Before Run!
Lately I’ve been pondering my deepest personal values. Here’s what I’ve got:
1) I value not working for someone else.
2) I value not having to wear shoes.
3) I value the absence of meetings, red tape, and bureaucracy.
Thankfully, Franktuary has some additional ideals. That’s why I recently participated in a 5K run, with Franktuary as my sponsor. Called “Rock and Run for Africa,” the purpose of this jaunt was to help a New Jersey church fund its effort to provide clean and safe drinking water to people in Africa who currently lack that resource. In keeping with my distaste for shoes I chose to participate in a pair of Vibram FiveFingers (pictured above). You can read more about the event here.
More than 1,000 runners participated, and the experience for this “runner” was simultaneously miserable and wonderful. It was awesome to be a small part of a big event supporting such a worthy cause. For that reason, Franktuary is thrilled to have been involved.
On the other hand, distance running is clearly a terrible idea. The term “fun run” is one of the great misnomers of our time. The so called “runner’s high” is pure fiction. Bicycles and inline skates exist for a reason. If you want to use your feet unaided, enjoy a hike!
Let’s face it folks, the only reasons a person should ever consider running a long distance are as follows:
1) For a worthy cause.
2) For his life, literally.
3) To train for a sport that might actually be a good time.
4) To remind himself that, yes indeed, running is a bad idea.
Clocking in at a shade under 10 minutes per mile, one thing is certain. This “runner” looks a lot faster than he is!
After Run!
Franktuary is on You Tube. Did you know?
Also, people read the Post-Gazette. Thanks to that great review from Munch, we’re coming off our best week ever. We wouldn’t be here without you, Pittsburgh, and we know it. Here’s to many more weeks like the one just passed!
In other news, the writer of this blog, currently away from Franktuary everyday, works as a cashier in a grocery store in New Jersey. His first customer yesterday declared, as she was checking out, her voyage to the supermarket to be an “emergency trip.” Will someone please explain how an emergency grocery run partially consists of purchasing 48 cans of cherry Pepsi??????????????????????????????????? I’ll tell you, the world we live in…
When you grow up in and around northern New Jersey, as I did, there are a handful of cultural elements forever branded into your persona. For example, if you’re from the area you probably perceive a frankfurter to be more delicious than disgusting. After all, the grilled franks of Manhattan and deep-fried dogs of New Jersey really are better. But you’ve been to Franktuary. You know this fact well.
Something you most likely don’t know of is a now defunct theme park branded as Action Park. Like the simple enjoyment of a quality tubesteak, memories of Action Park is a bond we young adults from the New York area share. If you have no idea what I’m talking about do yourself a favor and check out this informative Wikipedia entry.
Just today I was sitting around a campfire in northwest Jersey and the subject of Action Park came up. I had never before met about two-thirds of the group of 12 or so with whom I was spending the day. All of these people grew up in either Queens, Brooklyn, the Garden State, or Connecticut. Everyone had an Action Park story.
In a rare demonstration of vigilance my good buddy was rescued by an Action Park lifeguard at the age of four. Of course, had he not been allowed to use the ride for which he was clearly under the height minimum in the first place a rescue would never have needed to commence. More spectacularly, today I learned of a girl whose braces somehow got caught on a ride causing her to lose all of her teeth.
I myself only had the chance to visit Action Park once in my life. To this day I can’t decide whether that was fortunate or unfortunate. And you, dear Pittsburgher, thought Kennywood was one of a kind. Ahh, memories!
But don’t worry, Franktuary is still located in the heart of downtown on Oliver Avenue. We’ve got some exciting plans on the horizon, and part of that bigger picture necessitates creating space for someone who can do my old job better than me. What I mean by that is Franktuary now has on its staff not one but two individuals with culinary degrees! With this change, and for a handful of personal reasons, I find myself looking for employment back home in the New York area.
So, as you might imagine, more details will spring forth from this very space… over time. These titillating tidbits, about changes coming to Franktuary as well as the eventual success of my job search, may alter the very fabric of your life. If that doesn’t occur, I’ll settle for a positive impact on your stomach. After all, I expect you’ll find my yet-to-be-determined new occupation both succulent and delicious. Not to mention the food at Franktuary. You’ll find it most succulent and delicious also.
