Some burgers rely on quantity for their value. Or the variety of ingredients. Much as I like pineapple, bacon, cheese, pickles, tomato and egg piled high for a huge calorie fix, my Brodburger was exactly right on the quantity and variety. Not too heavy, not too unwieldy.
Just right. The perfect mix of homemade ingredients, freshly prepared and simply presented. I was licking the last juices from my happy fingers when my next radio job came in, and I was on the road again.
The song There are dozens of good songs about San Francisco. Haunting, evocative, meaningful golden hits. But there’s not a one of them comes close to this one. Coupled with the beautiful dancing and the iconic backdrops of the video, this Australian’s heart near breaks. I want to be back in San Francisco. The loveliness [...]
I’ve been in some magical places in my time. A New Zealand cave with a galaxy of glow-worms lighting our upturned faces drifting in a boat down an underground river. Kissing my wife on top of the Eiffel Tower. Seeing sperm whales off Kaikoura. Standing before Sagrada Familia in awe. The laser light show over Hong Kong Harbour.
I’ve been running this blog a week. And had an amazing amount of fun. Yeah, the posts are rambling and long and repetitive. But I’m remembering so many of the things I love about America. The people, the places, the food. Happy times!
Kansas City – in Kansas – on a Saturday night. We headed off to Legends, a vast shopping mall built around a racetrack and sportsfields. An island building in the huge carpark, Cheeseburger in Paradise was our destination. There were thirty hungry BookCrossers to be fed. Just one of those convention meals that arise.
Driving a Dodge between Kansas City and Oklahoma City, a small part of the way on Route 66, we booklovers were drawn to the home of Laura Ingalls Wilder. I and a precocious lad of three in the third seat row were the only males in the vehicle, with three generations of women my passengers. I merely operated the steering and foot paddles – all of the direction came from beside and behind me. Not to mention the occasionally snarky voice of the GPS if I made a wrong turn.
I’ve felt close to finding America in a dozen places. The wonderful array of glory in the Smithsonians, including the original star-spangled banner. The longhorns in Fort Worth. Driving a big Chrysler down Route 66. Looking into the stark pit of Ground Zero. Lifting my gaze to meet that of Lady Liberty. Fort Sumter a low shape in Charleston Harbor. Little Round Top, Devils Den, Gettysburg. A dozen long and lonely interstates. Niagara Falls linking two nations. The Marina Safeway: Golden Gate on one side, Alcatraz on the other. Or Arizona, oil bubbles leaking to the surface seventy years on.