Saturday, May 2, 2009


Yes, it is a Saturday night and we've been a 'scootie-pootin! How times change. I'm afraid we've slowed down to where its just going out for dinner now. No "hootin & a'hollerin & howling at the moon". What can I say? At least the place was special if the dinner lacked a bit. We went to the Spaghetti Warehouse in Akron.

The massive B. F. Goodrich tire complex has been vacated by Goodrich. Except for a few racing tires built by Firestone, tire production is gone from what used to be "The Rubber Capital of the World". Tire town is just a memory. Large and small business places have replaced the tire industry in Akron and B. F. Goodrich is a good example.

From the office to the factory, the buildings of the Goodrich complex are used for everything from a GOJO plant to a college. (Our granddaughter takes nursing classes there). One of the smaller, and older, buildings has become a restaurant. It is called "The Spaghetti Warehouse". The entrance has a wooden soldier and an old fashioned penny arcade.

The large, modern parking lot is full and crowded. The wait to be seated time is long. Julie and I have learned the secret to being seated immediately. We ask for the diner. Inside this huge warehouse is an old fashioned street car with dining facilities. I guess it does not have the same atmosphere but we like it better.

The spaghetti is about average. I ordered plain spaghetti and meat balls. Julie ordered the same thing for a few dollars more with a couple links of sausage. The salad was nothing to brag about nor was the bread. Just salad and bread. Service was so so. The cost, with a modest tip, was $40. Oh, well. Easy come, easy go huh? The only real benefit was that Julie, who is still ill, didn't have to cook. And, Walt, who is still as lazy as ever, didn't have to cook either. UMMM

Uh, this is going a'scootie-pootin? I am getting old! Better that than the alternate I guess. The highlights as we ate our meal was receiving a comment on one of my blogs from Myrna in Venice, FL. Good to hear from you Myrna. Com 'on back!

Lyndon B. Johnson:

Every man is entitled to a Saturday night bath.

God Bless

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