Chicken Fight

There’s a great little coffee shop down the street from where we live.

It’s actually more diner than coffee shop.

But when it comes to smothered breakfast burritos, there is none better.

At least there was none better.

Six years ago.

The last time I went.

Nothing against the food, but something much bigger than the burrito has made me stay away.

No, not Jenny Craig.

Something much more divine.

I didn’t notice it the first time I went.

Or maybe the second.

But eventually I picked up that this place was more Jerry Falwell than Jerry’s Deli.

More Robert Schuller than Bob Evans.  

Every waiter was wearing a tie.

A tie with a bunch of crosses on it.

The pictures were not pictures.

They were pictures of scriptures.

And the music was not songs of Faith Hill.

Just songs of faith.

Hey I’ve got nothing against faith.

Or Faith Hill.

Nothing against scriptures.

And I certainly have nothing against smothered breakfast burritos.

But from my side of the tracks, there’s just no mixing church and steak.

And when I finally picked up that this was more a worship house than a Waffle House, I had to pull the plug.

As painful as that was.

Hey I’m a big believer in religion.

Whatever religion.

If it works for you.

For me, not so much.

Oh, I believe in God.

And I believe in believing.

But this organized religion stuff just isn’t for me.

Not in schools.

Not in politics.

And definitely not in restaurants.

Maybe that’s why this Chick-fil-A controversy has really made me sick to my stomach.

If you’ve been hiding for the last few weeks, let me get you caught up.

Dan Cathy is the President of Chick-fil-A.

Chick-fil-A is a fast-food chain.

A Christian-based fast-food chain.

So Christian, they close on Sundays.

So Christian, Cathy recently did an interview with some newspaper called the Biblical Recorder.

In that interview the subject of marriage came up.

More specifically, gay marriage.

And Cathy said this:

“We are very much supportive of the family — the biblical definition of the family unit.  We are a family-owned business, a family-led business, and we are married to our first wives. We give God thanks for that.”

“We intend to stay the course.  We know that it might not be popular with everyone, but thank the Lord, we live in a country where we can share our values and operate on biblical principles.”

That interview came two weeks after he said this on a radio show about the same subject:

"I think we are inviting God's judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say, 'We know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage.  I pray God's mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about."

Now whether you believe what Cathy is saying or not.

And I definitely do not.

That’s not the issue.

The issue is that instead of asking me if I want fries with that.

He is telling me how other people should live their lives.

He is telling me... and you... that no matter what makes you happy, if you are not playing by his rules, you can’t play.


Not to mention that Chick-fil-a has donated millions of dollars to anti-gay organizations, who shockingly oppose same-sex marriage.


Organizations, "whose primary focus is to dehumanize LGPT people and to pass laws that treat us as second-class citizens."


This according to "Equality Florida", an advocacy group for the gay community in ... Florida.


Ok... here’s the deal.

Does Cathy have the right to say what he said?

Absolutely.

The same way I have the right to get my fried chicken at KFC.

Or Popeye’s.

Or Church’s.

Uh... bad example.

I’ve been to Chick-Fil-A before.

Many times before.

But I won’t be going again.

I swear.

No matter how spicy that Spicy Chicken Deluxe Sandwich is.

Or how waffly those Waffle Fries are.

I don’t care how many times you deep fry my nuggets.

I’m not going.

Not even when you bring back that unbelievable gift of God called the Peppermint Chocolate Chip Milkshake.

I’m sure the fact that I disagree with what Cathy said has helped me reach this decision.

But the bottom line is there’s a time and a place for everything.

And everyone.

And the drive-thru window is no place to be handed a copy of the old testament.

Or the new one either.

Extra Special Happy Hour

There were about three minutes left in happy hour.

When I started crying.

Literally.

Tears coming out of my eyes.

Amazingly, it had nothing to do with the end of happy hour.

By that point we had pretty much wiped out the entire extra-value menu.

• 3 orders of chicken wings

• 2 plates of ahi tuna

• 1 bbq ribs

• 1 calamari

• 1 fried mushroom

• And six beers

Jenny Craig here we come.

Fortunately there were three of us.

So I only consumed 1/3 of the 10,000 calories.

I was midway through one of them Thai Wings when my phone rang.

It was my wife.

Normally she knows better than to disrupt me during this holiest hour of the day.

But I answered anyway.

And I’m glad that I did.

She started off the conversation by notifying me that we have done a great job as parents.

“Awwww,” I said.

But “HURRY UP, HAPPY HOUR ENDS IN THREE MINUTES!”

Is what I thought.

But she continued.

She told me one of the parents at her school came up to her today.

To talk about our 12-year old son.

Naturally her first thought was.... “what did he do now?”

But as the story continued, she quickly realized that this story was different.

This story was special.

It goes a little something like this....

Last week my son started middle school.

7th grade.

A pretty big deal.

For us.

A giant deal.

For a 12-year old.

He’s been in the same school for a few years now.

But this is the year he becomes one of the big boys.

The boy who gets a locker.

The boy who gets some freedom.

And the boy who gets to sit wherever he wants for lunch. 

During his lunch break on Thursday, my boy was sitting with a bunch of his boys in the cafeteria.

Just like he always does.

As he prepared to woof down his meal, his eyes wandered.

To another table.

Another table of seventh grade boys.

The cool guys.

Well as these... cool guys... were getting ready to enjoy their lunch.

They were joined by another boy from their grade.

