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Show Page A4 Thursday, September 4, 1986 Park Record WHnaM9y3i Open 7 days a week 8-6 Weekdays Sun. 10-5 1351 Kearns Blvd. 645-9800 Park City by Rick Drouth (ThmlciSm) SAT THE EMPORIUM ANNOUNCES that we now carry the complete line of CuprinorStain& Wood Preservative When it's wood against weather Protects against mildew, watermarks and rot Helps keep wood beautiful. Protects the finish of your home, deck, outdoor furniture. Beauty and protection. Famous Black & White Lable JUST IN TIME FOR WINTER PROTECTION Tlie (Erato Steak.. For a (Great Steak! And delicious prime rib, succulent seafood and our famous 35-item salad bar. BREAKFAST Monday-Saturday 7:30-9:30 a.m. DINNER Monday-Thursday 5:30 to 10 p.m. Friday - Saturday 5:30 to 11 p.m. Sunday 5-10 p.m. SUNDAY BRUNCH 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m. every Sunday year-round. LUNCH Monday-Friday 11:30-2:30 p.m.i Saturday 12 noon Enjoy live entertainment Friday and Saturday evenings in the Grub Steak's relaxing Western Atmosphere For more information please call 649-8060 or 649-7100 Park City's Favorite Restaurant K h S I 1 R N I at Prospector Square Hotel A family's Park City adventure Bobby woke up. On the instant, he bounded out of bed like a shot. His heart was pounding. After all, this was the day the family was going to Go Out. Bobby jumped and bounded down the stairs of the modest Park Meadows home where he lived. He was so excited he could barely keep down his orange juice and a slice of toast. He didn't eat much, but he wasn't supposed suppos-ed to, because at noon the family was going to Go Out. The excitement was infectious. His older sister Susie and his dog Skippy felt it. Even his fish Guppy seemed to be swimming around in the aquarium with more animation. anima-tion. The only one who wasn't excited was Bobby's older brother, Billy. Billy picked on Bobby, twisting his ear and rubbing his face into their bright-green Park Meadows lawn. Billy was always a lousy bum, thought Bobby, picking grass from between his teeth. But why was he so especially mean today? This special day? Finally, it was noon. It was time to Go Out. The family left Park Meadows. The road stretched on mile after mile, telephone pole after telephone pole. Bobby Bob-by thought they'd never get there, as he and Susie bounced bounc-ed and jiggled and cavorted in the back seat. But finally they arrived at Kimball Junction. Bobby's mouth opened with awe. The golden arches loomed huge and magnificent before him. He wet his pants, but fortunately Father and Mother had anticipated an-ticipated this, and lined the back seat with plastic. "There it is, kids," said Father. "There's McDonald's." Father and Mother smiled to themselves. Park City in many ways was cut off from the rest of the world. The people lived simply, eating mostly at 40 or 50 specialty gourmet restaurants. For a Park City child, therefore, it was a special event when they saw the opening of a new fast-food establishment. establish-ment. Bobby had grown up around 7-Elevens and Dairy Queens. They had been there as long as he could remember. But a McDonald's was new! "Don't see what the big crappy deal is," grumbled Billy. Bil-ly. "It's been running for two weeks." "Where's Ronald McDonald?" bubbled Bobby. Billy snapped, "Ain't no such guy. He doesn't exist." Bobby yelled, "Does so! Does so! You're a liar! You're always a liar. You said there wasn't no Mrs. Fields, but we saw her! " The family walked into the fresh, clean multicolored interior. Bobby and Susie ran and jumped and bounced and yelled and sprinted and climbed and sprawled and screamed all over the restaurant. Mother smiled. At the same time, she made a mental note to talk to Father about what the school counselor said about feeding the kids too many sugar-coated cereals. Bobby looked at the McDonald's people in their gleaming gleam-ing uniforms. The staff moved like a well-oiled machine, dispensing fries, burgers and Cokes with brisk, bright smiles on their faces. Some even wore radio sets, as they communicated with cars waiting outside in the take-out lane. "Wow," thought Bobby. "I bet they can pick up satellites on those things. Or they can talk to the Highway Patrol, an tell 'em to go and shoot it out with those folks who left without payin'." Bobby was going to join McDonald's one day. He might even become a branch manager. Or he'd invent a new bun! He spotted his best friend, Jimmy Forrest, at a table with his family. They had often talked about what they would do when they got here. Jimmy yelled, "Go ahead and say it. Betcha can't say it!" But Bobby was ready. He ran up to the counter and yelled, "Twoallbeefpattiesspecialsaucelet-tucecheesepicklesoniononasesameseedbun "Twoallbeefpattiesspecialsaucelet-tucecheesepicklesoniononasesameseedbun ! ' ' The rest of the family made their orders and retired to a gleaming table looking out over the magnificent scenery of the Snyderville Basin. Outside, deer and raccoons rac-coons and rabbits frolicked in the grassy buffer between the restaurant and the highway. This wasn't the first fast-food for Susie, but she was excited too. Her mouth was full of chicken fillet, but she said, "Dad, you think Herb will come here? Maybe he'll give us a prize!" Billy suddenly exploded. "You shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! You stupid dumb stupid girl! Herb'd never come here! Herb goes to Burger King, not crappy old McDonald's ! You shut up ! " Billy burst out crying. His tears fell into his McDonald's shake, making it even sloshier than its usual consistency. Father had been wondering about Billy, but now he understood. He put his broad, gentle arms around the boy. "Your first time was at Burger King, wasn't it? It's always been your favorite." Billy blubbered, "Broiling's still better than frying, ain't it, Dad?" Father smiled, "Sometimes it is, son. But some times, frying's good too. Y'know, there's even this place called Wendy's, where they make these wonderful hamburgers in these huge grease vats. "When you're young, I know it seems like the whole world can get along with Whoppers. But as you grow older, you realize there are other things, like Big Macs. There are lots of different junk foods in this country. That's what makes us great. We're