Nurse the Hate: My KFC Policy and NFL Week 5

 

Not too far from my house there is a KFC location.  This is a sentence I'm sure you could type as well as there is likely a KFC location within 5 miles of every American citizen.  This is one of those restaurants that has ceased being anything at all as I drive by it so frequently and never go in that it is part of the background.  It's sort of like a nail salon in that respect.  I theoretically know it exists, but as I would never have reason to walk inside, it could be a two dimensional movie set and I would never know the difference.  

Clearly many people must walk into KFCs as they propagate like mushrooms, but I personally don't eat there.  It's not any sort of elitist foodie stance or consumer vendetta.  I just have a personal policy.  I believe that KFC food is a lot like drinking ouzo.  It might taste pretty good going down, but within a very short window of time, you will be filled with regret and shame.  A KFC meal box might be quite tasty, but in my experience it will only lead to a DefCon4 gastrointestinal crisis.  Thus, I blankly drive past KFC locations knowing that the only thing waiting for me inside is a laxative flavored with The Colonel's Secret Blend Of Eleven Herbs and Spices.  

The last time I can recall eating at a KFC was when the Whiskey Daredevils stopped at a KFC in a bleak part of Indiana on a Sunday while driving home from a gig in Illinois.  We had opened up for Jon Spencer's band Heavy Trash at the Cowboy Monkey in Champaign IL.  The upside for being an opening band is that you play a 45 minute set and then can hang out watching the headliner while knocking back as many comp beers as you decide is a good idea.   This particular night I think we had been given Pabst.  Our nation was going through that period of time where everyone in the garage rock scene ironically drank Pabst while trying to convince each other that it was an acceptable beer.  Pabst, being cheap, was a gift to club promoters who could then save a few bucks giving bands second rate cheap beer while masquerading as being in solidarity with the garage rock community.  It was a dark time in our nation's history.

This scenario is a perfect storm for Leo.  There is unlimited cold beer in a dressing room.  We were in a town where we had a zillion friends.  This meant he could go full-on "party", hold court in the dressing room and really get after it.  Let me confirm with you dear reader that he did.  I know this because the next day he was sprawled out on the second bench seat, a victim of a Pabst/Marijuana Personal "Shock and Awe" tour that he had undertaken.  Indiana's slogan is "wander" but we have usually had the policy of "drive through it as fast as possible because there is nowhere to stop and eat".  For whatever reason, the other three of us decided to stop and get something to eat at anything we deemed mildly acceptable.  I think it was Gary that made the pitch for KFC, which in itself was odd as most of his communication was limited to grunts.  Leo woke up long enough to confirm he wanted something to eat, but was in no condition to actually stand up and walk into any restaurant.  This is when a large tactical error was made on his part.

Leo decided that whatever shitty fast food restaurant we stopped at that we should order him "a number 3 with a Coke".  Krusty and I walked into the KFC and looked up at the menu board.  I shit you not, a #3 meal at this Indiana KFC was a "livers and gizzards platter".  I was stunned.  People came in and ate that in Indiana?  By choice?  I recall saying to Krusty, "Oh my God...  Look at what #3 is!  Should we get him something else?" to which point Krusty replied, "Well, he did say to order him a #3 with a Coke.".  Thus, being men that followed the requests of our fellow bandmates, we ordered the very hungover man a livers and gizzards platter to help settle his stomach.  

I wouldn't say that Leo was disappointed at the meal he was delivered.  He was certainly a little surprised.  I think he said something like "Oh my God... Oh my God.. OK... I can do this.".  This is generally not something you want to have to say before preparing to dine, but these were hard times.  A man had to make do with what he had out on the Indiana plain.  He did manage to shovel down the food with an occasional complaint of the taste of iron and then immediately passed out.  With luck, he would sleep it all off and wake up somewhere near Mansfield.

It was about 45 minutes later when I heard him rustling around behind me as I drove.  "Do you guys have a plastic bag?  I think I have to get rid of these gizzards."  In this case "get rid of" meant "barf up".  Like the moments of panic when you hear your dog getting ready to barf on the carpet, I pulled the van off at the next exit.  It was a place called "Gas Station".  What are the odds that "Gas Station's" men's rooms were closed for construction?  I saw Leo make a panicked trot-run to the two blue plastic outhouses set up beside the cinder block building and duck inside.  He was in there for an extended period of time.  Leo finally came out of the portajohn and looked like one of those dazed victims you see emerge from the rubble of a building collapse.     

