Night at the Drive-In

Those of us who live in the Tulsa area are lucky to be able to visit one of the few remaining operational drive-in movies. The Admiral Twin opened in the 1950's and was later used to shoot scenes for the movie The Outsiders. On Friday night, the Tiki family saw Night at the Museum 2 at the Admiral Twin.

I remember going to the drive-in as a kid and the experience is quite a bit different as an adult. The obvious change is the technology. When I was a kid, you pulled a tinny sounding speaker into your car and cranked the volume up as loud as possible so that you could hopefully hear at least the loud parts of the movie. Now, you tune your radio to an FM station to pick up the sound in full stereo. It isn't as impressive as the Dolby surround sound in theaters, but it beats the stuffing out of the old tinny speakers. The other major change is the way people watch the movies. In the old days, mostly due to the little speaker, most people sat in their cars or in the backs of pickup trucks to watch the movie. Now, being able to bring a portable stereo or crank up the car audio allows people to migrate out of their cars onto lawn chairs and blankets on the ground. The drive-in was really packed on Friday night and it looked like a big camping trip minus the tents. People had lawn chairs, folding chairs, blankets, air mattresses and bags of groceries surrounding them. After buying some popcorn at the concession stand, I can only wish that we had also taken bags of groceries instead.

While I can't recommend Night at the Museum, I can recommend the experience of the Admiral Twin. I enjoy it because it reminds me of a simpler, carefree time in my life and my kids enjoy it because it is a novelty. Just remember to avoid the popcorn.

On Saturday night, Dale and Carol came to the Tiki Hut for drinks by the pool. They had just returned from a family vacation to Disney World so we discussed their trip and the changes to the Disney complex since the Tiki Family last visited. The Tiki Gal and Carol had the Curious George and Dale and I had beer.

Franziskaner Hefe-Weisse Dunkel

Color: Caramel

Skunkiness: 0 skunks but it smelled a little nutty.

Taste: A malty and non-descript dark beer. There was no taste of nuttiness.

Comments: This was one of the beers we picked up on Carol's first beer run. We wouldn't run far to have this one again.

Carol Rating: 1 on a scale of 1 or 5.

Rating: 3 pints out of 5.

Grinbergen Double Ale

Color: Dark amber.

Skunkiness: 0 skunks but it did smell very sweet.

Taste: Malty and sweet with a bite at the end. We couldn't determine what caused the bite.

Comments: We bought this beer in Frisco, Texas on our trip to see the Jimmy Buffett concert. We rated it previously and didn't taste anything different this time.

Carol Rating: 1.

Rating: 3.5 pints.

Sol

Color: Golden

Taste: Hoppy and yeasty. A complex, lighter beer perfect for summer.

Comments: We discovered Sol in New Braunfels, Texas on one of our joint vacations with Dale and Carol to Schlitterbahn. We played cards at a picnic table outside our cabins until the wee hours of the morning drinking Sol (while the girls drank wine.) The cabins at Schlitterbahn are right inside the water park and at one point in the evening, a security apparatus may have been compromised on a dare. I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out.

Carol Rating: Abstained from rating Sol because she didn't try it.

Rating: 4 pints.

The Accidental Vacation, Part 2

As I mentioned last time, day two of my accidental vacation in DFW airport started at four in the morning. I was not in a good mood, to say the least. I had gotten little to no sleep while lying on a cold, hard floor. I didn't have a book to read and all the shops in the airport were still closed. And to top it all off, the high temperature in Dallas that day was forecast at a balmy 15 degrees. I suspected that there wouldn't be much thawing going on.

I sat and stared until six and then made my way to the ticket counter. Because there was still a significant amount of ice on the ground, the planes, and anything else that happened to be outside, the earliest flights for the day were at five p.m. Since the car rental agencies were still closed, I thought the five p.m. flight was the best I could do so I booked my seat. With eleven hours to kill, I decided to explore the airport.

It is amazing how big an airport like DFW really is - and how few steps you really have to take to get from place to place. I stood on moving walkways. I rode escalators. I rode a train from one terminal to another. I then used the moving walkways to get back to the first terminal. I probably traveled at least a mile in distance but only walked a few hundred yards. During my trip, I also found a whole new set of shops that were now open. First, I bought a toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant. No explanation needed, I think. Next, I found a PGA Tour shop that had baseball caps. There, I bought my all-time favorite hat: a red Tommy Bahama King Putt cap. Someone in St. Thomas is wearing that hat with pride right now but that is a story for another day. Finally, I found a store that sold books. There weren't many choices so I ended up with The Bourne Identity which turned out to be much better than I had suspected it would be.

