there ‘cause he will go diving in after the son of a bitch. It didn’t matter if John had a brand new pair of hundred dollar sneakers on, he was going in and wrestling the rat bastard to shore. I’ve seen him with that look in his eye and I don’t mean the carp. Just don’t get between Bills and a fish or you will get hurt.<br /><br />When you get him in, lay him on the bank, then you and your buddies can jump up and down yelling, “WILL YA LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT BASTARD” then throw him back and start all over again.<br /><br />So that’s my trick. Hope it works for you. Let me know how you make out.<br /><br />For some good info go here <a href="http://www.carp.com/">http://www.carp.com/</a>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-73237754172347174272007-03-14T18:55:00.000-07:002007-03-14T19:09:49.921-07:00MOVING!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUYL1XySqjuCnktNLZxAwVLKQBHm99-1wmTGEdlNuyVskTsn1GXU4neMb7VNgv-vOUYPB8_q3kyLTo1JbRp9rYMC6fGKxIEWB06ECSy0MtZJvkVEYwvDYXlr8AULeGLRO9l21AfN7_3M/s1600-h/uhaul.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041964834042781682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUYL1XySqjuCnktNLZxAwVLKQBHm99-1wmTGEdlNuyVskTsn1GXU4neMb7VNgv-vOUYPB8_q3kyLTo1JbRp9rYMC6fGKxIEWB06ECSy0MtZJvkVEYwvDYXlr8AULeGLRO9l21AfN7_3M/s320/uhaul.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Well, son of a bitch, after 6 weeks I’m finally done. Of course, 90% of what I am looking for is lost in the 2000 boxes I have stashed in the attic, basement and garage. I’m sure like all the other moves in my life, I’ll get around it the same way I always do. Go out, buy it again, and find the packed away one the next day. Part of the reason is my scientific method of specifically and deliberately marking all the cartons with hieroglyphics and cryptic markings. Some of the crates even have those little side ways Egyptian guys and cave drawings of mastodons. It made perfect sense when I loaded them up. Now it’s just gibberish.<br /><br />Part of the move consisted of numerous trips to goodwill with items like my 9th grade earth science book, a thermal paper fax machine from 1991 and no less than 3 salt and pepper shakers sets still in the box, one in the shape of some black and white cows. What the hell was I thinking when I bought that? The only bad thing is, if the 9th grade calls me back, I can’t go, because I gave away the text book. Then again, I was in 9th grade in 1973 so maybe they have new stuff by now.<br /><br />And talk about tired. Nothing says “out of shape” like walking up and down steps with boxes and furniture. And shoveling snow. It seems like the minute I get the driveway cleared it starts all over again. I don’t know what I was thinking. I could have stayed in my nice rented townhouse, where magically the sidewalk and driveway shoveled itself. But, nooooooo, I went and bought a house. Next comes the mowing. I don’t know what I hate worse. Freezing while I chop ice off the driveway or sweating to death while I pick hayseeds and flies out of my teeth.<br /><br />Well at least now, I can do whatever I want to the place. Like paint it purple with a yellow smiley face on the roof, put an anti aircraft gun on the front lawn and point it at my neighbors picture window, tie a barking junkyard dog on a one foot rope to the tree in the front yard, park old cars in various states of de-composition in the driveway, fill an old bathtub with dirty water and start a mosquito pond, let the pennysavers and junk mail pile up under the mailbox into a soaking wet heap, play “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” on repeat and blast it out of the garage for a week straight, run a chain saw at 6AM on Sunday morning. You know. All the things that make for being a good neighbor. Because after all, deep down inside, I’m a people person.<br /><br />These bastards don’t know what their in for! </div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-39511327437253801022006-12-31T08:30:00.000-08:002006-12-31T08:38:14.609-08:00ROBOTS!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZFnI65sISqTV7ri-pX0p4-qhTDmBKOSSJvbJ7x_VmYBe63aybos8TX7SGlJTgC1V6WDHfhrrXq1hqNuG0I_Yg1hPRUeP0lgJ8POz-0aALOhamabZtlEDVihCw3Uggr9Orz6kZBDzBhY/s1600-h/robotanim.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014729442887156850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZFnI65sISqTV7ri-pX0p4-qhTDmBKOSSJvbJ7x_VmYBe63aybos8TX7SGlJTgC1V6WDHfhrrXq1hqNuG0I_Yg1hPRUeP0lgJ8POz-0aALOhamabZtlEDVihCw3Uggr9Orz6kZBDzBhY/s400/robotanim.