Virtual-Doug

The Geographic Bachelor Who Eats Well

The Mystery Guest Blogger (otherwise known as my wife) is in Ohio now, along with her mother and brothers.  They’re there for a family reunion.  I opted to stay home by myself, which usually means I eat out of a can.  Opening a can of baked beans and heating some hot dogs is the extent of the trouble I go to to feed myself.

But - on the weekends, Trang visits.

And she cooks - I mean she cooks!

(Click on the photos to see larger versions.)

Shrimp, dusted in a little flour, wrapped in rice paper, and quick fried in some oil.  Of course some dipping sauce, made from nước mắm (fish sauce), some sliced fresh peppers (the hotter the better), a little garlic, and carrot slices to make it look nice, are essential.

Maybe the next time I do a posting on this topic, I will have to do a self-portrait so you can see the pleasure Trang’s food brings me.  How do you say “yummy” in Vietnamese?

Time for a Haircut (Ballinger, Texas)

Ross needed a haircut, but he had a problem - he would have to break in a new barber.  Eddie had cut Ross’ hair for many many years, but Eddie had passed away a week earlier..

There’s not a lot of barbers to pick from in Ballinger, Texas.  Eddie had run his barber shop since 1964, but Sarah arrived from Odessa last December, making Ballinger a two-shop town - at least for awhile.

(Be sure to click on each photo - you will see a larger version of the picture.)

Not that Ross minded having a woman for his barber - he just wanted a good hair cut.  Sarah had been  cutting hair for almost forty years - and Ross had nothing to worry about.  Hers is a nice comfortable place - and it is undoubtedly a barber shop.

Ross sat in the chair as the place began to fill up with other customers.  Most conversations began with “How much rain did you get at your place?” and Sarah chatted with each of them.  A smile and a “I’ll be right with you” greeted the new comers.  The barber shop may have been new, but all the customers were old friends.

As with all good barbers, Sarah pays attention to beards and mustaches too.  Sarah asked if the  customer wanted his mustache trimmed by merely cocking her head and waving the clippers, and he responded with a nod of the head.  Who says you have to use words to talk?

As the morning wore on, the shop became hotter - the air conditioner was out.  By mid-afternoon, the heat of a west Texas day was too much.  Sarah called it a day, left a sign on the door and went home.  All that has changed in Ballinger is the name of the barber - her shop is the new gathering place to swap news.

The Coffee Club

(NOTE:  I’m traveling as I write this story about the good folks of Ballinger, Texas, a small town in west Texas.)

They’re there every morning except Sundays.  The attendance varies from three to seventeen, but somebody has been there to drink coffee every day since 1948.  Hilda, the waitress, doesn’t bother to ask – she just brings a cup of coffee to each new arrival.  Some will eat some breakfast, but the attraction is not coffee, but talk.

Just talk.

It’s an ordinary eatery, the kind found in most West Texas towns.  The Beefmaster Steak House in Ballinger is an unassuming place that’s open for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Pickup trucks are parked outside and the smell of fresh coffee waits for you inside.  The Beefmaster doesn’t pretend to be fancy – just welcoming, with hearty fare on the menu.

(Be sure to click on each photo to see the full sized version.)

Frank is often the first to arrive.  The 76 year old retiree from the U. S. Department of Agriculture said he “dropped hankies” on Texas Friday nights for many years until age caught up with him.  The mere mention of high school football brings on stories from everyone about the glories of Bearcat football, despite a horrible season last year.  When playing arch-rival Winters, there are more people at the stadium than live in the town.  Though classified as a 2A school (only 1A schools have fewer students), size does not diminish the importance of football in Ballinger.

Frank is also in charge of “The Coffee Game” today, and he has already written the magic number down on a napkin.  It’s a guessing game of numbers, and the winner is the person who selects the magic number.  The “winner” gets to pick up the tab that day.  Frank usually waits until he’s fairly certain that everyone who’s going to be there that day has arrived.  Then the guessing begins, with each guess carefully written down.  As might be expected, the newcomer “won” the Coffee Game, much to the delight of the regulars.

Other regulars join in the crowd – the oldest member at 90, a retired hospital CEO and his wife and the twins who do not look like twins.  The senior member no longer runs the Coffee Game – in fact, he doesn’t attend often because he can’t drive, but he’s sure to be there when his daughter visits.  Now a retired judge he regales the group with stories of World War II when he taught others to fly at the Army Air Field near Ballinger before departing for Europe himself.  He may need a walker, but his mind is sharp and his sense of humor sharper.

Eventually, the group starts to thin, each paying for any food he bought – but leaving the tab for the  coffee for the winner of the Coffee Game to pay.  Hilda smiles and chats and wishes them all a good day, knowing she will see each of them tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow’s coffee group – when they’ll solve the problems of the world all over again.