I had burned roughly two of the eleven hours I had to kill at this point so I grabbed some breakfast and called the Tiki Gal to let her know I was alive and (sort of) well. I also called my manager to let him know I would not be making it into work. He seemed to be amused at the fact that I was stuck in the airport overnight. He did offer to try to come and get me but I didn't want to make him risk his life and limb on the treacherous roads. Besides, I had a plane to catch in nine short hours.

For the rest of the day, I would read for a few hours and then people watch for an hour. Airports are absolutely one of the best places to people watch. Especially when the majority of the travelers are grumpy because they spent the previous night on the floor in the airport. When I couldn't sit anymore, I would walk laps around the terminal. It was one of the longest days of my life.

Finally, right on time, the announcement was made to board my flight. I called the Tiki Gal and told her I would hopefully be home in a few hours and eagerly got on the plane. I was so exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before that I fell asleep as soon as I sat down in my seat. I woke up two hours later and was a bit surprised to find that at six-thirty, my flight that was scheduled for a five p.m. departure was still parked at the gate. I asked my neighbor what was going on. He told me that we were waiting to get the engines de-iced. Oh no! Not the dreaded de-icing again. On the other hand, de-icing of the engines is likely a good thing to do so I pulled out my new book (I finished The Bourne Identity at four. The new one was some Dean Koontz novel - who knows which one) and began to read. When the engine de-icer crew finally got to my plane, it was 9 p.m. and I had finished half of the new book. With our engines safe and thawed, the captain pulled into the line of planes waiting to have the wings de-iced. Ugh. I was starting to get a queasy feeling about this flight. I was still really tired so I dozed off again. I woke up at 12:30 a.m. to find that we were on our way back to the gate. The flight crew had reached their work day limit so I wasn't going home after all. I wanted to hit something or cry. Or both.

When we departed the plane, we were given the same basic information as the night before. Flight arrangements could be made at six in the morning. All the hotels nearby were full. Car rentals could not be had. Taxis were not running. Welcome to the Hotel DFW. You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave. Luckily for me, however, the airport had decided that it was not in their best interests to have a bunch of sleep-deprived, grumpy, semi-homeless people wandering around so they brought out rows and rows of cots. I grabbed another tiny blanket and pillow and a cot and pulled it into a corner. I called the Tiki Gal with the last sliver of battery left in my phone to let her know I would not be making it home after all. I put my worldly belongings (a really cool hat, a portfolio, and a formerly nice jacket that looked like it had seen better days) under my cot, covered up with my tiny blanket and went to sleep on my tiny pillow.

I slept really well. The human body will apparently allow you to sleep in the worst conditions once you get tired enough. I slept through the announcements, the cleaning crews and possibly a military marching band. I woke up at a little after six and again secured a ticket for a flight home at three p.m. Not great but not as bad as it could have been. Even better, the temperature was going to be in the mid-fifties by lunch time. I felt that my parole was close at hand.

To make a long story a little shorter, I finished book number three and purchased book number four (a Laurell K. Hamilton, I think). I walked, sat, and ate. Finally, it was time to board my flight. And what do you know. It didn't need to be de-iced at all.

My day trip turned into a three day vacation that I didn't want and that I certainly would not recommend. Looking back, I wonder why I didn't spend the entire time in the airport bar? It must have been the lack of sleep. But at least I got a cool hat.

The Accidental Vacation, Part 1

As I sat on my patio last night pondering the evil ways of my Truman Show producers, I remembered an event that needed to be documented so it would not be lost in history. This event came to mind because I was trying to barbecue ribs for the Tiki family. I write "trying" because, in early June in Oklahoma, it was so cool outside and the wind was blowing so hard that I could not keep my grill hot enough to cook the ribs. I typically cook ribs at 350 degrees for around an hour. Last night, I could barely keep the grill at 300 degrees with the burners turned up to full volume so the ribs took nearly two hours to cook. Also, instead of my typical grilling attire of shorts and a t-shirt, I was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt and the Tiki Gal was wearing a sweat shirt. As a wise man once said about weather in Oklahoma, however, if you don't like it, just wait five minutes. Today is sunny and warm and much more typical of early summer. I'm not planning on cooking outside today, however, proving that the Truman Show producers are back at it again.

The uncommonly cold evening made me remember something that happened to me a few years ago on a business trip. I flew to Dallas in January on a day trip to meet with my manager. Dallas is typically pretty warm, much like Oklahoma, even in January so all I took for the day was a light jacket, a small portfolio case, and a book (I refuse to get on an airplane without a book for three reasons: 1. I love to read. 2. You can hide in a book so that annoying seat neighbors will leave you alone. 3. It is really boring on an airplane and if you don't have anything to read you might become an annoying seat neighbor.)

