Saturday, November 25, 2017

"Throwed Rolls and Spooky Houses"

Tuesday, Oct 31, 2017, Sheila and I took a day off and went on a little adventure.  Sheila had always wanted to eat at Lambert's Restaurant near Springfield, Missouri.  We decided to drive up, have a late lunch and then spend the evening in a B&B in Carthage.  Here are some of our snapshots.

The first picture is of Sheila doing a little happy dance that she had FINALLY gotten me to take her to Lamberts.


























I am obviously not as thrilled at the notion
of having a college kid throw bread at me.

















This is the B&B where we stayed in Carthage.  Beautiful old place.  A lot of period furniture.























We drove back on historic Route 66.  Sheila and I have driven the entire length of it in Oklahoma in pieces, just never in one trip. I drove the entire length of it in the 1960's.  From Tulsa to Chicago in one stint and then from California to Tulsa in another.
















Every railroad town had one of these places, the infamous railroad kitty palace.  They were always across the tracks from the polite part of town.  This one happened to be right square on old Route 66.  An amazing number of them have survived as restaurants and museums. 

This is a preserved section of the old road in Southeastern Kansas.  It looked about like this in the early and mid 1950's.















Friday, November 24, 2017

Another Thanksgiving In The Hills

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone and like so many before it, Sheila and I celebrated at Jincy's Kitchen in Keys, Oklahoma, Cherokee Nation, USA.  We had a pleasant drive over and an equally pleasant twenty minutes or sitting on Jincy's front porch enjoying the bright sunshine and the clean, crisp air of the hills.

It is hard to explain to an outsider why Sheila and I keep coming back year after year, driving an hour and half into the Cookson Hills to celebrate the holiday in a tribal era general store turned movie set turned restaurant.

The food has something to do with it.  Debbie cooks in the old fashioned Okie style.  Her food tastes exactly like my mothers, my grandmothers and my other long passed family members.  Debbie does a fabulous job of preserving our Okie food heritage.

But there is more involved as well.  We say grace over the meal.  I am often called upon to do the prayer.  At Jincy's you can pray in the spirit of traditional Thanksgiving without fear of offending anyone.  Here in the hills, Okies still respect our common faith even if some don't share it.  Again, another preservation of our common heritage.

The people are polite. Traditionally, Okies are polite.  It is a custom born out of mutual respect between people who can be very tough indeed when the situation calls for it.  In the culture I grew up in, respect was a big deal.  Everyone deserved it unless they had forfeited that right and failure to give proper respect reflected poorly on the disrespectful person. 

The language spoken here is Okie.  It is a quiet southern drawl touched with a bit of Appalachia. It is soothing to the ear and sweet on the tongue.  I find myself falling back into it when I return to the hills.  You may also hear Cherokee.  At least Cherokee words and phrases.  It is not like the old days when the old timers would sit around conversing in it but the words and phrases are still floating around.

For the holiday meal at least, Jincy's is quiet.  On Saturday nights the place is filled with traditional home made music.  But, on Thanksgiving day, there are kitchen sounds and conversations but no out of control children, snarky millenials or caustic, overbearing matriarchs to keep you in a constant state of counting to ten and minding your tongue.  There are no blaring television sets or even annoying cell phones.  Jincy's is so deep in the hills that many cellphones don't even work.

Holiday meals eaten in a restaurant can be incredibly depressing but Jincy's is different.  Debbie the proprietor makes every guest feel welcome, feeds them an absolutely fabulous old fashioned meal and in the process gives them a precious, short trip back to a time and place where, while we were poor in many things, we were far, far richer in the things that mattered most.