When low and behold we came across the pinkest diner I've ever seen.
"Want to eat there?"
"Anywhere," said The Storm, "just please feed us."
Every now and then, when you're simply looking not to perish, you stumble on a rocking good time.
Such was our case, yesterday, when we chanced upon Beeps, a 1950's diner on the corner of Sherman Way and Woodley Avenue, serving traditional steakcut fries, burgers and shakes, as well as salads and avacado turkey burgers, and pretty much everything in between.
I had the avacado turkey burger and a chocolate shake that was so delicious, I pushed through several brain freezes and loud unladylike slurps to get every last drop.
Speaking of unladylike, the paraphrenalia that covered the walls kept us entertained throughout our meal. With a point and a mouth-covered snicker, The Storm directed me to this particular postcard that a year ago she wouldn't have understood--only because its in cursive. (As the youngest, she's so much more educated than her siblings were at her age.)
A few things that I discovered, during our hour at Beeps, while the kids swiveled on their high stools:
1. The Storm, having only every seen photos in black and white, believed that Marilyn Monroe and Lucille Ball were one and the same.
And she couldn't name either of them. "There's that lady again."
2. She's never heard of the Brady Bunch, and thought it was weird that amongst all this memorabilia was a regular family photo.
3. Hollywood is familiar with The Beatles, because Big Time Rush has introduced him, but he can't name them.
"Kendall, James, Carlos, and Logan," said The Storm.
"This is terrible," I said, and put down my burger down. Once I opened the who's-who door, I couldn't get the answers out fast enough, before a glance in another direction inspired the next question.
"Who's Audrey Hepburn?"
"Who's John Wayne?"
"Who's James Dean, and why is he so special?"
Anyway, the fun just kept on coming!
Surely, they won't retain half of what they learned at Beeps: We visited John Wayne's home in Madison County, Iowa, just a few years earlier, but they can't remember that--and why should they, he's just an old cowboy to them.
The lessons that stick are the ones that matter to us, personally.
"Thanks Mom," said Hollywood, from the backseat, several hours later when we were somewhere near Barstow, "for always doing my laundry for free."
"You're welcome, Buddy."