California Music [CCR]

While visiting California I had the opportunity to drop off at the Spectrum Centre in Irvine. Folks, this place is one more highfalutin outdoor shopping center, entertainment complex, and just about anything a person might want or not want, depending on your state of mind. Personally it’s role for me lay solely in finding a place for dinner since it was on the way back to the hotel from my remote workplace. I literally wore blisters on my feet trying to find my way around this thing.

During the trip I stopped by one shop I thought would be worth checking. So I dropped in. Just my luck. These folks were playing Lynard Skynard’s Sweet Home Alabama. Here I am reminiscing about home. I browsed through the music and found some “old” CDs on sale. I guess they were right about old. I mean, can you imagine my kids do not know a world without a CD? Well, as far as that goes, they wouldn’t know how to exist with just a toaster oven instead of microwave. And I was lucky to have that toaster oven in my college days.

But to the point, do these folks out here in California really know the significance of what they are listening to? My inquisition to the young bubblegum popping gal at the register just returned a blank stare when I asked what she knew about the lyrics. Now I already have assumed the unofficial ambassadorship to the state of Ohio to explain the significance of my Alabama home, but now I find myself in the same situation in California too. Time was passing and so was my opportunity to obtain the dinner that awaited me just around the corner, but sharing the merits of home must take precedence. So as I proceeded through the story of Muscle Shoals history you have heard me discuss before. I must assume that the “kewl” and the puzzled look I got meant some of the discussion did register. Well, at least I had performed my ambassador duties whether it registered or not. Just what do these history teachers tell these kids out here?

After leaving the music store wondering if I had accomplished something, I ventured into the restaurant. I glanced down the menu starting with the fish. I am on the coast so the fish should be a safe bet. Once I glanced at the prices I quickly understand how they got this mall in such fancy shape. In fact now I understood how they paid for the giant Ferris wheel right in the middle of the mall. Folks, the cheapest things on that menu for a single entrée was more expensive than a three course meal with dessert back home. The waitress dropped by and asked me what I’ll be drinking. Water was the only logical choice as I was going to need to revive myself. She sees me staring blankly and asked if I was ready to order. I figured there was no sense in asking if maybe they had sweet potatoes or maybe even black-eyed peas. So I told her I was confused and wondered whether the salmon or steak would be better. This question was an obvious cop-out on my part to shift responsibility of my guilt. She made her recommendation and I placed my order.

When my meal arrived I found myself once again craving a home meal. But, seeing as how my company was taking care of me, I decided to mannerly partake of the meal. But, dessert was definitely off the menu. After completing my meal I politely paid the ticket. I use the word ticket lightly because most Alabama traffic tickets would be more reasonable. On the way out I found the answer to my questions. A sign by the door stated this place had the largest keg beer cooler in California. In fact it said a single person would take 79 years to drink all the beer they had in that cooler. The sign also stated they had the largest bar with the most taps, which I didn’t even see. Problem is I don’t even drink beer so that means somebody else was taking in my portion. But, now I understood the prices in there even better. Somebody had to pay for that oversized refrigerator.