Playing With Transmission Fluid & A Lime Green Village Creek Blue Bayou Alligator

Today, when I went walking with the Indian Ghosts who haunt Arlington's Village Creek Natural Historical Area I was a little surprised to arrive at the Village Creek Blue Bayou to find what looked like a lime green alligator climbing out of the bayou on to a perch on the Blue Bayou overlook.

Visiting with what looked to be a lime green alligator was just one event in what is being an eventful day.

The first eventful event of the day was finding that the fact that the temperature in the outer world at my location, which had remained above 50 degrees for over 24 hours, had rendered the cool pool not too cool to swim in.

So I had a real fine time in the pool this morning, unlike yestermorning, which required 3 escapes from the cool pool into the not cool hot tub.

Vehicle maintenance is another event that has made today an eventful day.

When it comes to vehicle maintenance I am not a very responsible person. Until a warning light or beep alerts me that something may need attention I forgot to check things like the oil, transmission fluid or tire pressure.

The last couple days I thought my transmission was acting unusual. I looked in my vehicle manual for directions as to how to check the transmission fluid. That eventually led me on a 15 mile drive and a two person operation.

I think maybe the 15 mile drive is required to heat up the transmission fluid enough to get an accurate reading. That accurate reading indicated the transmission fluid was low. This accurate reading took place in the Village Creek Natural Historical Area parking lot, which is about a mile from Walmart.

Before I drove the 15  miles for the scheduled fluid check, I drove to my neighborhood Fort Worth Credit Union to make a deposit. Two Fort Worth cops were guarding the Credit Union. This particular Fort Worth Credit Union branch is on Brentwood Stair Road, across the street from the Whataburger that was in the news yesterday due to a shootout between a Whataburger robber and a Fort Worth policeman, who was injured in the shootout, which was fatal for the Whataburger robber.

So, after walking with the Indian Ghosts and after avoiding being gator bait, it was off to Walmart to find some transmission fluid and a funnel.

In the process of checking fluid levels I also discovered I was down a quart of oil. Whilst still in the Walmart parking lot I funneled transmission oil where it needed to go and poured oil in to the hole where it needed to go.

After all this fluid injecting my motorized mechanical conveyance seemed to respond in a positive fashion.

Even so I am leaving my motorized mechanical conveyance in its home parking spot tomorrow while I ride the Fort Worth Adventure Buses to downtown Fort Worth and beyond and back. I expect to find some prime blogging fodder....

Lost Sunglasses Ridge & Other Saturday Texas Miscellania Like Whataburger

You are looking north at what I call Lost Sunglasses Ridge. So named because this is the location, on the Tandy Hills, where I managed to lose my sunglasses on Easter Sunday. And found them again, a month later, hiding in plain sight.

I was on the Tandy Hills late today, for an hour and a half. I don't know how many gallons of liquid I lost, but it was substantial. I'd agreed to ferry someone to a nearby location, with me doing my salubrious hiking and then picking up the aforementioned person at the nearby location.

Well, the pickup call came later than I'd anticipated. That's okay. I'm in endorphin bliss so nothing makes me cranky.

Change of subject.

There are currently over 2,500 postings on this blog. All those postings are indexed by Google. Consequently I can get comments to a blogging I wrote over 2 years ago.

This can be a bit confusing.

One of the subjects I've blogged about that has generated a lot of comments, is various bloggings about Only Child Syndrome. I was surprised to see yesterday that one of those OCS bloggings has over 60 comments.

For awhile Google had me the #1 Only Child Syndrome expert in the world. I have not checked it in awhile. But, I know I'm no longer the go to guy for people trying to figure out what the deal is with Only Children.

Today I got 2 comments to a blogging I wrote way back in January of 2009 regarding Whataburger and what a travesty of a burger joint it is. You can click the link and read the comments from today. One from the mother of a 16 year old son who is currently being a Whataburger victim. And another from a disgruntled Whataburger customer who is running a What a Boycott of Whataburger.

I have never set foot in a Whataburger. The tacky looking orange striped buildings are enough to offput me. I have no idea if Whataburger is a Texas only franchise or if it spreads its particular brand of badness throughout the South.

