Doyle's Fish & Hicky Bar

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Saturday, April 17, 2010

Whiskey Dick's Bike and Car Show

Written  Aug 2001.

 Saturday the 28th of July was a rare day for me and my shovel.  Everything was working, nothing needed repair, the sky was blue, and the my lady wanted to ride.  As every item I just mentioned can go to hell in a couple a minutes, I didn’t mess around.  Off to Whiskey Dick’s we went  for the Bike and Car Show.  It threatened rain that morning and did actually sprinkle on me in the driveway.  That moisture made a lot of bikers and car owners puss out at the ice house.  We didn’t get a drop though.
     Why I relive this weekend is based on an article I just read of Gypsy’s.  I have read her often in the free motorcycle rags found in the bike shops.  When you read someone for awhile, you begin to feel like you know them.  At least a little.  Her burnout statement had made an impression.  I was introduced to Gypsy, unbeknownst to her, at Whiskey Dick’s by a red head named Alex or Lexx, or Alexia.  Now, Lexx, is your typical red headed- model- writer- music- editor- biker- babe.   She was very talkative and friendly as she pressed L2R propaganda on us.  I also had the pleasure of watching Fat Robert take a picture of her as she straddled one of the beautiful bikes.  A beautiful pair man!  I’m speaking of her and the bike of course.
     Oh, back to Gypsy.  I never actually met this woman as she seemed preoccupied and busy, like she was on a mission or something.  After reading her article, I realize now that she actually was.  I don’t know what I expected but Gypsy is a knockout!   A lot of guys forgot what they were doing for the moment in time it took for her to walk by.  A bunch of dumb bastards frozen in position from scratching their ass to polishing their bikes.  Did time stand still?  I don’t think I’m the one to ask as I blanked out with the rest of the them.  She was wearing this bikini top too.......
     Anyway, me and the group I was with were slamming long necks and jostling for position around the fans.  Whiskey Dick’s has no ceiling fans so we had to make do with about 5 floor fans.  They were those big round 4 foot tall bastards you find in mechanic shops.  The bar had just about half of what was necessary to actually keep us cool.  Then again, maybe staying cool was impossible that day.  Every time we would hear a  new bike roll in we had to run out side to stare at it.  Did I mention that there was a bike show going on?  And a car show?  We would be standing in front of Buster’s Leathers admiring these insane rides when heat stroke would near overtake us.  Buster’s woman would then spray us down with this mist thang.  Then, feeling momentarily human again, I would buy beer for us all.  Don’t know how many times this happened.  Heat, mist, beer.  Over and over.  Twilight Zone, only with a good ending.
