Hookers or Cake

Where the self-obsessed get serious about silly
I'm too wacky to be hip.

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      ------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.

      ----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.

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          • April 7, 2010 10:38 am
            1:48 pm Tuesday - Abdullah the Butcher’s House of Ribs - Atlanta, GA  It was tucked in a outta the way place in a neighborhood that still had some character. The strip malls had yet to attack. Unfortunately the Butcher was not in. Nor did they sell T-shirts. “Sometimes we do sometimes we don’t”, explained the cashier, “it all depends on the Butcher.” What struck me was that this was a rib joint first and foremost. They had nothing to sell other than food. It was down right un-American.   I ordered the rib plate. 3 bones, candied yams, mac-n-cheese, corn bread & tea. I wandered around looking at all of the old rasslin’ pics that adorned the walls while I waited for my food.  Its a strange experience to look at pictures of half naked men wrestling, covered in blood and screaming and to then eat a plate of bbq sauce covered ribs.  The food was pretty good.  Everything was homemade. There was a steady stream of people ordering take out. A few construction workers dining in. I was the only white person, so my sense of being a silly tourist was compounded.   All in all it was a good visit and I’m glad I stopped in. My expectations were a bit skewed though. Abdullah’s isn’t some kitschy over the top side show… no it felt more like going to a quiet church and communing with everyday life. Eating food with the working man and the families, all while the Butcher earned a living too, whether it be carving up man or beast.

            1:48 pm Tuesday - Abdullah the Butcher’s House of Ribs - Atlanta, GA

             It was tucked in a outta the way place in a neighborhood that still had some character. The strip malls had yet to attack.

            Unfortunately the Butcher was not in. Nor did they sell T-shirts. “Sometimes we do sometimes we don’t”, explained the cashier, “it all depends on the Butcher.” What struck me was that this was a rib joint first and foremost. They had nothing to sell other than food. It was down right un-American. 

             I ordered the rib plate. 3 bones, candied yams, mac-n-cheese, corn bread & tea. I wandered around looking at all of the old rasslin’ pics that adorned the walls while I waited for my food.  Its a strange experience to look at pictures of half naked men wrestling, covered in blood and screaming and to then eat a plate of bbq sauce covered ribs.

             The food was pretty good.  Everything was homemade. There was a steady stream of people ordering take out. A few construction workers dining in. I was the only white person, so my sense of being a silly tourist was compounded.  

            All in all it was a good visit and I’m glad I stopped in. My expectations were a bit skewed though. Abdullah’s isn’t some kitschy over the top side show… no it felt more like going to a quiet church and communing with everyday life. Eating food with the working man and the families, all while the Butcher earned a living too, whether it be carving up man or beast.

            1. hookersorcake posted this