Sitting around the table during Thursdays orgy of roasted poultry, an odd question arose: With all the leftovers, does anyone order a turkey sandwich for lunch at a restaurant on the day after Thanksgiving? Butterball and Family
As a man of substantial girth and appetite, Action Line relishes the opportunity to answer food-related queries.
Alas, yours took a mere single journey to the downtown Subway.
It was high noon Friday. Action Line ordered a 6-inch Veggie Delight (atonement for the previous days gluttony), which Subway sandwich artist Andrew Strickhuasen quickly made.
So, do you guys sell any turkey today?
Heck, yes! Andrew replied. I made at least half a dozen so far.
Youre kidding. People still want turkey?
Just then, as if on cue, Chelsy Reed walked in. Chelsy was on break from her job at Hair Fusion.
Id like a turkey sandwich, she said.
Andrew and Action Line shared a chuckle.
Chelsy explained that turkey is her favorite.
Its so good, and Im not a fan of other lunch meats, she said.
Another reason for Friday turkey: Some folks were Thanksgiving guests and therefore dont have leftovers, which might be a blessing in disguise.
Theres always a rouge container of beans, yams or other side dish that grows a coat of bluish-grey hair after several weeks of refrigerated neglect.
We usually discover these science experiments as when trying to find room in the fridge for the Christmas leftovers.
Good thing a new set of Tupperware makes a lovely Yuletide gift.
b b b
The post-Thanksgiving Mea Culpa Mail Bag is an overflowing cornucopia of opinions.
b A miffed reader, Former City Snowplow Driver, points out that Action Line is a liar and calls last weeks column slander and offending.
At issue: the observation that the city did a bad job of snow removal last winter.
I plowed for days to ensure the town was plowed every time it snowed. ... No rest, no time with my family. ... Youre a bold-faced liar! Former Driver asserts.
I dare you to volunteer one shift! Get up at 10 p.m. and plow for 18 hours straight! Until you have done it, you cant talk! the tirade continued.
If you live on some dinky little street, yeah, you werent plowed out immediately, but every thoroughfare in town was done! Talk is cheap! concludes Former Driver.
Action Line must admit Durango thoroughfares, indeed, were plowed fairly well last winter.
Problem is, Action Line and 99 percent of Durangoans live on dinky little streets, thus we werent able to get to those thoroughfares that Former Driver and his co-workers so diligently plowed.
b Our friend Nancy Shanks, spokeswoman for the Colorado Department of Transportation, takes a kinder, gentler approach.
Last weeks column lambasted the animal-warning system on U.S. Highway 160 and suggested the Wildlife Detected signs be changed to Morons Detected to boost safety.
Nancy reminds us that CDOTs mission is to save both critters and drivers.
On 160 east of Durango, nearly 75 percent of all accidents involve wildlife not good, she writes.
We cant keep drivers from driving, and we cant fully barricade the migrating critters, Nancy observes. Thus, a creative approach to minimize motorist-animal interaction.
She points out that the warning system is the first of its kind, so naturally there will be glitches and the manufacturers upgrades arent at taxpayer expense.
I drove through the other day saw two signs a-flashing, one deer a-jumping and a partridge in a pear tree. Alas, the four or five drivers behind me probably saw NO deer, as it quickly jumped back into the brush, she writes.
And since the warning sign stays on for 60 seconds, even if Bambi flees, these four to five drivers may feel as you do, that the system is a failure.
Let us continue to modify it, as you suggested, and let the data speak for itself, she points out.
If you still think it doesnt work, well look into that moron sign you suggested.
Signed, Your CDOT Pal, Nancy
E-mail questions to firstname.lastname@example.org or mail them to Action Line, The Durango Herald, 1275 Main Ave., Durango, CO 80301. You can request anonymity if you donate your pocket change or a spare buck every time you pass a red Salvation Army kettle.