Best Burger Road

I couldn't put it off any longer.  I had to find out if I agreed with the Midwest Living Magazine article "The Midwest's Best Burgers," which ranked Lewie's in Lead, South Dakota in the top 25.  That's a pretty big deal.  Anybody can put up a sign claiming to be the best.

But this isn't just anybody.  It's Midwest Living, with a circulation of 950,000.

They called it Lewie's Saloon and Eatery.  I've always known it as Lewie's Burgers and Brews.  And, despite the fact that it's only about 25 miles from my front door, I must admit I've only been there twice before.  I will also confess that I had never eaten one of their now nationally ranked burgers.  There was something at stake in this because I have always considered the Sugar Burger from the Sugar Shack on Highway 385 between Deadwood and Hill City to be the best burger in the Midwest, or perhaps even the best burger anywhere.  So off I go to seek my own personal validation of this rather lofty pronouncement by some unknown reporter who may not have ever actually been to South Dakota, and who had obviously not been to the Sugar Shack. 

Once inside Lewie's I decide to sit at the bar rather than a table so I could get an up close and personal experience.  The view of the wall behind the bar is impressive.

There are cool antique toys, old records and advertising memorabilia scattered throughout the place.  Some in the coolers, too.  Like Schlitz and Grain Belt beer for example.  Who still drinks Schlitz and Grain Belt?  There must be enough old timers frequenting this establishment to make it worth stocking.  I'll bet you can't get those brands at Applebee's or Chili's.  But, I digress.  Let's get back to the burger.  I ordered the Lewie's Burger and a Miller High Life, which is somewhat of a throwback itself, but nothing like those other two.  Then I waited.  And waited.  It wasn't the speediest service I have ever received, but everyone was very friendly (Lewie wasn't there and I've heard he's kind of grumpy) and it turned out the wait was worth it.  What a great burger!  And hot.  It's odd that the first thing I noticed after taking a bite was just how hot it was.  Almost burn-the-roof-of-your-mouth hot.  That subtle but very important detail made a big impression on me.  Enough of an impression to make me want to conduct further investigations into this matter.  I see another trip down Highway 385 in my not too distant future.  Then, probably back to Lewie's.  These things take time you know, and one must be thorough.  I also intend to visit another place on that list.  Not because they may also have an excellent burger, but because of their name and the magazine's description:  "Dinker's, Omaha - The decor hearkens to a 1970s bowling alley."  Now that sounds like my kind of place.

Oh, one more thing.  This is not about burgers, but I really want to mention another place I discovered personally for the first time recently.  If you want the best pizza you must go here.

It's called Dough Trader Pizza Company, just off Jackson Boulevard in Spearfish, South Dakota.  I can say without any hesitation it is the best pizza I've ever had.  Not a big place, but fun and friendly with great food.  And a cool vibe, if that matters to you.  And I hope it does.  So check them out if you're not in the mood for a burger.  You won't be disappointed.

There are also a few other local non-food places that I would like to talk about some time soon, including one with a classic Bob Dylan poster on the wall and another with a "What Would Neil Young  Do?" poster.  What's on the wall can establish the mood and personality of a place, so be observant in your travels.  And I'll see you down the road.

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The 'Spring Effect'

As a keen observer of the human condition and a dedicated people watcher, I always find this time of year very interesting.  Sometimes funny.  Often a little curious.  And always entertaining.  I’m talking about those first days when the temperature crosses the tipping point and long pants and sweaters give way to shorts and tank tops...or less.  We hit that milestone here recently when the temperature topped 80 degrees for the first time this season.  People sort of went a little crazy.  Men and women.  I actually saw a guy wearing striped shorts and a “muscle shirt.”  Hey pal, Richard Simmons called - he wants his outfit back. 

