Sometimes You Just Need a Good Hot Dog

In an ideal universe, lobster tail soaked in drawn butter, thick burgers lathered with three different cheeses, and fat T-bone steaks accompanied by long baked potatoes slopped with sour cream would be the healthy foods while celery and lettuce would be the things to avoid.  Unfortunately, when it comes to eating, the universe we’re stuck with is far from that ideal and with heart disease, high cholesterol, and diabetes to contend with, there isn’t much on the various doctors' top ten good foods lists that's worth putting on one’s plate and sitting down to enjoy.  Sometimes you just need a good hot dog, though, and today was one of those days.

 

 Just a two mile ride from where I hang my helmet Abe’s Hot Dogs is never too far away nor inconvenient a drive especially on a sunny scooterin’ weather kind of day.

Abe’s Hot Dogs in downtown Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania has been in business since God knows how long.  It seems like its been there forever, and that’s a good thing for us hot dog connoisseurs to whom a good chili dog is worth its weight in prime steak.  If chili dogs aren’t something you eat out your way, dear reader, you’re missing out on something wonderful not only to the tastebuds but to one’s overall sense of being cultured.  Okay, that’s not my tongue in my cheek there; it must be a delicious chili dog!

There’s the man himself doing his thing as he does day in and day out right there in the front window of Abe’s. 

With Abe (if that's really the current owner's name) working the dogs in the window right there by the door it’s dinner and a show for a very reasonable price, under $3 for two dogs with the works.  (Brown mustard, diced onions, and that secret recipe chili sauce.)  Note that the chili sauce in this case is like chili con carne without the beans rather than the tomato based kind of chili sauce that you can get in a jar at the supermarket.

Any meal is better when one is out on the scooter and it’s no exception as I munch my dogs in a parking lot across the street from Abe’s.  I chose that spot to enjoy my lunch because I knew I’d be able to get some pictures of the dogs and the place itself.

To their credit, there are two entirely different chili dog businesses here in the valley, both using the name “Abe’s Hot Dogs.”  They’ve been in business on opposite sides of the Susquehanna River, though only a few miles apart, peacefully sharing the name since a time when lawsuits over things like using the same name for different businesses were practically unheard of.  (I remember reading once about a gentleman in Scotland whose name was McDonald being sued by THE McDonald’s chain for daring to use the name McDonald’s for his business.)  The Abe’s across the river makes just as delicious but slightly different chili dogs. 

And there it is, ladies and gentlemen!  One perfectly put-together Abe’s chili dog, just the way that God and nature intended for hot dogs to be served!

To be certain, I’m generally much more aware of and abiding by the foods on the “good list” for me, but sometimes, as I noted in the title of this post, you just need a good hot dog.  I hemmed and hawed for days about getting a couple of these delicious treats for myself.  The weather wasn’t right.  I wasn’t that hungry.  I had plenty of worthwhile leftovers in the fridge.  And so on.  But today I had no excuses to give myself and the dogs won out.

Yes, every bite down to the very last was just what the doctor ordered.  Wait.  I did mean that figuratively and not literally.  I’m fairly certain that my cardiologist would not have suggested that today’s lunch fare was a good one for me.

As with riding the scooter, eating “off the list” is always a calculated risk.  I was wondering on my way back from Abe’s if I’ll leave this world a little sooner because I ate those dogs, if the balance between giving up things that I like for the sake of living a little longer is worth it.  I worked with a guy years ago who had big time heart disease who knew the ropes and the risks but continued to eat anything and everything he loved.  I never did decide if I admired him for choosing to LIVE his life to the fullest rather than exist in moderation into a miserable old age.

If you plan to drive through the Wilkes-Barre area and might be looking for some genuine valley food Abe’s is definitely a place I’d recommend.  It’s small on size and seating, but BIG on taste and valley ambiance. 

Since this chicken hasn't taken the scooter to the Lehigh Valley yet, it should be noted that if he did, they would be Yocco's chili dogs filling his belly for lunch.  They're maybe, possibly, in some ways, perhaps a little better than either Abe's, but that's for one's own taste buds to decide.  And if you happen to be passing through there and drop into a Yocco's, you'll need to order a chocolate milk to wash your doggies down lest you get eyed like some out of towner who doesn't know a lick about good chili dog cuisine.

Back in Scooter Limbo

I got awfully spoiled by the warm weather two weeks ago or so.  Not only did I take the scooter out multiple times, but I actually did a once around town in short sleeves!  Not so now with the temperatures making up for the warmth I had been enjoying, and with rain to boot.  I've been stuck in the house and in the car for the past week and not enjoying it one bit.

I took pictures the last time I was out, intending to do a blog post, but then they moved onto the back burner and whatever I might've written then never coalesced in my noggin so I'll stick them in here randomly for the hell of it.  Never mind that things still aren't coming together in my brain, but I only did a single post here in March and felt ashamed when I realized it so here I am with a veritable diarrhea of words but a constipation of ideas posting anyway.

Speaking of the short sleeves, last year on the first day when it was warm enough for me to take my first ride in short sleeves, shorts, and sneakers I made the mistake of posting a picture of myself on the scooter dressed as such to one of the Facebook scooter boards.  Right away the ATGATT people were all over my sorry ass.  I'm pretty tolerant, but I can't stand people with a "cause" whether it's their goal to have every newborn baby sucking on its momma's nipples or trying to shame folks into dressing like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles every time they jump on their scooters to run for a jug of milk.  Do what you want, and leave the rest of us alone.  We don't need your sermonizing!  Riding is always a calculated risk.  It's not like we don't know that.

