Classic Breakfast

Regular readers of The Bent Page know that breakfast is my favorite meal. (Actually, I enjoy every meal but I had to pick one as number one and breakfast took the spot.) Well, one of my favorite places to have breakfast, aside of my kitchen table, is The Classic Diner in Malvern, Pennsylvania, USA. This place is the hands down winner for breakfast foods diner-style in my range of artery-plugging places.

The Classic Diner is located on Route 30. You can’t miss it because there’s always two dozen cars parked in the lot and a line of people out the door. I sneak in here about once every ten days when I’m in the area. Back to the food. When you order a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and rye toast, this is what they present at your table.

I actually started whaling on that before taking the photo, so I apologize for the mess. Trust me, the presentation is fantastic. This is not your average diner. The Classic has it’s own line of bacon that you can see there, which they cut about 1/8 inch thick and slow fry on the griddle. It is smoky, chewy, and delicious. The potatoes are also excellent, not the usual re-fried been on the side since 4AM kind.

Perhaps the most amazing thing about this place is that the prices are only about one or two dollars more per plate than your run of the mill diner. Given that the service is as good as any elegant supper spot, the quality of the food equally high, and the quantity enough to stuff two people from every plate, the value can not be beat. Did I mention they bake their own breads which are for sale by the loaf? Did I mention they bake their own sticky buns for the table or take away? Did I mention you could eat yourself into oblivion here?

Thus, if you’re in the Philadelphia area, don’t miss The Classic Diner. (In a couple of months I’ll post about their cheeseburgers. Just take your favorite cut of steak and make it into a burger. Yes, that good.)

Published in: on August 27, 2008 at 12:03 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Gear UP!

I remember my first flight. It was on the old Eastern Airlines. My family and I flew from Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton airport in Pennsylvania to Orlando, Florida. It was a Disney vacation for the five of us. The plane was not very crowded and we were allowed to spread out. I clambered into a window seat to watch the take off. For a small boy, it was huge thrill.

Since then, I’ve done my share of flying in various types of aircraft, from jetliners to small single engine craft to helicopters. Each time the plane makes that final turn onto the runway for takeoff, I can’t help but anticipate the joy of leaving the ground. The sound of the landing gear locking in the up position means we’re on our way to cruising altitude.

These days I’m fortunate to be able to travel to several faraway places on an annual basis. The downside is that travel is not as friendly as it was back on that flight with Eastern. Something happens when people get in line at the airport for a security check. Whatever it is, it only gets worse when they board the plane. By the time they’re in the air, they’re practically out of their minds. They commit all sorts of horrible acts. They harass the cabin staff. They expect gourmet meals from a galley the size of a closet. They have to smack the seats in every direction on their way back and forth to the lavatory the way a five-year-old would. On top of it all, they complain that their ticket costs too much. Really? They probably paid less per mile than it costs to drive a car with four paying people over the same distance.

I have no idea what causes this form of behavior. Flying used to be fun, glamourous, and exciting. I remember people used to dress well for a trip on an airplane. Now, it’s like a cattle call for that annoying character in every sitcom. Why? If you simply want to grind on people, pick another place, like your local Marine Corps base where the people inside might give back plenty of what you dish out. They might enjoy it and you might find it instructional.

Sadly, this experience replicates itself on cruise ships, in hotel lobbies, and on beaches, not to mention the line at the grocery store, the local freeway, and the movie theatre. I witness it and can’t help but wonder, “Man, can’t you work out your issues some other way?” I hear so many people talk about the pressure they’re under, the stress, the awful lives they lead. Hey, man, change it. Again, don’t tell me you can’t. It only took Edison a couple thousand tries before he got the light bulb. The Wright Brothers wrecked plenty of planes before they got one to fly. No doubt Harley and Davidson wiped out a good many bikes before straddling a cruiser that took to the road with all the glory they had envisioned. These people were doing things for the first time, things no one had done before. The rest of us, we’re your average citizen simply on the way from one place to another. Going along to get along might be the way to think and act.

Life is a work in progress, not a perfect state of being. Relax, enjoy the journey. When you figure out where you’re going, the destination will be still be there.

Published in: on August 26, 2008 at 9:05 am  Comments (3)  
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Ask Your Past About The Future

Go back to the September after you graduated high school. Think of yourself at that time and place and all that you thought you knew. Now, if someone described your life as you now live it, would you have believed them? This question is about facts. A person simply tells you, “This is what your life will be like.” There are no judgments, no explanations, no clarifications. “This is it.”

I don’t think I would have believed that person, not even if I, myself, had come back to tell me. (Not sure on the grammar of that sentence but you know what I mean.) Seriously, my life has taken more detours than an alley cat, and all the while I was damn sure I was reading the signs correctly, but I never ended up where I thought I was going. Yes, life can be like that. It’s not necessarily bad. In fact, I think it’s good. There have been many more happy accidents than bad incidents, a fair number of good finds, and just a few encounters with tragedy and disaster.

Still, it makes me wonder just what’s in store for tomorrow, or next week, or ten years from now. I know people who are singularly driven toward a specific goal. They’re like a running back who’s headed for the end zone with the football. There are all types of obstacles in his way, but he’s focused on the touchdown. My question for people like this is not what happens if you don’t make it but what happens if you do make it. Then what? It’s sort of the old be careful what you wish for, you might get it – type of thing. Sure, you could head out for another score, maybe even another game, or retire to the stands. That’s fine. Just the same, sometimes the thrill of playing greatly exceeds the joy of winning.

I’ve thought about the great artists of history this way. When Michelangelo finished the Sistine Chapel, did he sit back with a cappuccino and think that he’d done the best work he ever would? I’d guess not, but then again, I’ve heard stories about people who realized their best work was behind them. I suppose this is true for athletes because eventually their bodies wear out. What about writers? Or painters? Or businessmen? Do you have just so many arrows in your quiver and when they’re gone, they’re gone?

I’ve strayed away from the premise of my original question. Coming back to it now, I’m imagining in the present that my future self has come back to tell me what my life is like twenty years in the future. I’m listening closely, nodding my head, accepting it all. The only thing I can conclude is that I’ll have to leave room in the schedule for plenty of unpredictable occurrences if I’m going to get to the place I will be twenty years hence.

Published in: on August 25, 2008 at 10:26 am  Leave a Comment  
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Soundtracks for Writing

Spending time telling yourself stories requires a soundtrack. I write in all kinds of places, from shopping malls, to barrooms, to the back office of a commercial tire shop, to an actual office where writing is supposed to be done. Each one of these places has a unique soundtrack. It may be murmuring voices, the hush of Muzak over the PA, the rattle of bottles and glasses, or the infinite selection available on iTunes. I enjoy the variety not only of the venues, but also of the white noise around me.

As would be expected, a good soundtrack enhances the story. Of course, you can’t hear the soundtrack of the written word. Nonetheless, the words can be infused with the mood and style of the music. Film school taught me to pay as much attention to the audio as to the visual aspects of a scene. It would be foolish to ignore the same simply because books are not inherently auditory in nature. In fact, one of the great things about reading is how the imagination fills in the sights, sounds, smells, and feel of the words on the page.

If I’m having difficulty working on a particular part of a story, I’ll change my writing venue or music as a sort of kick-in-the-pants way of getting things going. This typically works. I chalk it up to not having the right soundtrack.

Published in: on August 24, 2008 at 11:54 am  Leave a Comment  
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