But the most amusing scenes occur when women, especially those who were born before 1972, appear in public wearing something they’re just not quite comfortable in.  You can always tell the shy ones who have ventured out slightly beyond their comfort zone.  They are the ones making constant adjustments.  Tugging on their shorts, pulling their shirts up at the top or down at the waist.  Constantly glancing around to see who might be looking.   To those ladies I would just like to say that, except in the extreme cases (and you know who you are),  you look fine.  Don’t worry about it.  Getting some sunshine and enjoying a beautiful Spring day is good for you, as long as you remember that moderation is the key.  Just don't go too far the other way....

                                                         (NOT the good old days)

And, don’t worry about the tan lines.  Tan lines are good.  Wear them like a badge of honor. They are evidence you have shed the winter darkness and ventured into the new light of Spring.  Rejoice!

Remember that time when....

Here is a suggestion for a fun exercise when you are sitting around with not much else to do.  Try to remember.  You might be surprised at how much comes back to you when you make a conscious effort.  But be advised – it might not all be good.  Special places, ideas you had, things you meant to do, people that made you angry or happy, events you thought you would never forget, but did.  So here are a few things I have remembered lately. 
I recently came across an article about how the Voyager I spacecraft, launched in 1977, has now reached the very edge of our solar system and could cross over into interstellar space at any time.  No man-made object has ever gone this far before.  I recall my excitement when I first read about the mission, and the items being carried by the Voyagers (there are actually two flying around out there).  Both carry a 12-inch gold-plated copper phonograph record containing sounds and images selected to portray the diversity of life and culture on earth.  It’s kind of a time capsule, intended to communicate a story of our world to extraterrestrials.  I had forgotten all about this, but now I’m excited about the prospects again.  Let’s just hope whoever (or whatever) finds it has a killer stereo system to play it on.
Speaking of time capsules...what about those?  Do you realize how many cities have buried time capsules over the years?  It was the cool thing to do back in the decades of the 70s, 80s and 90s.  But I suspect many of them are probably forgotten now.  An internet search for time capsules in this region came up with Sioux Falls, Jefferson and at the State Capitol in Pierre, South Dakota.  I also found references to time capsules buried in Laramie and Evanston, Wyoming, and Helena, Montana.  I’m sure there are many more.  Anyone remember if there’s one in your town?
Then there are all those congressional pay raises over the years.  Congress voted themselves more than $56,000 in raises from 1990 to 2003!  There have been more since.  Every time it happens we get mad and vow to “throw the bums out” if they don’t shape up and start earning their pay.  But they know we’ll forget about it in relatively short amount of time.  And they are right.  We do.
Most baseball fans have forgotten about the ’94 strike.  Not me.  I said at the time if there was a strike I would be done with baseball for good.  I was fed up with a bunch of whiny overpaid steroid using cry babies with absolutely no respect or consideration for their fans.  They went out in August, and didn’t come back until April of the next year.  No playoffs.  No World Series.  I have not watched a baseball game since.
On a lighter note – here are a few memories I’ve conjured back up after being buried for years that may spark a similar memory for you.  Perhaps only the time and place or the name will be different.

    •    Mert’s Café.  It’s gone now, but…oh those homemade burgers and fries.  So greasy and so good!  “What say Mert?”

    •    Going over the fence for a late summer night swim in the pool.

    •    Family vacation to Yellowstone.  Every time that old Buick would overheat we would just have a picnic and wait for it to cool down.  Bear jams, giant moose, trout fishing, and endless amusement chasing chipmunks around the campground.

    •    The airline that lost our luggage.  We arrived in Hawaii right on time, but our luggage apparently went on to the Philippines.  It caught up to us a couple of days later – after we had been forced to blow nearly our entire trip budget on t-shirts and shorts.  I swore I would never fly that airline again.  Now I can’t even remember which airline it was.

It’s not always easy to remember things.  Sometimes you have to work at it a little bit.  But it’s usually worth the thought and extra effort.  Just don’t let old grudges go too far.  Like that baseball thing of mine.  I may have let that one get out of hand.  Play Ball!