"It was bad in there.  Real bad.  I built a little nest to sit there and shit.  There was brown water on the floor.  After I shit I had to barf.  I was gagging.  I kept barfing until there was only foam coming out."

That's what I think of when I think of KFC.  I can tell you that with my marketing background, one of the  things that the good people at Yum Brands, parent company of KFC, Taco Bell and other culinary delights, do not want to use on their sell line of advertising is the phrase "Keep barfing until only foam comes out".   While this might be accurate (and I'm looking at you Cool Ranch Dorito Crunch Wrap) it certainly is not going to "generate and sustain quarterly growth".  Though it is not KFC's fault directly, because of this incident I think they lost my business for the forseeable future.  Really, Pabst should be the ones held accountable or more likely the operators of "Gas Station" but that's not how it shook out.

Now I'm telling you all of this because while sitting at a red light I noticed that the KFC near my house had closed.  The signs were down and a half assed white wash had been done to the building to try and make passersby forget that The Colonel had been forced to leave the community in shame.  I don't know if it was because word of the Livers and Gizzards fiasco and "barfing until foam came out" had destroyed their business, or maybe it was just that consumer tastes had changed.  It's hard to say, but for The Colonel in this neck of the woods, it was over.  Perhaps the location will become a Starbucks.  It's a brutal business.  Next man up.

Speaking of a brutal business and next man up, I think we all saw what happened to Miami Dolphin QB Tua last Thursday night.  It's not often you see a man die on national TV, but thanks to the callous handling of Tua's injury a few days before by the Miami Dolphins, the guy suffered the biggest brain injury you'll probably ever witness.  If I were Tua, I'd take whatever money I've made playing football and leave while you can.  Getting your knee fucked up playing football is one thing, but your brain?  Damn.  Get out of there kid.  Regardless of whatever Tua does, Teddy Bridgewater is going to start on Sunday for the Dolphins against the Jets.

It is always sound financial advice to invest in the Jets losing.  A few weeks ago the speculation around the league was that Tua probably wasn't going to be a franchise QB.  Then his stats blew up, and suddenly Tua was The Man.  Look a little closer.  Tua still wasn't throwing downfield.  He was dropping off dump passes and his insanely fast receivers were tacking on massive yards after catch.  You know who can dump the ball off on short passes really well?  Teddy.  I think an argument could be made that Teddy is a better QB than Tua anyway, but the Dolphins didn't draft Teddy #1, they drafted Tua.  Yet, the line moved a point towards the Jets when Tua was out?  The Jets, despite a bewildering 15 minutes of strong play from Wilson last week, stink.  The Dolphins had a horrible short week after a war with the Bills, and now the narrative of them being unbeatable has cooled off considerably.  I think they right the ship on Sunday and take care of the Jets.  Miami -3.5

I can't believe I am about to type this out, but Geno Smith has been playing well.  Seattle was supposed to be awful, but instead they've been one of those teams in the middle of the pack.  They aren't going to win the NFC West, but they're going to stay in games.  Meanwhile, New Orleans is injury riddled and underperforming expectation.  There was a narrative out there that New Orleans might win the South as the season started.  I've seen this team play twice.  They aren't winning anything.  Winston, Kamara, Thomas are all out.  That means Andy Dalton will guide the Saints capably between the 20s and not be able to score touchdowns in the Red Zone.  Give me the points in a game that I have no intention of watching.  Seattle +5.5

I have no idea what is going on in Cincinnati.  The offensive line that was so triumphantly upgraded can't block anybody.  Burrow has been playing very mediocre football.  The Bengals look sloppy.  They are somehow 2-2 but have played Pittsburgh with MVP Mitch (loss), Dallas where Dak got hurt (loss), beat the Jets, and beat Miami on a short week after that Buffalo game.  That's not very impressive.  Now they play Lamar on the road.  For the Bengals to win, they are going to have to score a lot of points.  Baltimore has the worst pass defense in the league, so Burrow has to revert back to 2021 Burrow if they're going to win.  I don't know what to make of that Bengals team.  Something is wrong there.  At this point, give me a Baltimore team that is just a few plays away from being 4-0.  I think they find a way after a tough loss last week.  Baltimore -3.5   

 

Season Record:  8-5