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....

What Is That We're Smokin' In Fort Worth?

(Click here to see video and photos of the Chesapeake Energy "fracking" of the Tandy Hills Meadowbrook Neighborhood Scott Avenue, so called Thomas Well Site)

New Information from Don Young that makes one wonder what is being added to the air we breathe here in Fort Worth and surrounding environs, courtesy of the Barnett Shale gas drillers and their "frack" process.

In case anyone needs a reminder, this is what a "frack job" looks like. These pics were taken in east Fort Worth in early January, 2009, near Riverside Drive and I-30. The smoke was so dense that, at times, it obscured driving on the interstate highway.

Tomorrow, January 12, Chesapeake Energy will frack the so-called Thomas well about 1/2 mile east of this location which is in the West Meadowbrook neighborhood.

Did the City of Fort Worth warn us that fracking might be dangerous to human and animal health? No.

Did the neighborhood association send out an alert? No.

Did the state highway department issue a warning or close the highway? No.

Did the Star-Telegram send out a notice or a reporter? No.

Did Chesapeake Energy warn us that fracking involves the use of over 50 toxic chemicals that can cause cancer, endocrine disruption, neurotoxicity, skin irritations, cardiac toxicity, kidney failure, reproductive disruption, respiratory distress and developmental toxicity? No. No. Hell No!

Just what the heck is in all that smoke and dust that will float over Fort Worth Monday morning??? What exactly will our children and pets and us be breathing when the clouds roll by? Where will the dust settle?

More importantly, where are the elected officials that have allowed this to happen in our community? Do they have fracking in their 'hoods?

For a list of the toxic chemicals used in gas well fracking and other info about the dangers of fracking, look here:

Hydraulic Fracturing: Drinking Water Protected? Think Again

Is "Fracking" Safe? Or a Toxic Spew?

What is in that "Fracking" fluid?

EPA to Citizens: Frack You

Frac Water Chemical Components

Fort Worth Susan Has Solved The Fort Worth Mystery

This blog gets some interesting comments. I particularly enjoyed two I got this morning from "susan-n-ftwrth."

Susan's first comment was in response to a blogging I wrote that I called "Fort Worth: A Paradox". I spew out so many of these things I didn't remember what the Fort Worth Paradox was til I looked. Sad thing is, apparently my memory is getting really bad, because I wrote Fort Worth: A Paradox only 10 days ago.

Well, I have to admit that Susan has come up with a unique theory, that had not occurred to me, that explains why much is so goofy here. Too much booze.

So, here is Susan's first comment. It will be followed by her second.

Fort Worth is only one of the best in the nation thru the eyes of the drunkards that live here. I believe that if Tarrant County, as a whole, would stop promoting alcohol everywhere you go here (even children's ballgames and at Six Flags where the drunks have to drive their kids home) that maybe people's minds would have time to clear and see the place as it really is.

Ugly-Corrupt-Behind the Times-Bigoted-Small Minded-Back Stabbing.

But as long as nothing is done about the huge amount of alcohol that is consumed here on a daily basis, the people will not have the inclination nor the money to travel to other parts of this great nation.

I believe this is exactly what "the powers that be" want from the citizens of Tarrant County and beyond. "Keep them drunk or hungover and they will never question our behavior."

I am sure that many of you will want to tell me to go kill myself or go #$@# myself, but save your bad little breath. I've heard it before and don't care.

Susan's 2nd comment was in regards to a blogging I wrote the 2nd day of the new year, called "Texas Insomnia & Other Woes". The comment confused me, because I didn't remember ever verbalizing, on this blog, my amazement regarding the fuss made over the peaches from Parker County. I long ago, somewhat, verbalized my opinion regarding the mediocre peaches, on my Eyes on Texas website, in a webpage about the Parker County Peach Festival.

Anyway, here is what Susan said....