I fear Texas may regulate its burger industry with the same attention to detail and quality and customer/citizen well-being as Texas regulates the oil and gas industry.

Elsie Hotpepper has gone missing again. The last I heard from Elsie was on Friday when she asked if I would make a TRV website. I don't know what TRV means, for sure. T.errribly R.ude V.illains? T.he R.evolutionary V.anguard? I don't know.

And then there's the Queen of Wink, who also has sort of gone missing. But I actually know why the Queen's gone missing. This weekend is the annual Roy Orbison Festival in Wink.

I tell you, of all these things worrying me, missing people, getting stranded on HOT hills, bad Whataburgers, I forget what else, the thing that troubles me more than anything is poor ol' Betty Jo Bouvier's once more ruining her hair in a blaze of fire.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I anticipate a day of rest. With a Father's Day call to my dear ol' dad.

Kiowa Red River Casino & Whataburger

I've had me a day. A loud thunderstorm had me up well before 5 this morning. By 6am I was swimming in the rain. Then I remembered Sunday's lightning strike fire and how the occupants described the electricity zapping through the building, popping out of outlets and light switches.

Even though the pool is at a low spot and the lightning did not seem too close, I cut the swimming short.

For lunch today I took a virtual trip up to Wichita Falls, then headed north across the Red River to the town of Devol where the Kiowa Nation runs the Kiowa Red River Casino.

I'm not a huge fan of gambling. I can be entertained for a short duration by slot machines and video poker. But not of the sort allowed in the Oklahoma casinos.

One thing I do like in a casino is a good buffet. Morningstar is a popular Kiowa name, so the Kiowa Casino's buffet is the Morningstar Buffet. How was the buffet? After the Zorro's Buffet debacle, I no longer share my opinion about such matters.

Absolutely total change of subject. This morning I got a comment to a blogging about Whataburger. The comment was from "Anonymous," who wanted a previous commenter, Jeremy B., to post his email address, because "Anonymous" would like to ask Jeremy B. about his Whataburger experiences.

When I read what "Anonymous" was asking I wondered why he/she did not post his/her email address so Jeremy B. could reach him/her. Why would "Anonymous" think Jeremy B. is going to be reading his comment asking for Jeremy B.'s email address? That's just goofy.

Natural Hiking At The Tandy Hills Natural Area & Whataburger

Apparently today is Au Naturel Day in Texas. So, after this morning's refreshing skinnydipping and way too much time clacking on a keyboard, and even though the Heat Index was 92, I decided that it was likely that the Tandy Hills had dried out from our recent deluge, so I went to the Tandy Hills Natural Area for some natural hiking.

It was HOT. The humidity has dropped, so it was not quite as HOT as yesterday. At noon, on a Sunday, when it's this hot, you have the Tandy Hills to yourself. Except for noisy birds.

I saw a few diehard wildflowers today, but most of the color has left the prairie.

A long time ago I blogged about Whataburger after Alma, the Songbird of the Texas Gulf Coast, sent me a disturbing email about her Whataburger experience. The last few days I've been getting rather detailed comments from Whataburger employees, pretty much guaranteeing that I am never going to ever experience what a burger Whatburger makes.

Speaking of lunch, mine is done. Time to eat it. Talk to you later.

Wild Boars, Copperheads, River Legacy Biking, Zorro's Buffet & Whataburger

I think I mentioned I was in Arlington this morning, having something that needed to be tended to at 11:30, so, before that, I went mountain biking at River Legacy Park again.

The bike riding was uneventful except for running into a guy named Robert who was working on the trails. Robert told me disturbing new River Legacy news, that being that there are Wild Boars in the park. I did not know this. Robert also mentioned numerous Copperhead sightings. I have had Copperheads mentioned to me before at River Legacy, as in someone shouting something like "watch out, there's a pair of Copperheads on the trail ahead." But I've never seen one. Not at River Legacy. I did get chased by a Copperhead once at Village Creek Natural Historical Area.

Eventually I ended up at Fry's and got a new keyboard and a music playing device. It was time for a feeding. My favorite restaurant, that being Sweet Tomatoes, was virtually walking distance away, but I was out-voted on going to Sweet Tomatoes.