always going to get new fast food. But you don't lose a Burger King. You gain a commercial zone. "The same thing will happen to Bobby. Right now, he thinks there's nothing but Quarter-Pounders and Mc-Cookies. Mc-Cookies. But he'll learn there's other things, like Priazzo at Pizza Hut. "I went through it, too. When I was a kid, we had to walk a mile to this place called Arctic Circle..." "Aw, dad, not again," Billy moaned. But he wasn't crying anymore. "Okay," Dad chuckled. "But I want you to do a whole bunch of things for me. First, dry your eyes. And then think about what I've said. And be good to your little brother. This is a special day for him. Think you can do all that?" " ' Billy managed a joke. "We do it all for you, Dad," he said. "That's my trooper," said Father. He turned back to his meal. But he found Mother had gobbled up every single bit of their large fries. "You're developing some strange cravings, Mother," he said. "Yes," she said, reflectively. "You know, I think we might be having another special order on the way. " - ' "You mean?..." "Yes," said Mother. Her eyes misted over thinking of the next nine months, and of the little life inside her, bouncing and jumping and scratching and clawing and pounding and pulling. Father clutched her hand quietly. "If we start saving now, we can get him a whole set of Flintstone glasses from Taco Bell." "You mean HER," she said. by Teri Gomes So tell me... did you know... Any host or hostess can throw people in a room and pour drinks and arrange crackers and cheese on a plate. Recently I was reminded the finest gatherings include promoting that oft-neglected art form; small talk. The importance of combining the right elements of people in the right setting is not an absolute guarantee your evening will be memorable, but it is a start in the right direction. Lately I have found myself in a couple of dreadful gatherings where the conversation was as frozen as the canapes. One recent mingle stands out not because of the food (which was lovely) or the drinks (which were plentiful) but because of the quality of the small talk which floated around that room like Joan Collins making a staircase entrance. Small talk is not for small minds. It is separated from Big Talk which takes place, one assumes, in corporate boardrooms and closed session meetings. No, small talk is the balanced volley between reasonably intelligent individuals who don't reduce themselves to talking just about personal causes, but can banter on any number of topics with ease. Let me explain how in Park City gatherings you can get trapped if you haven't mixed the room. Take realtors for example fill a room with them and you hear about which properties are in default, who almost has closed a deal and why nothing is selling in Deer Valley this week. Boring. Or teachers. Put them all in a room without desks and they talk to you like they still have a chalkboard behind them. They talk about their students and their students' parents and the lack of time they have to try new and innovative in-novative things. You get the picture. But mix the room with a few realtors, teachers, city employees and just plain folks and drop a gem like "Did you read Mary Lehmer's last letter to the editor?" and you can be certain the dialogue will fly. Or take one topic and see how many ways you can play it out during the course of the evening. This is good fun. This is small talk at its smallest. Here's how this works throw out a generic, "How 'bout those Miners!" and then listen while everyone places verbal bets on how the high school football team will do this season. That could lead to a discussion about the new coach who is also a counselor which could lead to talk about how Park City can boast an incredibly high percentage of college bound students which could lead one to ask if we do enough to prepare kids for vocational careers which might start the ball rolling about possible vocational uses for the old high school owned by the city and hey, do you think city employees have too generous a benefit package? That is small talk destined to get a number of people involved and exchanging ideas. Certain topics in Park City can be dropped on the table like red wine and either stain an evening or are quickly picked up. This week you might eye the crowd before you say, "So, do you think the council made the right decision in allowing Randy Fields the permit to demolish the little red house?" (Just a note, Randy and Debbi Fields are always good to liven up a conversation. Throw out the name of any number of self-made people and you can expect the room to sit and speak. Also good in this catagory are Craig Badami, Mac MacQuoid, Bill Coleman, Edgar Stern, Madeline Smith, Jacquie Jackson Cote and Jan Peterson.) Good gossip is always welcome. Nothing really harmful harm-ful mind you, silly stuff. Like the recent party when my friend pulled me inside a closet and told me about a well-known well-known Parkite socialite who bared her soul and all other assets on a trip to Lake Powell with her surprised boat guests. She took her topside er. tcpside. The Body Beautiful in question was also M the party and this added add-ed a hint of excitement to the ti latingnlk Then there's the little game you can play with people and couples, like seating Dell and Carol next to Carol and Jerry alongside Jerry and Judy to the left of Judy and Mike and the across from Mike and Toni and, well, you see how it goes. Small talk to fill out a long evening should also go beyond the borders of Utah. Questions about the state of Andrew Wyeth's marriage upon the release of his paintings pain-tings of another woman would be lively, along with discourses on say the camera angle used in the movie "Extremities" or can you picture Sean Connery as the monk in "The Name of The Rose" and did you really read the whole book? It strikes a vein with me too often when we go to a social function we lead ourselves into the room with blinders on from our job or private life. In the interest of better conversations I'm going to be so bold to suggest you take time this week to get small. Pick up People magazine, USA Today, listen to Blair on KPCW , watch public television and then be ready for a little verbal volley. In the meantime, how 'bout those colors on the Memorial Building? |