On Saturday night we had our allotment of Fuller’s ESB, and were planning to cook burgers on the grill. I went out there and fired-up that bastard, and came back inside to (heh) prepare the meat. And when I returned to the deck, to begin the process, everything was shut-down. The grill was completely cold, and refused to re-light.
Grrr… It seemed like I’d only recently filled the propane tank, but Toney (who has some kind of crazy ability to remember when things actually happened) informed me it had been last summer, late in the season. If she’d put forth a little more effort, I feel confident she could have come up with the exact date…
So, we were out of gas, and I had several beers sloshing around in my great belly. No way was I driving somewhere to get the tank filled, and risking a stay at a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison.
I asked Toney if she wanted to cook the burgers indoors, and that never really works for us. They turn out tasteless, we make an ungodly mess, and the house becomes dominated by a heavy clinging funk. There wasn’t much enthusiasm for that particular solution…
So we decided to drag the charcoal grill out of the garage, and cook them old-school. But the charcoal was apparently past its expiration date, and wouldn’t light. It was like trying to make a pile of rocks catch fire.
What the hell, man?? If it hadn’t been for the beer, I probably would’ve flown off the handle, completely. But, under the circumstances, I was only waving my hands around, and making exaggerated WTF? gestures.
We finally opted to pool our cash, and do a quick run to the Burger King drive-thru, a couple of blocks from our house. So, we had corn on the cob, deviled eggs, baked beans… and Whoppers. And, to tell you the truth, is wasn’t half-bad.
But whenever we’re forced deal with such a situation, at least once per summer, I think about a guy I knew in California. The dude did everything by the book, and had a completely ordered life. You know the type…
His garage, I shit you not, had a painted floor, and little squares of carpet upon which the tires of his two anal-retentive showroom-spotless cars rested at night. And on the walls were photographs of various hotrods and whatnot – in frames. He had framed art in his garage!
His clothes always seemed painfully pressed and neat, and his house looked like a drawing, not something from the real world. It was amazing; every blade of grass on his lawn was exactly the same length, color, and thickness. Or so I suspect.
And he had two propane tanks for his grill – just in case.
Needless to say, I mocked the man behind his back. I called him Ol’ Two Tanks, and we made fun of his carpet squares on a semi-regular basis. I mean, seriously; I’m only flesh and blood here.
But every time I run out of gas, with a plate of meat in one hand, and the other whipping through my Peter Brady hair… that guy gets the last laugh. I can feel him sneering at me, from across the continent. The smug prick.
And that leads me to the Question of the Day: Ol’ Two Tanks is actually named Ed, and I was wondering… do you know any Eds? If so, tell us about him, won’t you? We need to get the lowdown on all these Eds, dammit.
And I’ll see ya next time.
Uhhhh, first?
One Ed from college. And I have a feeling there’s more lurking in my memory. I think everybody has a Big Ed in their life.
The early bird catches….the ass end of the worm.
I know an Ed. Ed Denver, one of the funniest guys I’ve ever met. College room mate, lifetime friend. Qweezy Mark once broke his pelvis in drunken shenanigans, forcing Ed to live with us for 5 days before he could travel.
Like Seinfeld, we were his butlers, but in our apartment.
Good morning!
Wow! Forfh! My sphincter flexes with delight!
An(d)yway…had a brother-in-law named Ed. As I used the word ‘had’, there’s not much reason for delving into that one. I worked with a guy named Ed, too. Great guy! He loves beer and gamblin’. Last I heard he had just moved back to Houston from Kansas City where he was a bartender. I’d move back to Houston, too, if I lived in Kansas City. Then there’s the Spin Doctors song ‘Biscuit Head’ where they’re singing about Biscuit Head Ed…I don’t know that guy, though.
Do Eddies, Edwards and Edwardos count?
Yea, after that same shit happened to me, I went and bought a second tank, too.
out, y’all
Only 8 hours to go until a 4 day weekend!!
I have to drive for 3.5 hours, work 15 minutes, drive 3.5 hours and go home! WOOOHOOO!!!
Everyone have a great weekend!
I guess I’m a “Semi-Ed”.