Then I suggested the new Wolfgang Puck restaurant that recently opened in Reunion Tower in Dallas. It is called Five Sixty, due to that being how high off the ground Reunion Tower's rotating restaurant is. The Seattle Space Needle, built in 1962, is a bit higher and also has a restaurant that rotates once an hour. I've never been to the Space Needle's rotating restaurant. Rotating above Dallas sounded fun.

But again I was out-voted. I hate living in a democracy.

So, where did I end up going? Zorro's Buffet in Fort Worth. Friday is Seafood Day. When I left Zorro's I saw a stack of FW Weekly's. I'd not seen FW Weekly's at Zorro's before. When I got back here I saw that this week's FW Weekly restaurant review was all about Zorro's Buffet.

Apparently a high energy Israeli immigrant named Ricki Epstein, who arrived in America sometime in the last decade of the previous century, built a very successful catering business in the Fort Worth zone. But, she wanted to do a high quality buffet. And so Zorro's Buffet was born.

Today Zorro's was packed with a very eclectic blend of buffet aficionados, many of whom I thought maybe they should steer clear of anything or place where they can eat all they want. But, like I said before, I may not like it, but we live in a democracy where people can eat and say anything they want.

Like what I'm going to say right now. In Arlington I saw an un-tacky looking Whataburger. I opined, to my captive throng of ardent, buffet slut, listeners, that I did not understand how there can be a non-tacky looking Whataburger, like this one in Arlington, while the majority of Whataburgers are very dated looking eyesores, one of which my eyes were greeted with upon leaving Zorro's, sitting right across the street from Fort Worth's best buffet.

I think it's Whataburger's A-Frame with the orange and white striped metal roof that bugs me. I have never been in a Whataburger, but I've had more than one person tell me that Whataburger makes good burgers.

Anyway, that's been my exciting day. It started off in the 70s with a half hour swim. Those balmy temperatures with the windows open all night have not lasted. It has gotten colder all day long. We are heading towards possibly freezing again. I doubt I will last a half hour in the pool tomorrow morning.

Whataburger What A Mess

Whataburger is a regional chain. There are a lot of them in Texas. You may have heard Hank Hill or Bobby mention Whataburger on King of the Hill. I have never been in or had a Whataburger. The restaurants look real tacky with their striped roofs and odd building shapes and garish signs. I assumed Whataburgers were likely not a good thing. Wikipedia seems neutral on the issue.

And then a couple days ago I got one of my favorite emailer's periodic email newsletters, in which she described her "working" experience at Whataburger. After reading that I know I'll never visit a Whataburger.

I share my friend's experience with you as a cautionary tale....

"I was able to escape my captors at Whataburger. I've been working/slaving at Whataburger for a coupla months now. I hate it. They work you like a dog. Without any training, teaching or explanation, Frank, the GM, started me on the grill.

For breakfast that means I was responsible for the tortillas, the bob eggs, scrambled eggs, the sausage/egg taquito mix, sausage patties, any meat patties, and bacon. You have to anticipate the volume of food to cook. We'd get busloads of people. If you run out of any of the above items, it means the cook has to hold up production. They are rude when that happens.

You must scrape the grill when the grease and meat get cooked/caked on. They were working me 10 hours a day. I couldn't feel my toes when I'd get home and my back ached for every year of my age. It's a young person's job, for sure. My face looked like I suffered from rosacea. All red and pink from the heat of the grill. Occasionally, my grip would slip and my knuckles or fingers would scrap the 350 degree grill.

If the cook ran out of anythng like large or small cheese, lettuce, buns, tomatos, onions, pickles, I'd have to run into the cooler and fill up their pan. If I'd take a step back to take a drink of water, the manager was on my like white on rice and would command me to sweep and mop the kitchen floor, take the trash out, clean the grill, make more gravy or whatever he felt like.

Again, they worked me for 10 hours a day. Did I mention I hated it? And while they were no rocket scientists and while they provided me with no training - they just threw me on the grill and I was just supposed to know the lingo and how to do the job.