A “special” boy.

A “slow” boy.

A boy who spends part of his day in a different part of the school.

Learning at a different level.

Well apparently the cool kids didn’t like the idea of a new lunch partner.

Or maybe there wasn’t enough room for all the cool people.

Or maybe they didn’t like the idea of that lunch partner. 

Whatever the reason.

They all got up.

One by one.

And left the table.

Leaving the “special” boy not feeling so special.

All by himself.

A feeling he’s probably felt.

More than once.

Now it would’ve been very easy for my son.

Or any 12-year old boy.

To see this, ignore it and go on with their lunch.

And their day.

But apparently it wasn’t easy for my son.

In fact when he saw the boy sitting all alone at the table.

He put his stomach on hold.

And let his heart take over.

My son picked up his lunch.

Got up from his table.

And joined the other boy.

For a special lunch.

For two.

One of the moms saw the whole thing and quickly reported back to my wife.

As my wife started sharing this story with me, I quickly figured out where it was headed.

And before she was done.

I was finished.

With tears filling up in my eyes.

Not the first time I’ve broken down at the end of happy hour.

And not the first time I’ve cried in my beer.


But this time it was for a good reason.

No Waffling Here

I used to love those commercials.

You know the ones where the most sugary of sugary cereals were “part of a well-balanced breakfast.”

And I used to believe those commercials too.

Basically, they placed a big bowl of Cereal X next to a plate of eggs with bacon and toast and orange juice and milk.

The “balanced” part was the fact that they showed about nine food groups.

The “well” part?

I’m still not sure.

But my parents bought the cereal.

And that was all that mattered.

After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Mom says it.

Denny says it.

They say it.

"They" include a nutritionist at the Mayo Clinic who said “eating breakfast reduces your hunger later in the day.”

And a website I’ve never heard of said “children who regularly ate breakfast had better test scores and better behavior.”

And the American Dietetic Association who reported that “adults who eat breakfast have an easier time losing weight.”

Now I’ll buy most of that, but as for this stuff about losing weight.

I’m throwing the red challenge flag.

Clearly the ADA has never been to the Waffle House.

That’s where my family and probably a couple hundred thousand of others dined on Sunday morning.

There are more than 1,600 Waffle Houses... Waffle Homes?... across 25 of our great states.

Serving well-balanced breakfasts.

Well balanced, if you count Waffles, Eggs, Bacon, Hash Browns, Chili and Cheese Omelette, Biscuits, Toast.

The Texas Bacon Cheesesteak Melt Sandwich.

And Pecan Pie for dessert.

At least that’s what we had.

All of that.

And we weren’t the only ones.

This is the second time we’ve been to our local Waffle House in 2011.

And both times the place has been packed.

And based on the stats listed at wafflehouse.com, they haven’t had too many empty seats since they opened up.

In 1955.

Since then, the Waffle House has served:

495,264,367 Waffles

957,041,599 Cups of Coffee

1,173,838,328 Hashbrown

370,545,935 Sausage Patties

786,449,152 Bacon Strips

14,899,594 Slices of Ham

1,527,602,959.24 Eggs

22,217,455 Slices of Pie

123,587,123 T-bone Steaks

115,220,427 Hamburger

479,312,699 Glasses of Coke

1,108,574,633 Order of Grits

72,567,509 Cheese n' Eggs

204,164,660 Omelets

And counting.

And we added to it.

Our waitress did a wonderful job of making us feel special.

Her name was Diamond.

In fact, I hadn’t been served this well by a lady named Diamond since the last time I was in Vegas.

My coffee cup never made it below the half-way mark.

Not bad for $1.40.

Take that Starbucks.

In fact the entire meal for five was like $38.

Including the tip.

And the 35 extra cents I paid to upgrade my bread.

To Raisin Toast.

I just wish I would’ve asked for it dry, without butter.

Not that it would’ve mattered.

There’s not a whole lot of things Jenny Craig would eat on that menu.

And they make everything sound so good.

For example, a sign says the T-Bone Steak is “delicious”.

And that the Chicken Noodle soup is “mazing.”

No A.

And that Waffle House is “the World’s Leading Server of REAL Hash Browns.”

And these aren’t just any Hash Browns.

These are REAL.

And you can order them nine different ways:

• Smothered (Sauteed Onions)
• Covered (Melted Cheese)
• Chunked (Grilled Ham)
• Diced (Grilled Tomatoes)
• Peppered (Spicy Jalapenos)
• Capped (Grilled Mushrooms)
• Topped (Bert’s Chili)
• Country (Sausage Gravy)

Or... “All the Way”.

I didn’t ask.

But I’m guessing “All the Way” means 1-8.

Which gets you a free call to 9-1-1.

If there was one thing that didn’t work for me, it was the location of our table.

We were the ones closest to the swinging door, which opened up to the storage area.

The storage area which included a hanging sticky fly trap.

A full hanging sticky fly trap.

In full view.

It looked like they hadn't changed it since 1955.

Honestly I didn’t need to see that to complete the meal.

But it’s amazing how a full plate of well done REAL Hash Browns can distract you from anything.

Well, almost anything.

At one point my son dropped his precious piece of bacon.

In most cases, we play by the five-second rule.

Not at Waffle House.   Too many footsteps.

You drop it, you lose it.

No five-second rule here.

Not for us.

Fortunately there were still plenty of other delicious options to complete his well-balanced meal.