The office I was visiting in Dallas was a thirty minute drive from the airport so I rented a car. I went to my meetings, went to lunch, then went to more meetings. Around three in the afternoon, a coworker mentioned that a winter storm was moving into the area with a slight chance of freezing rain and sleet. Driving in Dallas with ice falling from the sky is not my idea of a good time so I decided to leave for the airport even though my flight didn't leave for four hours. Or so I thought...

I made it about halfway to the airport when the sleet began to fall. It was light at first but within a few minutes, a torrential downpour of ice was making it hard to see the road. Luckily, most folks were still working so the highways were relatively empty. I still had to slow down and be extra careful, however, because cars were already sliding all over the road.

I made it safely to the airport with three hours until flight time. I returned my rental car, went through security, and found my terminal. I ate something that bore a slight resemblance to food in the food court and made my way to the gate. Looking out the windows, I could see that the sleet had given way to freezing rain but the ground was still coated with at least two inches of ice pellets.   None of the other flights were being delayed or cancelled, though, so I didn't worry. Boarding started for my flight right on time so I got on the plane, found my seat, and burrowed into my book.

I first noticed that things were going bad when the plane was thirty minutes late leaving the gate. Once we were finally underway, the captain announced that there was a line of planes waiting to be de-iced and that had caused the delay. He then said that we would be getting in that line of planes and that he would keep us updated. I happily got lost in my book. The next thing I knew, I had read at least a quarter of the book but we hadn't moved up too far in the line of planes. I checked the time and was amazed to find that it was 9:30. I called the Tiki Gal on my cell phone (another clue, they were letting us use our phones) and told her I was going to be late. The flight attendants began passing out drinks and the grumbling of the passengers increased in volume and irritability. I'm a laid back kind of guy, however, so I went back to my book.

At eleven o'clock, the captain announced that we were now only ten planes from the front of the line to get de-iced (only ten away after four hours; how long was that line?) but if we didn't make it to the front of the line in the next fifteen minutes, the flight crew would be in danger of exceeding the FAA mandated, twelve hour maximum work day and we would have to turn around and go back to the gate. This announcement was not met with good cheer from the passengers. It had taken us four hours to get near the front of the line. There was no way ten planes would be de-iced in fifteen minutes and we all knew it. You could smell the anger and disappointment in the cabin like an old athletic sock that was forgotten in the bottom of a gym bag.

As expected, fifteen minutes later we were nine planes from the front of the line so we turned around and went back to the gate. We were asked to exit the plane and I made it back into the terminal at midnight. The airline employees then informed us that all remaining flights had been cancelled and we would need to make further flight arrangements in the morning. Grumble, grumble. We were further informed that all the rental car companies were closed due to the fact that the roads currently were more suitable for a Zamboni than a car. Grumble, grumble. And all the hotels nearby were full because very few flights had been able to leave and even fewer of them spent five hours on the tarmac waiting to be de-iced. Big grumble. The icing on the cake came last. Cabs were not running because of the aforementioned need for a Zamboni. Huge grumble. I also learned a useful fact. Ice storms are known in the airline industry as an "Act of God" and an airline is not in any way responsible for the travel or hospitality needs of a passenger due to an "Act of God." I really wanted to recommend an Act that God wouldn't approve of to the grumpy airline employee who imparted this knowledge.

At this point, I was on my own. No hotel, no car, no taxi and no way to leave the airport. If you've seen the movie The Terminal, I was Tom Hanks with a credit card and less hair. I called the Tiki Gal to inform her that I would be spending the evening in Terminal C and noticed that my cell phone battery was perilously low. Of course I didn't have my charger because I was on a stinking day trip! I also didn't have a toothbrush, a bed, or even a book at this point because I had finished mine while waiting to be de-iced. Could it possibly get any worse? Of course it could.

I wandered around Terminal C and noticed that for the hundreds of stranded passengers, the airline had brought out approximately three cots. Of course, those cots were occupied. I did happen to be near a gate where someone was handing out those tiny airline pillows and blankets so I snagged one of each. Walking on, I found that all of the shops and restaurants were closed so I couldn't even buy another book. 

With nothing else to do, I found a quiet gate that was less brightly lit than the others and sat down. Unfortunately, the seats in all the gates were of the variety that have aluminum armrests making it impossible to lie down across a row. I've never been good at sleeping while sitting so after an hour or so of trying to find a comfortable position, I gave up and stretched out on the floor. I covered myself with my tiny blanket, put my head on my tiny pillow on top of my portfolio case, and tried to go to sleep.

Have you ever sat in an airport and listened to all of the announcements? Besides the "Flight 344 to Phoenix is now boarding at Gate 24" type announcements, there are also the announcements like "Please keep your luggage with you at all times. All unattended luggage will be impounded immediately." These announcements are apparently scheduled in ten minute intervals. They are also repeated in Spanish. And most importantly to me at the time, they are very loud and they never stop.  So from two in the morning until four in the morning, I was able to doze in ten minute intervals until the next round of announcements. On the plus side, I now know some Spanish phrases that will never be useful in any situation.