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Well here we go. Another year under our belts. Christmas came and went and I still didn’t get the <strong>Rock’Em Sock’Em Robots</strong> I’ve wanted since 1967. But that’s a whole other sob story altogether. Since then I have managed to amass a toy and game collection consisting of <strong>Operation</strong>, <strong>Monopoly</strong>, <strong>Trouble</strong>, a hundred different <strong>Star Trek</strong> and <strong>Star Wars</strong> figures and no less than 3 <strong>Lost in Space robots</strong>, two of which say ”Danger Will Robinson Danger!”, but no <strong>Rock’Em Sock’Em’s</strong>. All the stuff I wanted as a kid and never got. So you ask, “Tony D, why do you have 3 <strong>Lost in Space robots</strong>? Well, funny you should ask. The story goes back to the 1960’s…<br /><br />I grew up in a two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn New York with 4 brothers and my mother and father. We didn’t have two nickels to rub together. Two brothers on a bunk bed and me and the youngest on a cot in one room. My parents in the other bedroom on the other end of the apartment. The view out my window was into an alley and a brick wall six feet away. To the left was the bedroom window of Paul Fasone, the building rich kid. He had everything. I can still remember his mother standing in the doorway of their apartment telling my mother about his genius IQ. They were <strong><em>those</em></strong> kind of neighbors. What ever was hot at the time he had. <strong>Bat Man</strong> figurines, a <strong>Star Trek</strong> phaser that shot little plastic discs, an <strong>I Spy</strong> brief case, and a <strong>Man from U.N.C.L.E</strong>. camera that morphed into a gun. And a two foot high <strong>Lost In Space</strong> robot that lit up. That bastard! I asked to see it once and he pulls it away and says, “No!” Spoiled freakin’ brat that he was. Meanwhile my best toy is a broom handle that I point at the city bus when it goes up our street and I make believe that I’m Vic Morrow on “<strong>Combat!</strong>” shooting at a German tank.<br /><br />Of course none of the stuff did him any good as he couldn’t hit a ball in a straight line with his brand new <strong>Louisville Slugger</strong>, catch a pop fly with his genuine leather <strong>Mickey Mantle</strong> baseball glove, or throw a spiral with his official <strong>Joe Nameth</strong> football. He might have had all the toys but he was nothing but a nerd, a dufus, a spazz. Everybody knows a guy like this.<br /><br />One of my favorite memories of Paul is of him showing up at our street hockey world series in the middle of 10th street. We’re using sticks that we took out of the hockey rink garbage cans and are holding them together with tape. We have the foam from sofa cushions that we found on the curb strapped to our legs, and key skates clamped to our <strong>Keds</strong> with a roll of black electrical tape for a puck and gloves that we stole off a <strong>Con Ed</strong> truck. He is dressed up in the complete goalie outfit of a New York Ranger. Helmet, hard chaps, shoe skates, everything. What an asshole!<br /><br />We weren’t gonna let this get by us. He didn’t last ten minutes. He got a few well deserved body checks and then he ran home crying to his mommy. That was the end of his <strong>Bobby Orr</strong> fantasy and we never saw the suit again.<br /><br />So now when people ask me why I have 3 <strong>Lost In Space</strong> robots in my living room, I tell them the story and the lesson, “<strong>WHO HAS THE ROBOT NOW PAUL FASONE. ME THAT’S WHO. YOU SON OF A BITCH!” </strong></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-69294951140974176152006-12-26T08:44:00.000-08:002006-12-26T08:56:55.299-08:00It's beginning to look a lot like the day after Christmas<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYjqMdLDVAzI2QnmoaOxbNMPoDfl7epU2i1GGNsMXcYbIEHpNCZgi7UBsUSX1y5NYeGzgVh3pdNp8Rgf29dUMINpDBuKd_2teC9_5jiqs_x9JVJ2dEF_icjXGrmmtLFcNhazr_Uam6mA/s1600-h/garbage.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012880158818517874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYjqMdLDVAzI2QnmoaOxbNMPoDfl7epU2i1GGNsMXcYbIEHpNCZgi7UBsUSX1y5NYeGzgVh3pdNp8Rgf29dUMINpDBuKd_2teC9_5jiqs_x9JVJ2dEF_icjXGrmmtLFcNhazr_Uam6mA/s320/garbage.