Next time you go to Whataburger, peek at the trash can you just emptied your tray into. I had to empty those trash cans and lift those bags full of food and drinks.

That was just the grill gig...They put me on the board to make sandwiches and again, with minimal explanation, wanted me to be fast at making all the sandwiches. I apparently wasn't fast enuf.

The next thing they put me on was produce in the back. I had to carry the boxes full of lettuce or tomatos and chop about 30 or more heads of lettuce into hamburger size pieces. I routinely had to core and slice enuf tomatos to fill 8 6x12 and about 6 inch deep pans. I got a hole in my right index finger that is just know healing from the core-er thingee. That was just from it rubbing my finger. It dug a hole in it.

The tomato slicer was scary. One bad move and I'd cut my guitar playing fingers. It never happened, but I wasn't swift at that either.

Part of that job was washing all the dishes. At 11am, when breakfast was over, they'd start bringing all the pans from breakfast that held greasy bacon, all the scambled eggs which by now were cooked on the pans pretty good. They'd bring for me to wash the metal spatulas they used to cook the eggs, the cooked on gravy dishes, the bob eggs rings, the pancake ring (oh yea...I had to make tons of pancakes), and everything had a layer of grease.

Next they put me on the front register. Easier in a way, but their register was a trick to learn. It was not logical and as they showed you stuff (only after you made a mistake), they would punch the keys so fast (almost like they were pathetically showing off) that I couldn't tell what the hell they were doing.

I had to refill all the drink cups -soda and coffee. I had to maintain coffee in the lobby caraffs, clean the soda station, refill all the cream, sugar, salt, pepper, forks, knives, spoons, napkins, sweet and low, stir sticks, and make sure there was always sweetened and unsweeten tea.

The customers were asses if I made a mistake and held them up. I had to sweep and mop the lobby and let me tell you - I hate people. They would just throw food and paper on the floor like it was a middle ages castle.

I had to make fries, onion rings, chicken strips, fish patties for their fish sandwich, and enuf fried pies. After a day of making fries, my eyes felt like there were boulders under my one remaining contact lens. They hurt.

As the food was made, I had to make sure the order was complete on a tray and go into the lobby and call out their order number. Did I mention they would work me 10 or more hours a day for $7.50 an hour. They really got their money's worth. And after all this, if I went anywhere in my Whataburger uniform, people would laugh at me and treat me like I was a moron.

My feet always hurt and I couldn't feel my toes.

I had no life left when I got home. I had no energy to do a gig and canceled a few of them out of pure exhaustion. And my hands were ugly. My nails always had meat or something under them and they looked awful. This is not a good job. You could not wear earrings. Your hair had to be completely under your cap or you had to wear a hair-net. The uniform was dark blut pants and their t-shirt. I was forced to buy some ugly non-skid shoes before the would let me start work and they hassled me everyday because I didn't have a belt until Kenneth brought me one from home that he gave to me. I got hassled if I forgot my stupid name tag.

We had had a few scary busy rushes the last week and so they brought in some outside workers to help us. Two of those helpers were the Area Managers kids - Andy and Briana. Nice enuf kids, I guess.

So, the last straw for me was last Sunday when I was working the grill. I had a great sense of accomplishment because I hadn't run out of anything during the breakfast rush and was keeping up with the demand of the job. When breakfast ended - the new GM, - Mark was trying to score points with the Area Manager and he asked Briana "what do you want to work today" Right in front of me the little princess sez - "the grill". So, Mark simply told me to go into the back and do produce and wash dishes. Needless to say, this pissed me off pretty good. Because it had been busy, there were lots of dishes to wash and I had to chop and slice even more produce than usual. I release my frustrations by banging the dishes pretty good. I asked him what I had done wrong and he tried to bullshit me and say I was the only one he could count on to do a good job. Yea... right. Then he said he didn't know if the others knew how to do that job. Yea...right...It's rocket science."

Well, that about ends the Whataburger part of the newsletter. The happy news that follows is that Whataburger was told to take their job and shove it. Because a new, much better, opportunity opened up for the former Whataburger slave.

Below is a Whataburger TV ad, for those of you have never been to the South or Southwest....