     In the midst of this self-induced sun trauma some glib talking bro managed to convince two bikini clad cuties to wash cars.  What kind of car?  Who cares!  Did I mention that these two were wearing bikinis?  I do remember in the wavering heat that these two poor beauties were having to wash a black vehicle.  Sheesh.  Like trying to wash a hot muffler.  Then, a burly biker hurryed by talking about a wet t-shirt contest.  I grabbed my camera and joined the stampede into the bar.  I was distracted by two rather buxom young ladies stepping into this wading pool by the building.  I don’t know about the other men present, but I was dumbfounded as it dawned on me that I was about to watch two, for real, bathing beauties battle it out in this over size wading pool.  They circled each other warily then flounced, I mean pounced!  The war was on!!  I didn’t think my poor camera could keep up.  These beautiful Amazons straining the very seams of their scant clothes pummelled and tossed each other about brutally.  I kept my camera ready for the impending explosion of breasticles to come.  One poor guy, enthralled by these feminine wrestlers got a little close and was threatened about having his favorite appendage removed by a dark haired wrestler’s teeth!  Needless to say we all backed up.  The two battlers, finally winded and generally pooped, clung to each other for long minutes and climbed slowly from the pool and went into the bar to find a fan and rest.  I was left standing there with my camera throbbing, I mean smoking.  How they managed to be so seductively violent and acrobatic and NOT LOSE THEIR TOPS will be a mystery I will sadly ponder for years.
     We all ran inside and gangbanged fans.  Did I mention that I loaned the blond wrestler a pen and she bought me a beer?    Next time I’ll bring a typewriter to loan out.
     In the midst of all this they began the loud bike contest.  Not sure who won as I couldn’t understand a word anybody said for quite awhile after that.  I drank more beer to clear the ringing outa my ears.  Amazingly it worked!  As I was taking my new ear medicine the judges gathered and began to choose the best of the best in their categories.  While they were doing their nit picking I met a lithe young lady with a white custom dresser with 76,000 miles on it.  It just goes to show, you can’t judge an iron butt by its cover, or something like that.  How these judges choose between two seemingly perfect custom bikes baffles me.  They even had a single rat bike to look at!  Don’t see many of them anymore.
     After they handed out the plaques to all the winners the place began to thin pretty fast.  We were pretty much baked through and through by that point.  We gathered ourselves up and began to consider where to go next.  Never did see  where Gypsy got off to.  Maybe she entered the wet T-shirt contest but I doubt it.  She was probably on the sidelines somewhere doing her reporting thing.   She ain’t very tall so we probably just lost her in the crowd.  Maybe we should have invited her to run with us that evening.  My group had a large time of it mainly because we don’t do it as often as we would like.  It’s a pleasant change from our daily grind.  To others it is the daily grind and I hate that for them.  We traveled to two other bars that evening and made our way home pretty late.  The only mishap being the loss of low beam on my headlight.  I pretty much blinded my bro all the way home.  Oh yeah, I could have ridden in the front but he’s so picky about that little bit of oil I’m blowing.  Hey Dirk, it wipes off!
Till the next one.
Green skies, blue lights.
dc
8/8/01