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-53334679565100395162006-12-22T08:21:00.000-08:002006-12-22T08:25:38.681-08:00The Gospel According to Tony D<span style="font-family:arial;">Oh yes, I’m the great <strong>De Falco</strong>. Hear me roar. Women adore me and men fear me. There’s two kinds of people in this world; there’s me and people who wish they were me. Dogs and small children revere me as a god. Cats pay cash money to sit in my lap. I am omnipotent and omnipresent. I am everywhere and everyone at all times. My followers refer to me as the Bagwan Shree Rajneesh Maha Tony D. I am the Duke of the eastern hemisphere and the presiding governor of the milky way. I once did the hundred yard dash in ten seconds but was disqualified for using a car. The stupid seldom recognize brilliance.<br /><br />I’ve spent most of my money on booze and broads, the rest I just wasted. Nobody knows I’m Elvis. I was wrong once. Later I found out I was right, so I was still wrong. If I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you. Remember that I’ll be sober tomorrow but you’ll be ugly the rest of your life. The best thing about being me is, I’m not you.<br /><br /><strong>De Falco’s</strong> rule of probability states that bread will land butter side down, always. Your boss <strong><em>is</em></strong> an asshole and <strong><em>yes</em></strong> I slept with your wife/girlfriend. I will never return those books and CD’s you loaned me. How stupid can you <strong><em>be</em></strong>? All I ask is that you treat me no different than any other <strong>Supreme Being</strong>. I’d walk a mile in your shoes, but I won’t because they stink and won’t fit right.<br /><br />If you want the best seat in the house, move your dog. I brew my own beer in my bathtub and I shower in the driveway. Men named Nunzio beg me for my pizza recipes. A slice of my lasagna will break a man’s foot if dropped. My instant coffee is considered gourmet fare in Tibet. I can get it for you wholesale and the deal ends tomorrow. Ok, I’ll let you have it for cost. Buy one get one free. Really, I’m not making a dime on this.<br /><br />Scotch isn’t just for breakfast anymore. Just remember this hurts me more than it hurts you. Never let the bastards see you sweat. Years from now you’ll look back on all this and laugh. Two wrongs do make a right as long as you don’t get caught.<br /><br />And don’t forget…never let anyone outside the family know what you are thinking.<br /><br /> </span>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-72012950158833087292006-12-21T19:39:00.000-08:002007-01-01T21:14:13.835-08:00Xmas Shopping Part Deux<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_IQ8Xykbnb5lS_OqJgZ7CcBTJh79aXPqxhjw8cNYAZL17HtQ9LX7fNLnhg4pwJ1vPBa049dv-VC_Z7oD_cJejdQr2Nq8NttS5e5_uj2vkJVcV_92lg7mgpypGH7F94PQW0OOZF7_3ejY/s1600-h/candle.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015297037028626242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_IQ8Xykbnb5lS_OqJgZ7CcBTJh79aXPqxhjw8cNYAZL17HtQ9LX7fNLnhg4pwJ1vPBa049dv-VC_Z7oD_cJejdQr2Nq8NttS5e5_uj2vkJVcV_92lg7mgpypGH7F94PQW0OOZF7_3ejY/s400/candle.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">So here I go again and all I can say is, Oh brother! Today I made the fatal error of opening an email from a local but national craft store. It featured a doll house that you could build, design, decorate etc etc and it was on sale! How could I resist! $129 bucks marked down to $69. And it comes with a family that includes a cat and a dog. I’m in. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Forget the fact that we have like, a hundred doll houses piled up around here that I am pretty sure my daughter hasn’t touched since we got ‘em. Still, I have to have it. So I go to work and the first chance that I see a break in the action, I pull my disappearing act and I head down the busiest road on the planet to get my prize. Bumper to bumper, stop and go, 2 miles per hour, red light after red light. After what seems like forever, I pull into the plaza and as expected the joint is PACKED. I park in another zip code and begin my trek to the front door. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As I approach the front door I am cut off by somebody’s grandmother who steps one foot inside, spots some potpourri, yarn animal, floam display, artificial flowers, sparkle paint kit, WHATEVER and stops dead in her tracks. Me of course, I am heading in like a freight train and I come up short and slam right into her. After the appropriate sorry’s and excuse me’s, we part company. I run though the place, up one aisle and down the other to grab the house so I can blow this taco stand. