Now They Tell Us

     After we've gotten shots times two, been boosted and bought multiple cloth masks, it turns out that none of these are foolproof protection against Covid. Ask Dr. Fauci, chief medical adviser to Present Biden. Or now even President Biden. Both have contracted Covid.

    Speaking of Covid, when I went on our cross-country road trip in June with my son Greg and his three boys we rarely saw anyone wearing masks anywhere, even though signs were occasionally posted advising us to wear them. Then we went onto the Navajo reservation at Monument Valley. The welcome center there has a neat gift shop as well as a museum and, of course, the most important necessity during long road trips—a restroom.

     It cost us $30 or so at the gate to get entry into the valley but I thought it should be worth it. Then we parked at the welcome center where a large sign had been erected. It read, “Masks are mandatory in this building. No exceptions!”

    What?? Couldn't this need-to-know information have been posted at the entry gate or communicated by the fee-taker there? I did have a mask (seniors are the most prepared in these situations, aren't they?) but my son didn't have any for his boys.

    I put my mask on and ventured into the gift shop since I figured they surely would have masks for sale there since the Navajo tribal leaders determined that EVERYONE must wear a mask indoors on the reservation. Nope. Lots of Navajo jewelry and fabric souvenirs but nothing that I would call a mask. We took some pretty pictures outside there but it was an expensive photo op.

    Later that trip I recommended what I thought would be a neat dining venue in Estes Park, Colorado. It was called Post Chicken and Beer, a Guy Fieri-touted restaurant that as a bonus sat on the grounds of The Stanley Hotel, inspiration for the Stephen King movie The Shining. I'm all about the macabre.

    So we pulled up to the gate (should have raised a red flag with us by now) and the guard asked why we were here. “To eat some chicken,” my son told him. “That'll work,” the guard said and for a parking fee of $10 he let us pass.

    Then when we presented at the hostess stand, the lady there asked if we had a reservation. Oh, oh. Ummm, the guard didn't say anything about needing a reservation. We didn't have one. So we couldn't dine inside but she said we could sit outside on the breezy, much cooler patio. Greg retrieved sweatshirts from our mini-van later to ward off hypothermia as the sun was beginning to set.

    I ordered the half fried chicken dinner to go with my tasty microbrew. I envisioned a chicken dinner much like you can get at the famous Zehnders restaurant at Frankenmuth, Michigan—fried chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables and a freshly baked roll--all the trimmings.

    Well, I got the chicken anyway. And gravy too. But no potato, salad, bread . . . not even a vegetable unless you count the pickle garnish. I figured if gravy came with the dinner, there had to be something other than chicken. Who orders just chicken and gravy?

    OK, the chicken itself was pretty good but it tasted quite similar to the fried chicken I get at Mr. Hot Dog's in my hometown of Bay City, Michigan. And for much less money, I might add. For what I paid for my chicken at Post chicken, I could have gotten fried chicken and shrimp dinners with extra french fries, a coney dog and a vanilla milk shake at Mr. Hot Dog's. AND gotten change back too!

    So now I'll know for the next time I visit Post Chicken and Beer in Estes Park. Make a reservation first. And order something else besides the fried chicken.