It is sooo not cheese. Daddy hosted me to the Storm Chaser’s Baseball Game the other night. They are the farm team for the Kansas City Royals.
When I left Omaha they were called the Omaha Royals and they played in historic Rosenblatt Stadium. Now they are the Storm Chasers and play in a new ball park called Werner Park. Rosenblatt was also the home of the College World Series of Baseball. I spent a week there every summer as long as I can remember. Heck! I chose to attend ASU for college because their baseball team was good and really cute! Now, the CWS is held in the new TD Ameritrade Stadium. The Storm Chaser’s don’t play there but I think Creighton University plays there. I have no idea where the girls’ softball teams play nor the other small ball teams and am unsure why we all can’t play together but who am I to question? All I know is Omaha has two new fabulous ball parks, and I hear historic Rosenblatt will be demolished with the land given to THE neighboring ZOO. Now, the Omaha Henry Doorly Zoo rivals the best in the US, but I digress from my story….
This new ballpark I had been to…daddy had not. When we arrived we got a cocktail and strolled around the perimeter so I could show daddy all the cool kid things, the variety of food and drink available, the different places to sit if you didn’t want to sit in your seat, etc. Of course, we ultimately decided to get hot dogs for dinner. Daddy the Omaha dog, me the Chicago dog and to share, chili cheese fries.
“What the hell is this?” daddy asked, looking down on his Omaha dog.
“It’s cheese, daddy.”
“It doesn’t taste like cheese.”
“I know, and it is all over our fries, too.”
“What the hell IS this?”
“Daddy, remember when we were little and you and mommy hosted Bridge card games at the house?”
“Yes.”
“Remember those little, pretty crackers mommy would make with the cheese, the pimento and the teensy sprig of herb?”
“Yes, I loved those.”
“Well, that was spray cheese in a can. This is canned cheese that can be sprayed. In this fast-paced ballpark food environment, speed of service is important. Speed of food = happy customers = we don’t care if we give them shredded toilet paper, if it can be palatable and is quick.”
We both ordered double Jim Beam and Coke’s from our cocktail waitress.
Dad is a man of few words. Lord. Get him on the phone and it is painful. You’re not sure if he’s died while on line or not…he thinks so much before he speaks. And, when he does it is in……..short……….two word…….spurts…….of information……as you lean into the phone in frustration……..waiting to hear what he next says. Typically, when we kids call, we ask for mom, talk with her and hang up. Mom translates to dad. We don’t have to deal with it.
Imagine then, me and dad at the game together for five hours. The above conversation was completely abridged. I think we truly exchanged 50 words.
“Perfect night for a ball game.”
“That was a solid hit – you hear that crack?”
“That one’s over the fence.”
And the rest, at least from what I could tell, was me muttering to myself about plays, hits, stats, whatever. Dad is a man of few words. If I am not a gal of many words, I grunt and mutter.
We left at the 7th inning, the game was neck and neck but not too exciting. Good night to daddy, I was down stairs to brush my teeth and go to bed. Needed a new roll of toilet paper. The Mouse is back. One of my two remaining rolls was shredded.
*sigh* I do not want to kill this rodent. I just want it to stay out of my bathroom cabinet. Mom suggested I put toxic dryer sheets in there. Dad suggested an old fashioned trap. I decided cheese, in a no-kill trap AND went with all three suggestions. We were out of cheese so I scraped some of the baseball park cheese from the leftover chili cheese fries into my no kill trap.
remember the great food at Keystone ball field,, LOL
ReplyDeletesteph