Wherever The Day Takes You

I took my first official road trip of the year. Well, it wasn’t really a road trip.  It was only about a hundred miles...round trip.  And it wasn’t on a motorcycle.  But it was on a road.  After an extended period of not getting out much, I wanted to get back to my original intent for this “What’s Your Road” blog.  Specifically, traveling to different and unusual places near and far, then report my experiences, observations and opinions.  Or, travel to familiar places and try to see them from a different perspective.  All in hopes of encouraging others to seek out new experiences for themselves and see things in a new light or with a more creative eye.  It’s fun.  And you don’t have to go very far. Sometimes only about a hundred miles round trip.
For my latest adventure I decided to check out the abundance of antique stores in the area.  First stop – The Bag Lady Antique Mall.  The name alone makes you want to go inside.  So I went inside.  Almost immediately I spied something sitting on a desk behind the counter that stopped me in my tracks.  It was an old black and white photograph of Audrey Hepburn in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s.  I know old photos of Audrey Hepburn are fairly common, and I’ve probably seen most of them (big fan) but I had never seen this exact image before.  It was small, maybe a 4 x 6, but it was very cool and I wanted it.  This particular photo was on a desk behind the counter.  The Bag Lady herself was there that day so I said I would like to buy it.  She turned me down!  “Not for sale,” she said.  I told her I was willing to make a very reasonable offer, but she was firm.  I was a little upset...until she explained. The picture had been a birthday gift from her friend, and she considered it a prized possession.  One she would never sell to anyone for any price.  It was obvious I was not going to change her mind, but that's ok.  I’m actually pleased to be reminded that there are some things that money can’t buy.  So there was that, plus there was sort of a mini art gallery in the back of the store with some very nice Ansel Adams prints.  I didn't buy any art.  But I did get two records for a buck.

Upon leaving the store I happened to glance down an alley as I passed by and noticed an entrance to a building marked by twin doors painted bright red.  The color was in stark contrast to the drab walls and it struck me as a cool photo opportunity.  So I grabbed my cameras...a film and a digital...from my car to take a few shots.  About this time a very well dressed woman in a short skirt and heels came around the corner, shuffled up next to these red doors, leaned back against the wall, tossed a tiny smile my way, took out a cigarette and lit it.  When I say "well dressed" I mean slightly revealing.  Not sleazy, but definitely not conservative either.  Are you seeing where I'm going with this?  Heels.  Short skirt.  Smoking.  Red door.  Now get those thoughts out of your head because it's NOT what you're thinking. She obviously worked in a store or office close by and was just taking a smoke break.  But it did look kind of bad.  I wanted to say something like "Lady! Dig yourself will ya?"  But I didn't say anything.  I just took the pictures and moved on like there was nothing to see.  And I guess there wasn't really.

Next stop - St. Joe Antiques Mall.  I hit the jackpot at this place!  After a considerable time of wandering in and out of the multitude of displays and booths on the main level without success I moved down to the lower level.  And there it was...at the bottom of the stairs...on the shelf right in front of me...next to a ceramic chicken..the camel.  The hairiest, ugliest, oddest looking item I had seen so far that day.  I had to have it.  But there might be problem.  After careful examination I could not find a price.  That did not bode well, as it could mean it would turn out to be a very expensive camel. Since I did not come to this place with unlimited resources and money was, in fact, an object, I attempted to play it cool and not let on that I really wanted that camel.  "How much for the camel?" I said casually to the man behind the counter.  He inspected it, said he needed to check with someone else, then proceeded upstairs to parlay with the resident camel expert.  After a few minutes had passed he came back down with a look on his face that I took to mean "you can't afford THIS camel."  But then the words I wanted to hear came next..."two dollars."  Well that settled it.  "I'll take it!" I fired back.  Now, I must admit that those who have seen this camel since it's acquisition have not been nearly as enthusiastic about it as I am.  So take a look and decide for yourself.   Pretty cool, huh?

One more thing - what's with all the chickens?  Every store I visited that day in four different towns had chickens.  Lots of chickens.  Plaster chickens, glass chickens, rubber chickens, metal chickens.  All styles, sizes and manner of chickens.  Has it always been this way and I just never noticed before? Or, is this whole "chicken" thing a rather recent phenomenon?  I think we should keep an eye on the situation.  We don't want it to get out of hand.

