Today for lunch I caved and we went to the Chinese buffet. I hate a large number of crunchy things that I merely ate for the pleasure of hearing them crunch. There's not that much on the Atkins diet that is pleasingly crunchy (other than... well, celery, some raw veggies or the infinite progression of pork rinds that some low carbers eat.

Add to this that Marilynn and I went to the same Chinese buffet for dinner, and you can see where this is headed.

One thing with this Chinese buffet that I don't like is that their fortune cookies have advertising on the back. Yup. Advertising. What's worse? I think the ads influence what the fortunes will say!

I don't have it anymore, but the ad on the one at lunch said something like, "How much can you save by selling your house yourself? Answer: THOUSANDS!" and a number to some sleazy outfit that is supposed to help you do just that. What'd the fortune say? "Pennies from heaven will bless you soon!"

Coincidence? Tonight, we had these two:

1. Advertisement: "Are you reading this ad? Everyone reads their fortune! ADVERTISE HERE!"
   Fortune: "There will be many surprises; unexpected gains are likely."
2. Advertisement: "A Major Breakthrough In Advertising! A new and exciting way to reach people! Increase your business now!" (Apparently, they need all the help they can get selling these 2"x0.35" ads.)
   Fortune: "Ideas you may believe are absurd ultimately lead to success."

"You don't think there is someone writing these fortunes just for us?" Marilynn said jokingly.

Nope. But they were right about one thing. They are definitely absurd.

Backgrounder:

I think Marilynn has gone insane. Lately whenever we're getting into the car, Marilynn has been listening to this "country oldies" station. This is rock-girl who spent a few minutes in the geek room gazing longingly at a really old copy of a program from Lollapalooza during the last weekend. (You know, back when Lollapalooza could sell tickets.)

Something is wrong with this picture.

It used to be that we listened to this stuff on road trips. You know, once you get outside a major metropolitan area, only four three formats haunt the FM dial: hip hop, Christian fuckers¹ and country. Lots of country. So after we got tired of singing about smackin' our hoes and buying spiiiiiiiinners for our ride, we'd turn on some old country and sing along and laugh. However, since then it's evolved into so much more that I ever bargained for.

Remember I said that I dropped a hundred dollars at Amazon yesterday? Well, a good chunk of it was for "The Essential Willie Nelson", which she said she wanted to get. Now sure, I like some Willie, too — I mean, he's just an old hippie, right? Anyway, I'm from Texas, I'm allowed to at least know the words to these songs, because I was subjected to them so much.

What's her excuse? Could her heroes have always been cowboys?

A conversation on the way home from the aforementioned Chinese dinner as we listened to a late seventies country tune that you can't help but want to sing along with, even if you will want to rip your ears off in horror by the halfway point of the song:

Me: "The only reason you like this song is because you missed the opportunity to go to one of those dinner theaters in Pigeon Forge."

Her: "Then we'll have to go back to Tennessee for vacation."

Me: "Maybe someday. But... when we do go back, we have to stay at the park. I mean, more than driving through, and more than stopping for twenty minutes. I mean for a few days."

She raises her eyebrows at me.

Me: "What? You can't see me camping? Is that scary?"

Her: "How can we do that? You want to go to the park with a cripple?"

Me: "Fine. Then I guess we'll never go back, then."

And she says that I'm negative! That gets really hard to deal with after a while. I can only imagine what I have sounded like to others before.

But hey, if we did that and stayed out there, the only radio we probably could have picked up would have been more of this country crap.

¹ There's a whole story about the origin of the phrase "Christian fuckers" in the vernacular of our relationship. Someday I have to tell that story...

restlessmind