Well, as you wait for more mouthwatering morsels in the form of frankcentric blogging, come on downtown to try one of our already-improved pierogies. I know I’ll be back to visit regularly. If you’re reading this blog in Pittsburgh you have no excuse to visit Franktuary less frequently than someone more than 350 miles away! Okay, you got me, you’ve got to pay for parking in the Golden Triangle, but other than that…
You know what would be great? What would be great is if someone made a phone that also was a taser. That way every time a telemarketer called you could give them a little zap. If the same telemarketer were to call unsolicited on multiple occasions the phone operator could increase the voltage!
Keep out of reach of children, that’s for sure.
Soon I may very well find myself in Wyoming. It is the 49th most densely populated state in the country, and I am from New Jersey. I imagine this will be the closest I ever come to knowing what a person who grows up in the country feels when he visits a truly big city, like New York, for the first time. I also imagine there are telemarketers, even in Wyoming. Sometimes I regret that the world has become so small.
It came in the mail just today. Now, from one phone, I can place all my Coke orders for all my locations. How useful, considering I have but one phone and one location. I wonder if they’ve made the same offer to McDonald’s. THAT would be something else.
Interestingly enough, this letter arrived only days before Franktuary’s scheduled soda fountain removal. If corporate Coca-Cola only knew.
The bottom line is that Coke has made its minimum orders large enough that it’s no longer practical for a restaurant of Franktuary’s size to sell fountain beverages. Rather than extending itself to accomodate “the (fountain) man,” Franktuary is simply hoping that customers have been visiting it for reasons not related to culturally omnipresent soft drinks in the first place.
If you have been coming just for the pop*, I have to say, that’s pretty weird. Nonetheless, I’ve been known to have a quirk or four, so if that is the case I can relate. That’s why we’ll continue to have a dazzling array of carbonated beverages well stocked in our cooler at all times.
While on the subject of digestible liquid I should note that in 2008 we will be expanding and improving our soup selection. After all, something has to go where the fountain once stood.
*I’m from New Jersey, where we say soda. Writing the “word” pop actually made me cringe.
Okay, folks, I’m back. Just thought you’d like to know. New Jersey says “hi.”
Today someone looked into the window of my store (while I wasn’t there) and dubbed it an “army of estrogen.” I know this because I happened to be walking on the street as he made his comment. His observation will especially hold true over the next few days because, as previously mentioned, I will be massaging my heritage in New Jersey.
Depending on your personality, this could be either a wonderful or terrifying thing. Regardless, I think you should experience the “army” first-hand. The show runs this Thursday, Friday, and Monday from 8:30 am to 5:00 pm. Four women behind one counter, with only Drew, the floor mopper, to stand in their way. I’m sorry I’m going to miss it.
As a little boy who grew up in New Jersey, I recall it being a rather big deal when my aunt visited around the 4th of July. That’s because she lived in Pennsylvania and she would bring fireworks, illegal to purchase in the Garden State, for us to set off in our driveway.
Today I live in the Keystone Commonwealth, in a town most people like to call Pittsburgh. My friends who grew up in the region insist that they routinely traveled to Ohio during their childhood in order to purchase play explosives, which are illegal in Pennsylvania.
Oddly enough, I have a roommate who has a brother with a young family in the Buckeye State. They drive to Indiana to purchase their Roman candles.
Theory posed: One cannot legally purchase pyrotechnics in the state which one also possesses a valid driver’s license.
Hello, hello. Did you know that I own a large amount of slippers? Probably not. People like to give me slippers for Christmas, which isn’t a bad thing at all. Here are all the slippers I own along with the year I acquired them.
1) Memory foam slippers – Christmas 2006
2) Soft-bottom moccasins – Christmas 2004
3) Slippers with microwavable inserts – Christmas 2004
4) Moccasins with rubber soles – Christmas 2001
5) Fuzzy black cat slippers from ShoeTown (now defunct) in Springfield, NJ – 1989 (They were a bit large at the time.)
6) Glass slippers – 1996
7) Ruby slippers – Chrismas 1993
Okay, so I made those last two up. Nonetheless, I sure do wish the Allegheny County Health Department would allow me to wear my extensive slipper collection to work!