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Adventures of Jay & Doyle #1

     Me and Jay go way back.   Back when he was skinny and I had long hair.   Oh wait, I still have long hair.  Sorry Jay.
     We've hunted and fished together and worked at all the chores that pertain to that type of diversion.   His favorite chore is camp cook.    He goes on and on about the eggs, the toast, the bacon, etc.   He always ends his diatribe with a stern remark that he doesn't clean up.    I've probably heard this 50 or 60 times and by now am an excellent pot washer.  I can opt out of washing if somebody complains about the food.   Complaining results in instant KP duty.
      His excellence at cooking is only overshadowed by his snoring.    The snoring is a cross between the sound of a cement mixer and an industrial food disposal.    No that's not quite right.   Throw a couple of spoons in the disposal to get the proper effect.   Yep, that's the sound I'm talking about. 
     We had buddies show up at the camp house one evening.    The old house had several rooms and we had claimed one wall of the rearmost and built a bunk bed.    Jay on bottom and me on top.   He was afraid that he might fall out of the top so he voted me up there.  I mean if anybody is going to suffer a broken leg I suppose I'm it.    One of the new guys asked if he could throw a sleeping bag on the floor.
"Sure, you can but you better wear some ear plugs."   I show him my plugs like they are made of gold.  I hover my other hand over my hunting knife so he get's the idea of how protective I am of them.
He says, "Don't need no ear plugs.   It's only proper for hunters to belch, spit,  fart, and snore around each other.    This is the only place we can really do that sort of thing.     Don't worry about it."
     With as serious a face as I could muster, "I'm not kidding.   Get plugs of some sort.  Use a piece of newspaper or tie your socks around your head.   Old cigarette butts work in a pinch.    Jay snores worse than boar after a slop feast.    It's the most horrible thing I've ever heard.    Most men don't live to report it.   Before I had ear plugs and didn't know better I think I about ruin't this left ear.   I guess I could give you that ear plug out of charity.   It's all waxed up and ready to go."
     With absolute disgust he reiterated, "I won't need no ear plugs.   I'm just naturally tough to that sort of thing."   He looked down his nose at me and Jay and began to make his bed.
     After cards, stories, beer and whiskey, and lots of genial cussing,  we finally decide to hit the sack.    Jay warned me to go outside and relieve myself now since he didn't want a shower during the middle of the night.
     Dang that guy holds a grudge.
     We bed down and I insert my ear plugs and listen to Jay warming up.    Even though my ears were muffled I could still hear Jay snoring away.    Our buddy on the floor set up and looked incredulously at Jay.   I gave him a thumbs up.   He gave me the finger and wrapped his coat around his head.
After a few more moments I while I was watching him he sat up and started talking.   I removed the earplug to hear him whining about Jay.   Course Jay couldnt hear a thing.    He asked,   "Is that for real?   Is he doing that on purpose?   Sounds like he's strangling a pig!"
I look at him coolly.   "Ah, he'll stop in a minute or two."
The guy laid back down.   He had wrapped himself up till you could only see his eyes.
Jays snoring continued.   I drifted off.
Sensing a commotion I looked to see our buddy standing up with his sleeping bag in a wad on his head.   He stumbled into the wall and slammed into the door trying to get out of the room.   I removed my earplug to listen to him talking in a high and strained voice.
"I gotta get some SLEEP!"   He finally got through the door and fell over a guy camped out on the floor in the next room.
"What the he...!."
In a kind of a terrible man shriek I will never forget , "I gotta get some SLEEP!."
He made it to the front door, got it opened and the house settled back down.    Jay never halted his throaty, choking, fart of a snore.
I drifted back off to sleep.
Morning comes early.    Somebody's alarm went off and Jay hopped up.   I suppose hop is an exageration but he slouched through the house and opened the front door.    It didn't open right so he leaned his not inconsiderable weight against it and it slowly moved open.     Our buddy was sleeping on the freezing porch with only his upper half wrapped in his sleeping bag. He laid there shivering in a heap.   He opened his eyes and sat up to show an absolutely miserable morning face.   Eyes as red as fishing bobbers and protruding just like that.   Under those bulge eyes he had  bags as big as garden slugs.
He had slobbered in his sleep so his sleeping bag was stuck oddly to his unshaven face.   In the most pitiful voice I ever heard come from a grown man,
"I had to get some SLEEP!"
Jay says, "You should of just slept in our room.    It's cold out here."
Only my intercession kept our buddy from attempting to throw Jay off the porch.
Not sure what happened to that guy.   After the morning hunt he was simply gone.   As I gathered the pots and started washing it occurred to me that we have a little trouble keeping hunters lately.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