 I had to drag myself up early this morning to head to the parish church where the 8:00 Mass was being offered for the repose of the soul of my daddy.  (A Catholic thing.)  I sat with Mom and my sister.  Today would have been Mom and Dad's 60th wedding anniversary. Well, I suppose it still is, but without him around to celebrate it, it's kind of a moot thing.  I sat there before Mass started just thinking about various parts of my life with Dad, among them how when I was born he was the age at which my younger daughter is now.  Still a kid, practically, at 26, but with a little mouth to feed and a little butt to kick when it was appropriate.  I was afraid when he left us three years ago I was going to find hundreds of reasons why I'd still NEED him around, but thankfully it hasn't been that way.

Yeah, I guess it's kind of stupid, me writing away here with the pictures having nothing to do with what's coming out of my fingertips, but I've done this too often - getting a set of pictures together while intending to do a post and then blowing them out of the "Scootin'" directory because I didn't use them in a timely fashion.  What's the worst that will happen?  Somebody might post a shitty comment?  I think I can live with that.

Oh... I added a new gadget to my arsenal - a Pebble Classic smart watch.  I debated with myself about getting it for weeks, visiting the store every now and then and mulling it over, convincing myself that it would be a great thing to have, and then just as quickly telling myself that it would be just another thing that I don't need that will fall by the wayside soon enough.  

The novelty is still with me though I've had it for a few weeks now.  It's VERY handy when I'm on the scooter and get a text, or a Hangouts or Facebook Messenger notification, or an e-mail on one of my primary mail accounts.  There's the message right on my wrist and it hardly takes a momentary glance down to see if it's something worth pulling over for, or something I can reply to at leisure as is usually the case.  And if the phone starts ringing, the name of the caller appears so I know if I should tap the Bluetooth and take the call or just let it ring its merry little dinger off and go into voice mail.

Oh, my!  The sun started shining brightly since I began writing here.  Gonna check the temperature and forecast and see if a scooter ride is in order.  As is typical, I have absolutely nowhere I need to go.  Scootering is more of a want to than a need to kind of thing anyway, and I like it that way!

Oh! What a Smile!

Riding is often the highlight of an otherwise uneventful day, and especially this winter I’ve been enjoying my rides with maximum pleasure in knowing that I’m beating the weather at its own game and riding my ass off in December, January, and February, months during which I’m sometimes grounded for many weeks on end with snow and ice on the ground.  While I always enjoy my rides, I’ve had some of the very best lately, not because I’ve gone anywhere significantly grand, but simply because I’m getting time in on the bike that I wouldn’t normally get.

Now when I’m out there on two wheels, I’m just about in the happiest mood I’m in for a day. There’s something exhilarating about any ride, even if it’s just around the corner to drop something off at my Mom’s or to cruise mindlessly about the neighborhood for the sake of being out on the scooter.  I often imagine that drivers who are going past me in the opposite direction are envious of the joyful look on my face because I’m sure that my grin is always lighting up what might already be a day full of sunshine.

Because of that amazing happiness, joy, glee, or whatever it might best be called I’ve always imagined my face when I’m out on the scooter to be beaming with a huge smile.  I can feel my smile muscles tightening sometimes so much that all I can think of is my mom saying, “If you keep making that face it’s going to stay that way.” In the case of a scooter smile, though, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.  Or so I thought when I decided to mount the newest camera in my arsenal on the windshield of the scooter where it would snap a picture of my delightful smile every 30 seconds.

When I get to the end of my street and hang a left I’m immediately at the beginning of a wooded stretch of road that connects my city with the next town.  Although it’s posted at 25 mph, most cars take it at around 45 mph, although occasional scooter riders have been known to do it at 65 or better because it’s a bit like a quick ride on a roller coaster with a few twists and a couple of dips and rises as it meanders through the woods and back into civilization about three quarters of a mile later.  Surely the grin would be from ear to ear on my face as I made my way through there.

 Guess again.  The camera suggested that perhaps I’d lost my best friend rather than have started out on a day that allowed me to enjoy my ride in only a light jacket.

A little ways up takes me past the street on which my best friend lived when we were in high school, and onto which I made a left turn thousands of times between ’72 and ’76.  He lives in Boston now, but hardly a day goes by when we don’t share some of the details of our days with each other in an e-mail or two. Surely my face would be lit up like a veritable Christmas tree while passing there!  Nope.  I looked like a damned funeral director with that somewhat sympathetic yet stoic face that each of them must practice in a mirror for at least an hour a day.

Now, mind you, as I rode and knew that the camera was dutifully capturing my smiles I was extra conscious of the look on my face and was deliberately giving it that shit eating grin that I’m always convinced is on my face when I’m riding.  I have no idea why the camera was doing such a lousy job of capturing my joie de vivre, but it wasn’t even coming close.  

 The longer and farther I rode the happier I was in thinking of the light hearted post that was going to come from those pictures showing my 1,000 watt smiles.  With no view finder or screen on the camera itself there was no way of stopping on occasion to see just how much of my happiness was showing, so on I rode just grinning all the way because I was enjoying myself to the max and giving what I just knew were my very best smiles to the camera.

Dear heavens!  A scowl even appeared to be on my face at times.  How could my smiling muscles be betraying me so much?

 

All I can think by way of explanation for why EVERY single one of the pictures of my face show me as less than thrilled is that the seriousness of being hyper attentive to my surroundings – the condition of the road, the actions of other drives, the movements of other vehicles around me, potential obstacles in my path – is on my face more than the fun I’m feeling.  And if that’s the case, it’s not so bad.  I’d rather know that I’m taking the serious precautions that need to be taken when one isn’t in the protective covering afforded by a car and is much more vulnerable to the effects of any accident that might be just around the next corner, cause I’d rather get back from my ride with a miserable puss than to die with a big smile on my face that won’t necessarily be a sure ticket at the pearly gates.