I love the fruit that comes from Washington & Oregon. It takes 3 or 4 Parker County peaches to even come close to the size of a peach from the northwest. And the flavor cannot be matched!

So totally true. I remember my shock the first time I tasted a Parker County Peach after enduring all the hype about them being special. Bland and pretty much flavorless. Washington peaches ooze peach flavor. Blindfolded I don't think I could tell a Parker County Peach was a peach. I miss fresh Washington fruit. I still can be appalled and amazed when I see blackberries for sale here. 3 or 4 bucks for a teeny carton of blackberries. In the northwest blackberries grow wild everywhere. So, they are free.

Roller Blading At Bob Jones Park

Bob Jones Park was fresh on my mind due to having driven Mom & Dad there on Wednesday. The paved trails at Bob Jones Park make for some good rollerblading. So, that's where I went.

I also wanted to go to Sprouts Farmers Market, so I had 2 reasons to be in the south Lake Grapevine zone.

The picture of me blading, with a castle in the background, does not do justice to the castle. I'm not as tall as the castle. It's really big, even though it looks like a dollhouse in the picture.

In the second picture, as I roller blade into the distance, I shrink and the castle gets way bigger.

I was slightly overdressed for blading. It was around 60 with no wind. It is 65 now at 4 in the afternoon.

No one has heard a report from my Mom & Dad today. I just talked to my sister in Phoenix and she's not heard from them since yesterday. I hope they didn't wander too close to the border and end up lost in Mexico.

The Oatmeal Texas Oatmeal Festival

When my Mom & Dad were here I was to learn that my Mom and I share an oatmeal aversion. I don't mind eating a little of it, it's the smell of it cooking I don't like. My Mom likes nothing about the stuff.

This morning I learned there is a town in Texas called Oatmeal. Oatmeal has a population of about 20. Oatmeal is located a few miles northwest of Austin, near the town of Bertram.

Back in 1978 the citizens of Oatmeal were irked that the official map of the State of Texas had left Oatmeal off the map due to there being no main highways intersecting in Oatmeal.

Something had to be done. So, in cahoots with nearby Bertram, the Oatmeal Festival was born as part of a plot to put Oatmeal back on the map.

It worked. The concept was to sort of spoof other Texas festivals, like all the chili cookoffs. So, instead of a 'queen' the Oatmeal Festival has Ms. Bag. Ms. Bag must be over 55. Then there is something called Groaty Oat, which I've no idea what that is. And then we have Miss Cookie and Miss Muffin, who are 4 to 8 years old.

There are Oatmeal Bakeoffs and at some point in the Oatmeal Festival planes drop oatmeal flakes from the sky. That's got to be strange. Some years there are Oatmeal sculpture contests. Again, that's got to be strange.

The Oatmeal Festival takes place Labor Day weekend, starting Friday night with a BBQ at the Oatmeal Community Center. On Saturday the Oatmeal Festival Parade takes place with events having odd starting times, like the Saturday morning 3K run starts at 8:03, the Pet Parade at 10:03, the Festival Parade also at 10:03. And the Bertram School Homecoming at 1:03.

After the parade there is a BBQ at Bertram Pavilion with brisket, chicken, pinto beans, cole slaw, potato salad, bread, onions. And iced tea. In other words, your basket Texas type picnic. There are also a lot of Texas type desserts. Which means things like banana pudding with vanilla cookies and buttermilk pie.

Next Labor Day I am going to make a real good effort to go to the Oatmeal Festival.

Wal-Mart Bingo In Texas

Like I've previously mentioned, Alma, the Songbird of the Texas Gulf Coast, sends me a lot of funny stuff.

This morning, among the funny stuff, was a Wal-Mart Bingo Card that you can print up and take with you the next time you visit your neighborhood Wal-Mart.

At my local Wal-Mart I have seen or smelled most of the things on Alma's bingo card.

There is a thing or two that I think should be on the Wal-Mart Bingo Card.