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">No house, no where. Now I am getting nervous. So I take another run thru the place when I see the thing at the top of the rack with a sale sign in front of it. And it’s the last one. Now, I am not 5 foot 3 nor Yao Ming size either, but this thing was high up. Now, I am standing there contemplating getting somebody from the store staff or jumping up and down like an idiot in a suit and tie and knocking it off the shelf. I opt for the jumping. Also there is the matter of the plexiglass sign. That is going to come down in my hand or it is going to bounce off my skull. No doubt about it. So after an appropriate amount of flailing about, I bring it down and I don’t dent my head in the process. Success! On to the cash register. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">There are six check out aisles with of course, only two open and fifty people in line. This is the busiest retail season of the year. The last thing a store would want to do is to adequately staff it for the rush. As usual, I eyeball the cashiers, customers, size of the queue, items in hands or carts and after carefully analyzing all the factors and basing it on my many years of shopping experience, I immediately get in the wrong line. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">There are three house frau’s in front of me with two shopping carts. All with bad hairdos, lousy cheap clothes and over bites. Definitely mother and two daughters. All ugly as sin. One cart has nothing in it. The second is full of smelly candles and stupid crap. I mean BIG smelly candles. And a small bald alien creature that some people refer to as a baby. Now, the only baby I ever gave a rat’s ass about was my own. The rest of ‘em are annoying, ugly, curtain climbers that I don’t like. Sure I will put up airs when it profits me, but in reality, I hate other people’s kids. I could bullshit you, but there it is. But l digress, so back to the smelly candle broads. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Now, while I stand there with this 30LB box in my hand, I watch while the cashier, a 60 plus old lady stands there and makes goo goo eyes at the rug rat in the cart and literally does the cartoon baby talk to the kid. And I mean on and on and on. Fifty people in line and Grandma Moses over here is going “Goo Goo Gaa Gaa” to this diaper filler while I stand there like an idiot with a box in my hands. Still nothing has been rung up or even placed on the check out counter. The mother of the alien finally decides to place a smelly candle on the counter and we are off! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As usual both the customer and checkout lady are moving in slooooooooo moooootion. Smelly candle after smelly candle and stupid crap goes up on the counter. A third of the crap goes to the register when ugly mom stops and tells old lady cashier that is the end of her order. Old lady cashier rings the total and ugly mom whips out the checkbook. Now not for nothing. She knew she was coming here, She stood in line. Get the goddamn check out before you get to the head of the line. Write in the name of the store, put in the date, sign it….what the hell! Besides the fact, what are you doing writing a check in a store in this day and age? What is this? The wild wild west! Get a debit card like the rest of the world. I bet if I go into a store in Kazakhstan, they take cards. And as you might have guessed this whole scene was repeated by the grandmother. In all fairness to the ugly sister of the alien’s mother she did pay with a card. At this point in the transaction, I was too pissed to care. They cleared out and I paid for my house and was gone in 30 seconds as per usual. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The lesson here is don’t fall for email come on’s and buy your doll house’s on line where there is no chance of getting stuck in line behind a bunch of house wives buying ginger bread and apple butter stinking candles. Anyway, that’s what I think.</span></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647654654586035768.post-8553408295758427702006-12-20T16:08:00.000-08:002007-01-01T21:17:05.596-08:00Xmas Shopping<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuSOpBKEhvwsR0M5wHnX_862hr3K8-_JlW2S9H2uHQzpPCmnEWVa56n2HTKFokqTfan2AQnhZ5TUa3IzEJCvztYTId0rd9wL1PKlWbeUpY1S36fotCV1hzG0-O6TOpgSIiqYRDPKxUCQ/s1600-h/ipodnano.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015297758583131986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuSOpBKEhvwsR0M5wHnX_862hr3K8-_JlW2S9H2uHQzpPCmnEWVa56n2HTKFokqTfan2AQnhZ5TUa3IzEJCvztYTId0rd9wL1PKlWbeUpY1S36fotCV1hzG0-O6TOpgSIiqYRDPKxUCQ/s400/ipodnano.