Praying for Tacos
Dear Creator, please allow more time for me to get to the Off the Rez truck so that I may purchase and enjoy many, many Indian tacos (Food Truck City, May 2012). Amen.
I’m not surprised that poker pro Barry Shulman advised students not to play poker for a living (School of Poker, May 2012). When I interviewed him 10 years ago for my book The Poker MBA, he said that a good business is one where you can make money in your sleep. Good businesses do what the best of jobs cannot: create passive/residual income.
So even though playing poker professionally has its flaws, should a course in poker be mandatory in business school? Until you can find me a better tool to teach decision making, risk management, and strategic thinking, I’m moving all in with a yes.
Oh what a great way to see this beautiful state we live in (when the sun does come out): I have a 1970 bus like the one on your Road Trips cover (Road Trips 2012, April 2012), except it’s blue and white. I am turning it into a camper.
Soap Lake Soap Box
Driving anywhere close to 80 on many of the roads in Central Washington (other than the Interstate), you are not only breaking the law, you are an extremely negligent driver and should be fined accordingly (Road Trips 2012, April 2012). Additionally, the Soap Lake lava lamp monument idea is sitting on a back burner of civic things to do by the city. The current controversy is the suggestion of reverting the name of the lake from Soap Lake to Lake Smokiam, a name it first had when christened by the early Native Americans. The early history associated with the lake is much more than your author shared. Central Washington has more than retiree homes and farm equipment dealers. I am not sure why you think you need to portray the east side of the state in such a manner, but you aren’t doing anyone, including yourselves, a favor by doing so.
Moses Lake, Washington
After years of public school activism and writing about public education, I will be sending one of my kids to a private middle school next year, a decision I am struggling to make peace with (Public v. Private, April 2012). Parents who have been in this situation have counseled me that we can continue to work on behalf of public education (I’ll have one kid still in public school), which may be a way of rationalizing our actions. Maybe this is a further rationalization, but I think explaining to our kids the amount of angst that goes into these decisions is education in and of itself. In the meantime, next year I’ll be able to determine whether in education you get what you pay for.
Alison Krupnick, Education Reporter
Doggie Bag Etiquette
Most of our customers scoff and look offended when I ask if they’d like me to box something up (The Waiter Who Assumed I Didn’t Want My Leftovers, Nosh Pit Blog, April 23, 2012). Plate aside, deep in conversation definitely sends a signal that you’re all done. Server fail for not making sure, but you have lots of power there, too.
Out of Sight, Out of Mind
Totally agree with the above comment: “when in doubt, just box it” (The Waiter Who Assumed I Didn’t Want My Leftovers, Nosh Pit Blog, April 23, 2012). Checking on a table is a necessity; I would normally stop by the table to fill waters and linger—making my presence known, but not interrupting a great conversation. But when you push a plate off to the side and out of the way, this is a signal that says to me as a server, “I’m done, take it away.” Almost 10 out of 10 times, when someone is planning on taking something home, they keep it in front of them so they can be sure to instruct the server of their doggy bag plans.
Dinner and a Recipe
I’m a lifetime server. I cringe when I toss out decent morsels of dinner that would make an excellent breakfast or lunchtime snack (The Waiter Who Assumed I Didn’t Want My Leftovers, Nosh Pit Blog, April 23, 2012). I won’t do it. I will very politely interrupt your lively conversation (usually starting with an apology), not to ask, but to suggest that you take it home and experiment with your leftovers and some eggs.
Bye-Bye Chez Shea
Chez Shea has been one of my favorite hideouts in Seattle for years (The Culinary Prescience of Soon-to-Shutter Chez Shea, Nosh Pit Blog, April 19, 2012). If ever there were a place in Seattle I felt was “mine,” Chez Shea was it. It’s been my go-to for out-of-town guests, my place to impress business associates, my escape to cuddle up with a glass of rose and escargot, my secret resource for takeout to dazzle discerning dinner party guests, and a place I always felt
at home. I’m heartsick to see you go.
Barbara Sharkey Smith was my mom (The Future Was Ours, February 2012). We had those 2,000 copies of her children’s book Seymour at the Seattle World’s Fair in a closet in our home on Capitol Hill for 10 years. I still have my copy. Even now the friends I grew up with remember Seymour. I still remember the excitement of the fair, the wonder of the Space Needle, the Bubbleator, the Monorail, and the Wild Mouse. And Seymour gave me and my sister the feeling that we were a direct part of it all. It was a great time to grow up in Seattle.