My fitful sleep was finally destroyed for good at four in the morning because a group of airport employees started buffing floors and vacuuming carpets. How did they get to work? They must drive Zambonis.

Tune in next time to find out what happened on Day Two of my accidental, ice inspired vacation in Dallas.

The Mullet Migration

This past weekend, the Tiki Gal and Carol had their semi-annual garage sale. I have a split personality when it comes to garage sales. I like having garage sales because people will pay to take away all the junk that I would have thrown away otherwise. I hate going to garage sales, however, for the same reason. The majority of the stuff for sale is garbage and, as a general rule, I like to avoid paying for garbage. Just like having to pay for air, dirt, and rocks, it is wrong on many levels.

There is another perk that comes with having a garage sale and that is you get to do some serious people watching - and we had a fine crop of folks to watch. The first day of the garage sale was Friday and the ad Carol placed in the local newspaper said we would open at eight. I think only the mentally deranged would shop for junk at that time of day but to each his own. Anyway, I went out for a run at 7 and when I returned at 7:30, there were cars parked in front of my house. Apparently these folks were so eager to haul away our junk, they showed up early. Chuckling, I went inside to let the Tiki Gal know she had customers waiting. I had barely made it inside when the doorbell rang. One of the waiting ladies was concerned that those "auction guys" would show up and buy all the good stuff if we didn't open soon. Since there was quite a crowd waiting, we decided to open the garage doors and get started. We had a bed and a table and some other stuff in the garage that we had planned to drag out on the driveway but the masses of early bird shoppers poured into the garage while the door was still going up and we couldn't drag anything out without knocking them over. Before I had stopped sweating from my run, we had already sold the bed and an old computer.

Since I had to work on Friday, I missed the people watching after that initial rush. I made up for it on Saturday, however, and Dale was able to join us. Of course, my talent for attracting interesting people was in full effect as well. First, a lady told us that her daughters paid for all of her family's food. I'm not sure why she thought we needed to know this but she volunteered it out of the blue. Next, another lady said she was sure that all the good stuff was gone since she was just getting started at around 11. The Tiki Gal told her sleep was more important than garage sales anyway. The lady then said "Especially when you have to take Tylenol PM to get any." I am a fairly quiet guy and this is why. If you feel the need to talk a lot, at some point you will have to start saying things that should be left unsaid just because you've already talked about everything else.

We also saw a male and female version of the famed mullet haircut. I usually have to travel to either my hometown or the Tiki Gal's to see a mullet. I guess they are migrating north for the summer. Another interesting sight was a man wearing overalls and a bluetooth headset. Alone, neither of these items would be remarkable but the combination was slightly frightening. (Note: I like to call people who wear the bluetooth headset even when they are not currently using it "The Borg" from Star Trek fame. The Tiki Gal pretends she thinks this is funny almost every time. She's a pretty good sport.)

Saturday evening, Dale and Carol came over to the Tiki Hut for drinks. We decided to skip the cards and instead sat on the patio and chatted. Carol and the Tiki Gal started with a Tiki Gal's Tropical Punch and then had Squeezy Squeezys. Dale and I tried some of the beers purchased on the beer run of the previous weekend.

Sapporo Reserve

Color: Golden

Skunkiness: 0 skunks. Carol said it smelled like feet.

Taste: Hoppy and a little bitter. The Tiki Gal said it tasted like Budweiser. I will disclose that she hasn't had Budweiser in at least twenty years, however, so this comparison may not be accurate.

Comments: Sapporo Reserve was unremarkable. Dale thinks that regular Sapporo may be better. We'll have to try it to find out.

Carol Rating: Carol wouldn't try this beer due to the previously mentioned smell of feet.

Rating: 3.25 pints out of 5.

Kostritzer Schwarzbier (Black Beer) Black Lager

Color: Black

Skunkiness: 0 skunks. Smelled like coffee.

Taste: A little hoppy at first. More malt and yeast flavors were prevalent as it warmed.

Comments: Wikipedia says that Johann Wolfgang von Goethe sustained himself on black beer from Kostritzer during a period of illness. I think I'll try this the next time I get sick.

Carol Rating: 5 on a scale of 1 or 5. The Tiki Gal also liked this beer. So much, in fact, that I was afraid I wasn't going to get any of it.

Rating: 4 pints.

Dale and I also had an old favorite.

Paulaner Salvator

Comments: Salvator is perfect for a calm, early summer night under the stars. It is also perfect for a frigid, deep winter night under a bridge but that is beside the point.