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">First thing, notice, I titled this Xmas shopping and not Christmas 'cause in no way, shape or form does the running around, dodging traffic and spending my hard earned dough ray me on crap have anything to do with the CHRIST part of the MAS. Anyhoo, I broke my cardinal rule of setting foot in a store after Thanksgiving, (It's a guy thing), and I went to ***-Mart and headed to the electronics department to buy my daughter a 2GB IPod Nano. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Know what I want and where to get it. Go in, grab it, pay and run. I knew I was in trouble right from the get go. The things are locked up in a case. I head back to the counter where there are 3 associates in blue vests behind the counter locked in conversation that has nothing to do with business and one young lady checking out people. You know, sort of like a highway job. One guy working and three watching. So I stand there for what seems like an eternity. And as usual when I go to a low price, high volume, zero service type establishment, I am wearing my invisible suit. So this goes on until I have a long white beard and cob webs are starting to form and I finally find my spine and I pipe up with, "Can somebody get me an IPod out of the case!" A young guy tells me he will get it and for me to stay right there. And now I'm thinking....Oh yeah, he is going to get me one, after he bounces it off the floor or uses it as a roller skate to get back to the counter. I mean that's what I would have done at his age when some guy came up to me and my buddies goldbricking and interrupted our very important, top level discussion. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">So he brings it back and put's it behind the counter and tells me to get in line. Oh no! Now I am behind every idiot in town trying to write checks with no ID, debit cards that won't go through and the 19 or 20 something guy, one customer in front of me that is buying a $19.99 plus tax computer keyboard with <strong><em>change</em></strong>. That's right <em><strong>change</strong></em>. Nickels, dimes, quarters and pennies. So as I watch this and sweat begins to run down my back, I can only think of where I'd rather be. Root canal, tax audit, talking to my ex-wife. Pretty much anywhere but here. As you can probably imagine this was as much fun as throwing Red Devil #9 turpentine on a skinned knee. It was a sight. He diligently stacked the coins in stacks of one dollar each as me and 30 of my closest new friends watched helplessly. I was really waiting for him to come up short as that would have been the<em> end all</em>! <em>Of course</em>, I would have paid the shortfall just to get rid of him! He gets it all done and the girl behind the counter now has to count it as she puts it in the cash register. Instead of sliding the coins into her hand and counting, i.e, 10, 20, 30, she lifts each stack and drops them one by one onto the counter than slides them into her hand and into the till. I am about ready to kill myself and end the misery. She gets done and the coin idiot takes his receipt and now begins a snappy repartee with the sales chick oblivious of all the people in line. I don't think that he ever turned his head during the whole process and besides the leers and bad mojo that I was exuding, I really don't think he ever knew we were there. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">He leaves and the next guy in front of me begins to remove items from his cart that turns out he does not want to buy, but wants price checks on. Are you kidding me? Have I stepped into the Twilight Zone. I am starting to look around for the hidden cameras and Alan Funt to appear. Am I being punked? Is this The Jamie Kennedy Experiment, what is going on here? ***-Mart has barcode readers all over the store on pillars for this purpose. So price check guy pulls everything out in slow motion just to aggravate me. He put's eveything back in the cart and begins to tell check out girl that he is "Just figuring out his Christmas shopping and will be back later." Now it's me. I get rung up, I slide the card, (which goes through, I may add, as I actually have money in my account), I get my receipt and I am gone. My transaction all in all take 30 seconds, as it should. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The lesson here...next year, everybody gets a donation in their name to the Human Fund. Money for People. Festivus for the rest of us! And don't forget the aluminum pole.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div>Tony Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02174907607566857735noreply@blogger.com2