Friday, November 25, 2005

A Bitter-Sweet Thanksgiving

The bad part was my fault, really. We're not really given to spending most of the day cooking and baking, so some years we find a nice restaurant to have Thanksgiving dinner. That's what we tried to do this time.

My mother, and recent years my sister, are unbeatable as far as great Thanksgiving dinners go. I'll stack 'em up against anybody. They all went to my brother's new digs in the Zone this year, and I wasn't able to get away.

Debbie got together with my old hot rodding pal from El Cajon, and he and his wife decided to drive up and join us for dinner at a restaurant. As far as the restaurant went, we made an unfortunate choice.

We had a wonderful visit; talked about many things. We really don't do it often enough, and that's really my fault. I'm the busy one who often works six days a week and has more other interests than I have time for. Nonetheless, it was a good afternoon and a great visit.

Now, for the bad news. The restaurant we chose (most restaurants being closed for the holiday) was a touristy sort of European village place that was having a special Thanksgiving buffet. Since it was a special deal, they set it up in a dance hall which, in the daylight, devoid of the dance hall decorations and lighting, had all the ambiance of a small airplane hangar.

The food was.....ok. Unfortunately, our reservation time was fairly near the end of their day, so some of the items on the buffet were in short supply. The serving people were anticipating closing time, so they had their minds elsewhere.

In short, the dinner was a less than satisfactory experience. I'll know better next time. I don't think Old World Village will see me tippy-toeing over their threshold for a long, long time.

The visit from our friends saved the day. As time goes by, I appreciate the time spent with good friends more and more.


Warm regards,

Col. Hogan
Stalag California

1 comment:

The Wine Commonsewer said...

Camp Roberts, from Marine Corps rifle range to UCSD, my how time flies. Actually, even I'm too young to have ever seen Camp Roberts.