Sum Dim, Sum Don’t, Sum Just Dumb – Who else would end up in a Japanese restaurant in the middle of San Francisco’s Chinatown.
The Sushi Boat Restaurant offers authentic Japanese cuisine and sushi, which is served in miniature boats floating around the chef’s table. Not being a sushi eater, I simply ordered beers. Liz occasionaly saw a boat float by that offered a small plate of something she either liked, recognized, or was willing to try. Our Australian mate not only loved sushi but was removing the boats cargo quite often and he had accumulated a rather high stack of little plates. Patrons downstream viewed him as a 20th century pirate. Slowly floating towards them comes a little treasure of some rice and fish blob, and they watched in horror as time after time Wayne’s arm reaches out and steals the bounty before it reaches them. I realized the farther you sit at the end of the line, the less options or longer wait you have before something floats by that you want. The servings are quite small, maybe typical for most sushi dishes – but it may be awhile before your ship sails in. A tip to those interested – the water flows in one direction – sit close to where the chef places the boats into the stream. And what about the little river??? Anyone ever do a test of these waters, don’t think I’d want to know the results. “You not rike Sushi?“, “No, not hungry thanks, I’ll have another Asahi though, please.“
Never been there and probably does not exist today. Located in Santiago, Mexico (although which one, I don’t know). There are two Santiagos, not too far apart from each other, Northeast of Mexico City, one appears to be a city and the other a town. At any rate, one of them was home to the Giant Sombrero Bar, which certainly would have been my bar of choice.
1979: Say What?
Local law enforcement officials turn over to the FBI a printed note found next to the body of Roy William Dale, who died of an apparent suicide in a 1974 Chevy Camaro parked at a Fort Ross Road turnout. The cryptic note implicates Dale in the 1963 assassination of President Kennedy, stating that the hit had been conducted under the command of “the Big H” and alludes to a connection between the fatal 1968 shooting of Sen. Robert Kennedy and a plan to kill his brother Edward (“Two down, one to go”). Strangely, Dale’s hands and feet were tied. A hose from the car exhaust ran into the interior of the vehicle, and (even stranger) the windows were taped tight-inside and outside.
Yep, suicide. Very similar to Texas Law Enforcement officials who determined that the man laying in the field, shot five times in the chest by a single action .22 calibur rifle found near the body, was indeed a suicide. If you’ve ever fired a single action .22 calibur rifle, as I did often as a youngster hunting in Oklahoma, you know that you must draw back the bolt, insert the bullett (one only), close the bolt, but seeing how you are intending to shoot yourself…you must position the barrel against your chest and somehow reach the trigger located way down at the other end of the rifle. The rifle is over 43 inches long and the trigger would be nearly a 36 inch reach. The impact would certainly knock you down, but in the case of this particular man, he gets up, picks up the fallen rifle, and repeats the process four more times until he has successfully shot himself dead.
Texas State Trooper: “Yep, suicide. Case closed, let’s go get us some lunch Buford.”