Like, shockingly huge butt. Pants hanging below underwear. Items missing from shelves. (My Super Wal-Mart has been without Parmesan Cheese for weeks now) Garish, ghoulish looking make up on an elderly lady.

Anyway, I'm sure this Wal-Mart Bingo Card is in bad taste and likely will offend someone somewhere. Likely an obese person with a rat tail hair style, who uses a Wal-Mart scooter while wearing a rebel flag t-shirt with blood on it, not big enough to cover the tramp tattoo on her lower back, missing teeth and a limb, while reeking of unbearably bad body odor.

Texas Bush Biking

When I moved to Texas, I assumed I would be unable to continue with my mountain bike habit, due to Texas being a little short in the mountain department. Well, that erroneous assumption is my favorite of all my erroneous assumptions about Texas.

I was about 2 months into my Texas exile when I was out in the East Texas zone. I drove into Tyler State Park. There was a sign pointing towards the mountain bike trails. How can this be, I wondered?

I had my bike with me, so I followed the signs to the trails. It was on those trails I was to learn that, though Texas may not be mountainous, Texas did have mountain bike trails that are quite strenuous.

After the Tyler trails had worn me out I was talking to a guy, telling him I was from Washington, recently moved to Fort Worth and not expecting to find mountain bike trails in Texas. That guy told me there were a lot of mountain bike trails right in the D/FW Metroplex.

That information totally surprised me. The biking guy told me to go to a bike shop where I could get the local trail info. I did so the next day. Soon I was biking all over the D/FW Metroplex.

The Dallas-Fort Worth zone has over 200 miles of maintained mountain bike trails on 23 different trails. Some of them are quite challenging, like the DORBA trails at Cedar Hills State Park. Or the Northshore trail on Lake Grapevine. Some are easy, but still fun, like the trails at River Legacy Park. There is one trail, that being Sansom Park in Fort Worth, that is so steep and scary looking that there is no way I'd bike it. It was hard enough to hike it.

Many of the local trails are made and maintained by DORBA (Dallas Off Road Bicycle Association).

In a little over a week there will be a new scary addition to the Dallas-Fort Worth area mountain bike trails. As in the soon to be retired Mountain Biker in Chief is moving to Dallas and is said to be looking forward to riding the trails. Bush started pedalling when his knees could not handle jogging anymore. Apparently George has gotten quite skilled at mountain biking.

I suspect I'll run into George W. some day on some trail some where. I shall resist the urge to throw a shoe at him.

White Sands & The Helldorado Days Of Tombstone Girls In Bikinis

UPDATE #2: My Mom just called. They are safely back home in Arizona. My Mom confirmed that both photos below, sent from their cell phone, were sent from White Sands. However, my Mom also said that another picture was sent, when they were at a high mountain pass, above 6,000 feet elevation, with snow falling, skies gray, snow covering the road. I didn't get that picture. Hence the confusion below.

UPDATE #1: There is a chance I made an error, below, where I say both the pictures from my Mom & Dad's cell phone were of White Sands. I talked to my sister in Phoenix today and she claims she was told the first photo is of snow Mom & Dad saw in New Mexico. My sister told me you can tell the photos were taken in different locations due to the sky being gray in the snow picture. Both skies look blue to me. I stand by my original claim that both pictures were taken at White Sands. Though it did strike me as odd that they would send two of the same thing.

This afternoon, when I got home from hiking and barely in to the making lunch process, I heard my phone make an odd noise. It was caused by my Mom & Dad sending me a phone photo.

Eventually I figured out how to look at the photos. I'm thinking most people looking at these phone photos would assume they are looking at snow. I'm pretty sure that would be a wrong assumption.

It appears to me they are at White Sands National Monument. I don't believe any of my siblings, who got the same photo, have been to White Sands. So, they'll likely think it is snow they are looking at. Unless my Dad tells them different, with that fancy text messaging thing he does.