So, you see...what could have been a rather uneventful day, turned out to be just the opposite. Not in any truly meaningful, life-changing way, but still fun and interesting nonetheless.  I hope I've illustrated (in my rambling, slightly curious way) that any day can be an enjoyable and fun day no matter what road you're on.  Because everybody has a road.  What's yours?

Sign Your Work

Several years ago I found myself lying in a hospital bed recovering from heart bypass surgery.  There were bandages on my legs that needed changing regularly.  The bandages were necessary because during bypass surgery the doctor takes veins from another part of your body, in this case my legs, and uses them to make a detour around the blocked area in the arteries.  My particular situation involved five blocked arteries, and I think there are only a total of six in a human heart, so I pretty much managed to ruin almost all of mine with thirty years of bad habits.  But - that’s another story.  This story is about why I believe everyone should “sign” their work.  How I came to believe this has to do with the nurse that came in every evening to change those bandages on my legs.  He was fairly young, but had a steady manner and confidence about him that assured me I was in good hands.  After unwrapping and then wrapping my legs again in a firm, neat covering of sterile bandages he would take out a small black marker pen and sign his name right on the front of my leg just below the knee.  It piqued my curiosity, and after the second or third time I asked him why he did that.  He answered without hesitation. “It keeps me from getting lazy and careless.”  He went on to say that by signing his name to the dressings he was taking responsibility for his work, and holding himself accountable for his actions. 
Now, honestly, how often do you hear THAT these days?  It seems like all too often we just hear excuses…”I can’t…I don’t…  I won’t…it’s too hard…too early…too late…the sun got in my eyes.”  You get the idea.  If everyone would assume responsibility for their own actions and words the world would probably be a much better place, for several reasons.  Not the least of them being maybe everybody would try a little harder, or measure their words more carefully. 
I am not saying that everybody’s “work” must be flawless.  Some have abilities and talents that others don’t.  But everyone has the ability to try their best.  I was walking in Art Alley recently (in downtown Rapid City between 6th and 7th Streets) and amidst all of the graffiti I was able to find a little bit of art – including this:

OK, so it’s not a masterpiece.  But I like it.  And it’s a lot better than anything I could do.  Notice it is signed.  I think that took a certain amount of courage.  Any time we identify ourselves with something we do or create, we open ourselves up to scrutiny and possible criticism.  But it should be worth the risk.  People will respect and appreciate the fact that you’re not someone who is quick to place blame or make excuses. 

By the way, this whole “sign your work” idea should not be only about physical things.  You can’t sign something you say or some action you take, but you can be open, honest and sincere about it.  Just do the best you can, and be prepared to take responsibility for the results. That’s all anyone can ask.  Regardless of the outcome, you can take pride in the result as long as you put forth your best effort.  And if things don’t work out the way you planned or hoped they would, don’t try to make it the fault of someone or something else.  Wayne Dyer said,  "All blame is a waste of time. No matter how much fault you find with another, and regardless of how much you blame him, it will not change you."  So, try to be good at what you do.  And sign your work.

Roger O'Dea  02/24/2012

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The Good Old Days - Then and Now

I have been thinking lately about the "good old days."  About how much fun we had.  And about how it's too bad that anyone under 50 years old totally missed out on all those cool things we experienced in our youth.  Yeah, we were cool alright.  I mean really cool, as in bad, which was actually good.  Let me put it into more familiar terms.  I'll use Jeff Foxworthy's "You might be a redneck..." theme as a common reference to help make my point.  (If you are under 50 - stick around.  I have a few things to say about your good old days).

If you knew someone whose name was Penrod, you might be over 50.

If you put out wooden sawhorses to block Main Street on Halloween, you might be over 50.

If you snuck out of the house late at night and took your parent's car for a joyride, you might be over 50.

