Tag: Cod

Nuts!

We seem to have hit some sort of “Twilight Zone.” Over the weekend, there was a report from a school in Florida where the Principal retired because of a parent’s complaint that children were exposed to photographs of the statue of David as part of an art class. It seems that the “parent” was aghast that their children would be exposed to a statue of a naked man with his hangy-down parts showing. It’s just nuts!

The wags have been having a bit of fun about this outrage, dressing the statue in dresses (uh-oh… Drag!) or covering the offending parts in (among other things) a map of Florida and an AK-40. There was even a drawing of God handing Adam a pair of underwear in the painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel (Tighty-Whities. Boxers are out because you might be able to see Adam’s hangy-down parts through a gap which “lets your business breathe”)!

Apparently, the state of Florida allows even a single parent to have something removed from the classroom if they object to it. Lessons about the struggle for Civil Rights? Gone. Books about the hardships of Slavery – “Who says it was that bad?” The list is endless as it keeps growing by the day. And it’s likely to get worse before it gets better, especially since anyone with any objection will be taken seriously.

Had this nonsense been in place when I was in elementary school, my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Gillahan, would have been fired on several different occasions. Like, when she talked about milking a cow and pulling on the cow’s teats (pronouncing it “Tits.”) When the inevitable laughs came from the boys in the room, she went into her “Don’t fool around on me, I’m serious” mode, staring us down and smacking a ruler across her desk as a warning as to what may happen if we continued. Or, there was the time when she excused the girls while the boys in the room were given a clinical description of what was involved in circumcision.

You could have heard a pin drop.

To her credit, Mrs. Gillahan was the product of a different age. She was likely older then than, say, Willie Nelson is today. She may still be around. I wouldn’t put it past her. But she couldn’t teach school in Florida.

Back to Florida – I read an essay recently about a trend where opinion becomes the truth. The gist of the article was that there are certain groups of people who listen to opinions that are taught as truth. Anything not aligning with what is being taught as truth is automatically condemned as part of some sort of “Culture War” being waged against what is (inaccurately called) the Silent Majority.

It’s more like a vocal minority that the state of Florida (among others) is allowing to run things. It’s one thing for a parent to object to what his or her child is exposed to – It’s quite another for a parent to be able to keep all children from being exposed to something that one parent objects to.

Nuff Said

… and Chips

… and Chips

I had a memory bubble up in my head earlier today, one which would be a continuation of the previous blog, Fish.

The fish shown at the top of that blog (as well as the top of this continuation) were quite delicious “Beer Battered Cod” obtained in a recent trip to Costco. They were served with “Chips,” what the British call “French Fried Potatoes.” I consider myself as much a connoisseur of Fish and Chips as the people on the Aleutian Key were connoisseurs of catfish.

The memory released was one of a trip I made with my children to visit the first wife while she was working in London (England, not Kentucky, Ohio, or Ontario). On our first night there, we decided to go to a nearby fish and chips chop just down the street (or up the street) from the hotel.

The place was best described as a “Hole in the Wall.” It was small, crowded, and not at all like one would find at a restaurant here in the States. There were no pretenses. We sat down at a table with some of the locals and had a choice of what type of fish we could have with our home-made chips.

Our server was a small woman – at most, four-foot-five and maybe ninety pounds soaking wet – who took our order and our money, returning with what I recall was the best (or at least the most authentic) fish and chips I had ever had. Period. Bar none. I was also introduced to “Shandy” and recall seeing a British Television game show called “The Weakest Link.” (Has possibilities, I thought. Sure enough, the show was transplanted here to the U.S. within just a few months)

Up to that point, my favorite fish and chips came from a small chain called “Alfie’s.” One of the few Alfie’s was in Chillicothe Ohio – not too far from where my parents lived. One of the people working for that Alfie’s was a woman I knew from high school. I still keep up with her and occasionally bring up the fact that there’s still an Alfie’s in Lompoc California. The rest of the chain went by the wayside long before the start of the millennium.

Since the trip to London, the best fish and chips I’ve had in the Metromess was in a place named “The Londoner.” They seemed to understand how to properly do cod and chips – and when the local branch changed hands (It’s now named “The Celt”) the recipe transferred to the new owners.

Here in my little corner of the DFW Metromess, we have “Big Spray,” a brew pub with a decent cod and chips. The owner is an avid water skier and transplant from Indiana, hence the name. (I’d mention that he also offers Pork Tenderloin Sandwiches, but since this blog is about fish and chips, I won’t bother to mention it.)

And regarding Long John Silver’s, on occasion, usually when I’m on the road and there’s not a Whataburger nearby. For the record, there is, or at least was, a Long John Silver’s in London. Kentucky.

Be Seeing You!

(Products and/or services mentioned on this blog are not mentioned in exchange for goods, services, or hard, cold cash.)