I got a little facinatated with the “survivalist” stuff during the Y2nothing part of the calendar. As long as you avoid actually becoming John Rambo and lean more toward semi-Edness; you’ll do OK.
1-Almost everything in its place.
2-Get more than one of things that will piss you off if you run out of them.
3-Keep a running to-do and to-get list.
4-Read the WVSR daily
These are the keys to a happy existance!!
Hmmmmm…apparently, delight had little to do with it.
late
TOP 10!
I know a few Ed’s, none of which are the sphincter lock you speak of.
My neighbor across the street has a garage floor you can eat off. His garage door faces my front yard and it’s always impeccable. He used it as extra space for a pool party he had last month and served the food from the garage. He sweeps/ hoses off hi driveway almost daily.
I feel like such a slob and thank God that my garage is an “end load” so it doesn’t face the street and the neighborhood is spared the horror.
I guess since I have an extra propane tank, that makes ME my Ed. I grill enough that I had to change the tank six times last year. So I think I should maybe get a pass. Honestly, I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s an enormous pain in the ass when the tank runs out after you put the food on. I mean, how many times does that have to happen to you to make you want an extra tank? The sunk cost is less than two CDs.
My neighbor has an extra tank too. I don’t think it’s that uncommon.
The rest of my life is not nearly that organized. Not because I don’t want it to be. Mostly due to laziness.
My all-time favorite Ed was my great-uncle, who wasn’t happy unless he was joking with or teasing someone. So funny, huge heart, and especially enjoyed telling you to “go fly a kite!”
Knew a couple Ed’s one a drunk one a dick comes to mind. I have 3 tanks cause we have on of those round heaters you sit around on the patio. Plus I grill almost daily in the summer. Got a buddy who fills them for next to nothing so that works for me.
How can you not get charcoal to burn? Please don’t tell me you tried to light it with one of those “safe the earth” Eurofaggot tin cylinders. Please say you didn’t.
Half o’ liter of lighter fluid and a butane torch my friend. Never fails.
Yeah, I walked back out on the deck with spatula in hand early last week just in time to hear the puh, puh, puh, puubbhhh, silence of the grill. Finished the burgers up inside. Every night it’s been the same thing…let’s have _____, ah, shit, no gas. The refill station is just down the street. Maybe soon we’ll remember. Extra tank…what a novel idea!
The only Ed I can think of is my Uncle. He’s a pretty cool guy. Really laid back. No two tank syndrome there.
Ed O’Brien. Dreamy Ed O’Brien.
We have a neighbor like that. Washes his convertible all the time whether it needs it or not. Like there is nothing in the world more important. Looks like he has the cleaners put a crease in his bermuda shorts. He is a chemical engineer and wouldn’t give you the time of day. Never done anything to warrant his distaste that I know of except possibly being a normal human being. I guess his dance card is full.
My ideas of order are of the rather low grade practical type. Before I think about doing something (like firing up the charcoal grill) I usually check to see if I need charcoal before making the patties. And I try to make the wife put things back where they were after using them just so when I go to use something I don’t have to waste 20 minutes looking for it. I don’t mind having to look for something once in a while but not every freaking time.
I am far from anal (I really don’t believe in washing cars more than maybe once in the life span of said car) but I do put a small snow shovel in the trunk of the car in the winter in case I get stuck somewhere. Just enough order and planning to make life work so it’s not a constant pain in the ass. And when I have screwed up I don’t waste much time with self-recriminations. Usually shrug my shoulders and try not to screw up again. If I screw up again I usually just repeat step one.
I have 2 propane tanks and I’m neurotically prepared for World War III (I probably have enough food stocked to last 3 months, minimum).
My name is Lindsay, but feel free to call me “Ed”.
i briefly dated an ed before leaving NY – he was rather anal, and way to into his german heritage. also pulled a serious asshole move at my going away party.
i also had a great uncle eddie who was off-the-boat german, and a really cool guy, not anal at all.
I can’t think of an Ed that I’ve known who hasn’t been a decent fella. Interesting. There might be something to the inherent OCD in Ed’s, though. My next door neighbor is an Ed and he weed whacks the perimeter of his yard, then mows twice, changing directions in the middle. It’s not a huge yard, so he might just be avoiding the missus, who knows?
