Multi-cultural explosion

The Phenom and I noticed something rather strange in this little mountain town. Now, for many years, I've suspected that a good portion of the population here were really ex-hippies and subversive types who were hiding out from the rest of the world. Not exactly off the grid . . . but on the fringe enough to not arouse much attention. After all, this is the sort of place where a monkey could matriculate into the local schools without picketing or protests. (Speaking of, the other day while visiting the local shops, we ran into a former teacher of mine . . . and I was pleased to see that he'd pretty much forgotten me . . . meaning that I didn't create such a negative impression as to haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. Good to know.)

Anyway, yesterday we ate lunch at our local favorite "pan-asian" place. I was disappointed to see that the original owner/cook has sold the place. (Funny story . . . the original family who opened the eatery saw themselves as something of the moral gatekeepers for the community and would out anyone having an affair. They once congratulated the Old Folks for "getting back together" after they witnessed the Old Man taking a pretty young blonde -- his daughter -- to lunch one day.) Anyway, the place is now owned an operated by a hispanic family. I'm sure they are quite good cooks . . . but it is rather startling to find that the best item on a chinese/japanese buffet is the taquitos.

Later, when we went out for a beer . . . we went to a place with Guadalupe in it's name. The menu boasted lovely salsas and central american type dishes. But, not a mexican beer to be found . . . they had a great selection . . . of european and micro-brew beers. Additionally, the place was decorated with japanese lanterns.

There was a band setting up . . . they seemed to have a "will play for beer" type of arrangement. We saw them drink plenty of beer . . . but there was no actual playing of music. Which was too bad. We had a bet over who they'd be covering . . . dave matthews or the bangles.

The other aspect of this little adventure that has the Phenom unnerved is that the Old Folks don't lock their doors. Most of the time, the doors aren't even closed when they leave. They like to boast that they can park their car in the mega mart parking lot, leave the keys on the dash, and the car will be unmolested when they return. So, last night, when we were headed in from our drinking adventure, I headed for the back door. This is a trick I learned in my younger days. The front and side door make too much noise . . . the back door slides open easy and quiet. Only, it seems the Old Folks have learned a trick too. They booby-trapped the back entrance with the metal bird feeders . . . which I kicked over in the dark . . . spraying bird seed all over the floor. Fortunately, the Old Folks are both deaf as posts and they heard none of the commotion.