How to Have a Terrible Garage Sale

Originally written Aug, 2006

Since I need  items to list on Ebay I spend nearly every Saturday  morning running all over my part of town going to garage sales.  The amount I buy, determines how long I stay out doing it.  Due to the heat in the summer here I almost always quit at lunch though.  If I get a lot of items I know that Ive loaded myself down with photography, research and listing to last me several days.  While garage sales are fun, they are also dead serious work.
     That's why it annoys me so much to see them done wrong.  If you really want to have a terrible garage sale please follow these steps.
1.  Use only one sign.  Be sure and place it on a pole that no one will see.  The lower to the ground the better.  Make sure that it can't be seen until the driver is past the turn.
 2. Also please don't use a large marker to write with.  Use pencil or a light colored crayon.  That way your buyers will have to slow down and obstruct traffic (possibly risking life and limb) to read the sign.
3.  Never use a sign larger than a child's paper plate or a single sheet of of school paper.  Write all over them in small print.  Also use a small stick to tape them to.  That way whenever the wind blows the sign will fold up and no one can read it. 
4. Never use an "arrow" on your sign.  If you must, make it so small that the buyer can't see which way it is pointing till they are past the turning point.
5.  If you insist on using colored cardboard for your sign then please use black ink on blue, red ink on orange,  gray ink on green , etc.
Now that we have the rules for signage figured out here are the rules for setting up your driveway for the sale.
6.  Never put a large sign at your driveway.  No balloons on the mailbox either.  Don't do anything to draw attention to your sale on your own street.
7.  When laying out clothing to be sold be sure and throw them down in piles all over the driveway.  Never hang them up or arrange them by adult, teen, children, etc. 
8.  Be sure and have lots of mixed up mismatched clothing, broken toys, inexplicable pieces of cracked glasses, plates, plastic, bent forks and spoons,  all in a jumble in a box.  Turn the box over so  they get stepped on a lot is even better.
9.  Let buyers kids play with whatever they can get their hands on.  The toys are pretty much used and worthless and the electronic items probably wouldn't have sold anyway.
10.  If you have books be sure and leave them in piles on the driveway.  If you treat them like trash then the buyers will too.
11.  If you are selling tvs, computers, toasters,  telephones, lamps, tables, etc.  never clean them prior to the sale.  Greasy fingerprints and cigarette tar/nicotine generally do wonders for sale items.
12.  If you are selling rugs and have dogs and cats in the house please remember to not vacuum them.  The new buyer loves to see thick animal hair all over their new purchase.  Makes them smell nice too.
13.  Hopefully there will be no parking on your street and you will have to stop every buyer from parking in your driveway just because you have that power.
14  If you can't speak English that will instantly cut down on a lot of your buyers.  Definite plus!
15.  Make it impossible to test electric items.  No extension cords, no outlets, no nothing.  Even better cut the plugs off all the appliances you are selling.  Just tell your customer to replace the plug and it will work fine.
16.  Never, absolutely never have any change.  Make it impossible to be paid with a ten dollar bill and expect change back.
17.  Always ask way too much (suggested retail is best) for your wore out crap.
18.  Never offer help loading, or bags, or extra boxes.  They should have brought their own.
19.  Never smile or say hello, and especially don't welcome anybody into your driveway.  Buyers are such an interruption anyway.
20.  Be sure and stop selling whenever you are tired of it. (no matter what the fine print on your sign says).  Remember to leave all your signs up too.  It's pretty funny to see your garage sale sign up for a month at a time.   Maybe you can mess up other garage sales just a little bit and they can have the same success that you had.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Barbque Time!

This is moved from a story a wrote in January of this year.

I had the great pleasure to be a BBQ judge again this weekend. We have a small rodeo here every spring "Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo" that has numerous qualifying bbqs held for the chance at the prestigious honor of First Place Brisket, Ribs, etc.
I judged only bbq pork ribs. I could have judged brisket and chicken too but hey there was 138 entries. Enough is enough!
I had the honor of tasting 15 entries at my table and on a scale of 1 to 10 I had mainly 7s, 8s, and ONE 9.
The best round of ribs Ive ever had the pleasure to test.
The beer was free too!
Prizes for this particular contest ran over $10K so it was dead serious competition.
The winners of this get free entry into the even larger bbq contest at the main rodeo at the old Astrodome.
All for a good cause, mainly scholarships and bragging rights, both of which go far in this part of the world.
After the event while visiting different bbq teams under their respective tents I found out about a benefit for the next day for our local flower lady.
FYI, our flower lady goes from bar to bar each Fri and Sat night and sells flowers. Mainly roses. She has done this with for 20 years and it has kept her afloat due to illness and other bad luck that has affected her and her family.
As things go she wound up with breast cancer. Her insurance paid for surgery. Not long after that her day job closed down so she was left with nothing but COBRA insurance which is outrageously high and flowers sales.
Shes looking for a job now. The benefit was to tide her over and keep her electricity on, etc.
After, bbq, silent auction, live auction, cake sales, karaoke bids, raffle tickets, etc, we managed to raise 25K in cash in one day for her. I dont know the final tally but that it went over the 25K range.
This wont fix her problems but it will certainly give her some time to figure something else out.
Going home after two days of charity and fun it just occurs to me to be thankful for this great place Im in right now. Things can change in the blink of an eye but hey, as long as you got friends in this world all is not lost.
dc