One of my favorite authors...

I was reading this when I remembered one of my favorite authors. Lewis Grizzard was a beloved writer for the Atlanta Journal and Constitution. I remember long summer evenings at my Grandmother's house, listening to my Grandfather read Lewis Grizzard's latest yarn about the University of Georgia, or Weyman C. Wannamaker a great American; to my Grandmother. She would throw her head back, slap her knee and laugh uncontrollably. Here is a sample of Lewis' humor.

Let's Put An End To Salad Bars


At long last, I am getting some assistance in my ongoing crusade against what I consider to be a dastardly affront to the American consumer, the salad bar.
In a recent edition of The Wall Street Journal, there was a front- page article indicating that not only are salad bars, in my opinion, an insult to the average American eat-outer (Who wants to go to the trouble and expense of eating out and then have to get up and make his or her own salad?), but they can be a health hazard.

The Journal points out that because salad bars usually feature a number of perishable foods and because you don't know who's been handling the food before you got up to make your salad, there is a chance you could wind up with food poisoning as a result of a visit to a salad bar.

The Journal also points out that people can sneeze on the lettuce, stick their fingers in the blue cheese dressing and drop a hair or two on the feastings as well. Fad got out of hand

There are even worse things that can happen. I quote from the Journal's article: "Jack Williams, a Los Angeles County health official, was piling lettuce on his plate one day when he saw a youngster pick his nose and then use the same hand to pluck a cherry tomato and fling it back."

Grr-oss.

What happened to the salad bar in this country is what happens to a great many fads. It got out of hand.

Wendy's has a salad bar, Burger King has a salad bar and it likely won't end there. I am awaiting the day chiropractors put a salad bar in their offices.

Picking up germs at a salad bar isn't the only risk the customer takes when he or she approaches a salad bar, either.

Some restaurants do put a "sneeze shield" on their salad bars, but the problem there is with a shield, you have to bend over and then reach way in the back, which is where most restaurants put all the good stuff, like the cherry tomatoes.

A person could severely injure his or her back, attempting to make a move only a contortionist could pull off without fear of winding up in traction. Come to think of it, perhaps chiropractors are the ones who have been behind this sal ad bar idea all along. Don't fix your own

Here is what we as Americans should do to get rid of salad bars forever:

When you have finished giving your order and the waitress or waiter says, "Help yourself to the salad bar," you reply, "Are you out of your mind? I worked all day. My wife/husband worked all day. We decided to treat ourselves by going out to dinner.

"We want to sit here at this table, have a couple of drinks, and then eat dinner.

"We don't want to have to mix our own drinks. We don't want to have to prepare our entree, and we do not - under any circumstance - want to get up and go to the trouble of fighting the mob at the salad bar.

"We demand someone prepare our salad for us. We will tell them exactly what we want on our salad, and we expect them to be brought here at our table promptly and we expect them to be served with a smile. Understand, bean-sprout-breath?"

If everyone were that forceful, we could rid our country of salad bars and make it a much better place in which to live, raise a family and eat out.

Move quickly before one more nose-picker has the opportunity to get his hands on our tomatoes.


Some of my favorite Grizzard quotes are:

Instead of getting married again, I'm going to find a woman I don't like and just give her a house.

Lewis’ advice to Atlantans in case of nuclear war: "If you live on the South side of Atlanta, get on I-75 and go south. If you live of the North side of Atlanta get on I-75 and go north. If you are a Yankee get on 285." (For those of you not familiar with Atlanta highways, I-285 is a loop around the city)

The public, more often than not, will forgive mistakes, but it will not forgive trying to wriggle and weasel out of one.