If you got the game Operation for Christmas (and your tree was decorated with tinsel made out of aluminum), you might be over 50.

If the junior high and high school dances had actual live bands, you might be over 50.

If you went over to your friend's house to listen to records, you might be over 50.

If your dad let you sit on his lap while he was driving and help steer the car, you might be over 50.

If you traveled 200 miles one summer to visit a friend who had moved...and hitchhiked all the way there and back, you might be over 50.

If everybody on your 5th grade basketball team wore the same outfit (white t-shirts and shorts) and had the same haircut, you might be over 50.

 

And...if you wore a leisure suit to work, you might be over 50.

If you haven't guessed by now, all of those things come from my personal experience.  But, I'm pretty sure there are others, many others, who know exactly what I'm talking about. 

Now - for those of you under 50, the truth is that you really haven't had it so bad.  Just think of all the cool things you have.  Like iPods and Smartphones.  Skyrim and Call of Duty.  Snowboards and mountain bikes.  The list is endless.  And the list is different for each individual person.  So, there really are no "good old days."  Because, whether you are a child of the sixties or a product of the eighties, and whatever fads and fashions you've experienced...they are all part of what brought you to where you are now.  And, as Ziggy Marley sings, "These be the good old days." 

Oh, one more thing - does anybody know when and why 'streaking' and 'mooning' just sort of died out?  Never mind.  I guess we should just be thankful that they did.  Streaking and mooning.  Wow.  What were we thinking?  Definetely not cool.

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Hell's Angels - The Road To Spearfish

HELL'S ANGELS TO HOLD 2012 RUN IN SPEARFISH

This recent headline in the Black Hills Pioneer newspaper has caused a certain amount of wailing, panic and gnashing of teeth in our local communities.  Most comments I have heard and seen, including some hysterical facebook posts, have been less than positive about the development, to put it mildly.  Apparently some people remember those 60s and 70s exploitation movies about the murderous invading motorcycle gangs, corrupting youth and abusing old people while systematically destroying the town.

But before we get too carried away let's look at some past newspaper reports from around the country...

LACONIA - The 2011 World Run of the Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club has come and gone with authorities reporting no accidents, no incidents and, at least in the City on the Lakes, no arrests of club members or affiliates.

MISSOULA - Other than a few minor dustups, Missoula's Friday night engagement with the Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club passed without any notable alarms or felonious thuggery.  "We're on vacation.  We didn't come all this way to get arrested, we came here to have a good time," said one biker from Omaha, Neb. 

CODY - Despite busy Friday and Saturday nights that saw large crowds in downtown Cody and at the Park County Fair in Powell, there were no arrests involving Hell's Angels members.

CARLTON - Hell's Angels members left Carlton County on Sunday after what's being called one of their most uneventful summer rallies.

You see, it may not be as big of a deal as you think.  It probably depends on whether you see them as charity volunteers helping serve at the community soup kitchen Thanksgiving dinner...

  

Or as mother rapers and father stabbers whose main purpose is to look mean and cause trouble...

My only experience with any Hell's Angels in recent memory was a couple of years ago in Deadwood during the Sturgis Rally.  Two members of the club (I think the patch on their vests said San Pedro Chapter) stopped me on the street and asked if I would take their picture in front of Saloon No. 10.  The one who handed me his camera was wearing long baggy houndstooth shorts with a "Life is Good" t-shirt and pale yellow high-top Converse sneakers.  He did have a lot of tatoos but, still, not really what one would call a menacing figure.  Actually, I've seen mountain bikers around here dressed pretty much the same way.

Let's not panic.  The Run will be close to the time of the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally and we may not even notice a bunch of Hell's Angels in town.  But...in the interest of fairness, and in an attempt to cover both sides of the arguement, I offer the following news article:

CHINO VALLEY - Authorities in Arizona arrested more than two dozen members of the Hell's Angels motorcycle gang in August after a shootout wounded five people in the small community of Chino Valley, north of Prescott.

So, I guess it won't hurt to be a little more careful and alert around that time.  You, know, just in case.

 

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