Somewhere in here I have a picture of me running down one of the White Sands dunes. The sand is so brightly white it is more blinding than snow on a clear blue day. Okay, I could not find the picture of me running down the White Sands dune, but I did find one of my bright white van sitting on the bright white sand. Another of my pictures of White Sands shows the same type railing fence that is in the one from my Mom and Dad, above on the right.

I saw White Sands the day after spending the night at Alamogordo. I enjoyed Alamogordo. That town has played a big role in the American space program and the atom bomb. Holloman Air Force Base and White Sands Missile Range are nearby. The Space Shuttle has landed at White Sands. The New Mexico Museum of Space History with its International Space Hall of Fame is in Alamogordo.

The day I was there they were inducting either an astronaut or a cosmonaut into the Hall of Fame. Maybe it was one of each. The museum has a very good Omnivision Theater, or whatever it is called, you know, the things with the huge screen. They were showing a movie of life aboard the International Space Station. It was like you were in it.

Yesterday I mentioned that Mom & Dad were going to Tombstone. I mentioned accidentally being in Tombstone during Helldorado Days. I also mentioned how disconcerting Helldorado Days was, with guns being fired, very loudly, and floats in the parade having girls in bikinis, which seemed so not like the Old Wild West of my imagination. They should have been attired like wild saloon girls, instead.

When I was looking for a picture of me running down a White Sands dune I found one of the aforementioned Tombstone Helldorado Days float with bikini girls. I guess it was very patriotic.

Freezing And Hiking In Texas

A week ago, today, I went hiking at the Tandy Hills. Then I was sidelined by rain and incoming Parental Units.

And now, a week after that last hike, I decided nothing was going to stop me today. Well, unless there was something like an ice storm. Today's misery was temps barely above freezing with the Wind Chill Factor making it feel like it was well below freezing.

So, I put on several layers and set off for Village Creek Natural Historical Area. I usually, erroneously, call this park Indian Village. Well, it used to be an Indian Village, which would be a more appropriate, historically accurate name. Or so it seems to me.

That would be me, hiking away from a little pond at Indian Village, in the picture above. It was in this pond, one day, years ago, that I saw my first Water Moccasins. Several of them. I have since greatly abated my aversion to snakes, but, at that point in time, it was a bone-chilling thing for me to see.

Just as I started to walk I got a call from Tootsie Tonasket. Her soap opera travails have grown worse. Yesterday she gave her husband an ultimatum, stop seeing his girl friend or never come home again. That's the short version. Tootsie's drunk son was ranting in the background. A couple days ago, in a drunken rage, the son told Tootsie he'd whack her head off with an ax. That same day the wandering husband wandered off, barefoot, with snow on the ground and no coat, heading to town.

I can only listen to very little of that insanity, then I have to excuse myself.

That ham I cooked this morning made a very tasty lunch, along with stir fried spinach I got at the Dallas Farmers Market. My Mom included a container of her patented Mustard Plaster, along with the ham. My relatives do not eat ham without Mustard Plaster.

Importing Ham From Arizona To Texas

My Mom & Dad brought me so much stuff from Arizona that I could open a small grocery store. I've got boxes of grapefruits, lemons, oranges. And jam. And a ham that is bigger than the last turkey I cooked.

I was barely able to fit the giant ham into my turkey cooking pan this morning. The ham is now in the oven, slowly getting warmed up, so it'll be fit for consumption in a few hours.

Between now and then, I'm planning on going on a hike somewhere. I've not done that since last Saturday. I took Sunday off, Monday it rained and Mom & Dad arrived, which put me in driving mode for aerobic exercise.

As soon as Mom & Dad left it got cold again. We got down to freezing last night. It is only 35 right now, with less than an hour to go before noon. And it is windy. With gusts to around 30, which makes the Wind Chill Factor making it feel like 30 out there.

When people don't have anything else to talk about they talk about the weather. So, I'll shut up. For now.