By sometime in August, the Spangler BBQ will have lost its novelty. However, today it was exciting to get a cheeseburger from the grill to the tune of "Our Lips are Sealed." The guy who runs the grill seems to have a habit of talking copiously to the food in front of him. "Ah its a lonely cheeseburger, come to daddy." It's a little alarming that every year they get a black guy to do the grill. Given that there are a lot of black guys on the Restaura staff, this could be merely coincidental. I guess, also, it takes a certain amount of machismo to want to stand in front of that hot grill at high noon on the hottest days of the year. You probably would not see my scrawny white ass doing such a thing. They really ought to have a tip jar for the BBQ guy.

This all makes me want to listen to "They Smoke the Barbeque" by Pere Ubu. Which is actually a fantastic song:

"I lie awake
I was waiting for the clouds to break
No doubt you've heard
about the door in through the Northern Pole
It's hard to believe
Are there people really living underneath?
I hear they live on fruit and air
I hear they love ole Yogi Bear
I hear they're good at parking cars
I hear they want to be like we are

They'll move next door
They'll be a part of the neighborhood
But as sad as we are
the company must love misery
Now that we're on the downside of forever
I fear hard times are beginning
for real

I hear their sky is pink all day
I hear they love ole Yogi Bear
I hear they sneak around at night
I hear they want to be like we are
We stay up late
We're waiting for the clouds to break
Through the barbeque smoke
men from Mars?
It's no joke!
We're not alone
and eager eyes watch the sky
My new buddies and me
we say
Misery must love company"

Barbeque and Martians. It doesn't get any better than that!...