Monday night, I dined barside at Outback Steak House in Burbank, California. I've never had cause to be a winging pom due to a dining experience at an Outback Steak House, and I've dined barside at Outbacks in Dallas, Detroit and now Los Angeles. I have cause to think their theme has leaked into my subconciousness. I have referred to my Chevy S-10 as me Bonzer Truck before. (Oy my gosh, the truck is no longer is production?)
I have written a journal entry entitled "In the days of Bonzer Tucker". Bonzer meaning good and tucker meaning food, and the whole phrase an allusion to the song, "In the Days of Wine and Roses". So much for romance when I'm unable to think of more in the evening than lining my stomach with nicely broiled, cardiologist-pleasing sized steak.
I'm sure my affection for Outback has roots in my tutelage in English Teaching at Michigan State University by a visiting professor from Australia. He made us write stories, picking out Aussie Outback phrases to fill them out. So when I bed down on the ground with a bedroll, I'm "humping my bluie". From that class, I picked up that word: BONZER. Same number of syllables as "Bully", emphasis on the first syllable, it is fun to say.
So how does Outback Steakhouse connect to Texas? Last night, an acquaintance I met at the bar repaired to Outback's outdoor lounge to smoke and talk. A talented and exqusitely trained musician, he had finished a rehersal session, and he was cooling down where one of the waitresses was his friend. We had heard of a staff waitress named Gennie who sang Karaoke locally, so we asked each waitress, "Are you Gennie the Karaoke Queen"? It's not bad as icebreaker questions go. It gave us an opening with Sandra the Actress and Lana from Plano. These are not real names, though.
The morning before, I had driven west on a street paralleling the Los Angeles River, and I noticed Magnolia trees with newly popping Magnolia blossoms. After a brief soujourn in Texas, as a temporary Texan, I knew that at heart, every woman in Texas loved the immaculate white Magnolia blossom. For Lana, she fondly remembered her childhood backyard, yearly flooded by spring rain filing Collin Creek, and the waxy leafed Magnolia tree that burst forth in blossoms just for her. My time as a Temporary Texan wasn't entirely wasted because I know about Texas and Magnolias. Lana from Plano wore a pair of large blue Texas stars from her ears, too. You can take a Texan to California, but you can't take the Texan out of the girl.
I'm not as wise about the Magnolia mafia, but when your told to pass the napkin ring, do so immediately. The woman who divulged the existence of the Magnolia mafia to me was cruise-shipping in the Gulf of Mexico, and her ship had docked in Key West. So I chatted with her on the bar stools at Sloppy Joe's. She was serving as a voluntary guide for those going offshore for the day, and wore a nametag of office. Her mom stayed on board the ship. As I took my leave of this Texan damsel, she held a little gift in your hand. "This is for you, young man. You'll need it in your business." She opened her hand, and gave me a tiny bottle of Tabasco, cruise-ship size.
Outback Mates Rate Higher Tipping Weights
There Won't Be A Collector's Club for the S-10
In the Days Of Wine and Roses, Jack Lemmon Bought Wine with a Cork and Listened to Andy Williams
Would Hemingway Drink at Sloppy Joe's AGAIN?
You Need It For Your Business: Tabasco
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