I am firmly in the two tank camp, but this didn’t stop me from running out both tanks right in the middle of ribs fergawdssake. Had to finish them in the oven and they were as tender as old carpet.
@ kristen “also pulled a serious asshole move at my going away party”
Details. Can’t just leave a statement like that hanging.
Those tin “Eurofaggot” things work great, actually. We’re far more likely to have newspaper around the house than to remember where the damned lighter fluid is, and they really do light the coals perfectly in 20 minutes.
I once worked with an “Edwina” – she would scream at her husband for walking across the living room carpet because she carefully vacuumed a criss-cross pattern into it, a la Shea Stadium or something.
Good Morning Surf Reporters………..
I have an Uncle Ed. Good guy, a little odd.
Then we have a neighbor named Ed. He’s the neighbor that everyonw wants to have.
He’s always been friendly and easy going. His teenaged kids appeared popular but they weren’t idiots.
When I’ve needed a second set of hands in the midlle of a project he’ll come over and help out for a few minutes.
If he throws a party he invites the neighbors.
He walks his dog every morning and takes his other neighboors dog as often as not.
In the winter he clears his driveway and helps out a few people who really can’t shovel for themselves.
We had a houseguest lock herself out recently while her 2 year old slept upstairs. Ed came over and helped get her back in.
In an emergency he’ll come over and let the dogs out and keep an eye on the house.
All in all, Ed rocks.
He left this morning for the east coast. His kids live out there and his wife got a job to be near the soon to arrive Grandkids. My wife and I (and the rest of the neighbors) are going to miss Ed.
A guy I work with named Eddie, he talks reeaalll slow its annoying. So I call him Special Ed, behind his back of course. I wanna fast forward the conversations I have to have with him. Multi-tasking is not his thing either. He literally can only do one thing at a time, not two, not one and a half, only one. So never give him a big project and ask him to deviate anytime before its finished, cause that would require a re-wiring of his entire brain.
I am sorry to say Jeff that we are a two tank family, it is imperative to not heat up the house in the okie summers. It gets into the triple digits here with fierce regularity, and we also have a beer fetish requiring no re-travel after arrival (we live in the boonies 10 miles from town) due to the fact that we wanna avoid the celebrity of the local paper. No jailarity fo me.
My name is 2Tall…”Hi, 2Tall”…and I’m a two tanker. I really need two tanks…one for the grill and one for the turkey pot. You never know when the urge to fry some bird is going to overtake you. I suppose I could just switch one tank back and forth but what if I need to grill corn AND fry a succullent Butterball into crispy ambrosia AT THE SAME TIME?????…mmmm… fried turkey. Sorry…What would I do then???
There was a “Fast Eddy” in my high school who was a total Ed. He got the name because he was on the track team, but also had a certain skeezy aura around the ladies. In fact, he moved to Rhode Island after graduation, so I suspect he could be the real life inspiration for Glen Quagmire from Family Guy.
Also, if having charcoal red hot and ready to go in ten minutes with no yummy toluene aftertaste makes me a Eurofaggot, then just call me Dieter von Tastyburger!
Jeff, I fear I am one of those Ed’s. I like everything in it’s proper place. I have two tanks of propane for my grill and I have a charcoal back grill and a meat smoker. I keep plenty of charcoal and lighter fluid and I also keep a couple of those charcoal grill kits (the table top types) for picnics and emergencies. Does keeping my boat in dry storage during off season count? I don’t have a garage some it makes no sense to paint the driveway of put carpet squares under the tires. I’m not that anal! Thank God my name is not Ed.
I knew an Ed once … kinda quirky fellow. He was the typical knowitall IT type who ran a couple of web sites on the side … one was a Christian dating site, the other a porn site. Claimed to be raking in money on both – and lots of it came in to both sites from the same people.
Oh no, my damn fingers are going dyslexic again.
@ Door Quad – He must have been hooking up those lonely perverts with horny catholic girls.
My grandfather’s first name was Edward, nickname was Eddie. My dad’s name was Edward, nickname was Ned. My middle name is Edward. That’s way too many Eds in one family.
We used to have a next door neighbor Ed- He was a horrible old man who lived in his house for like 40 years before we got there. When we moved in, amongst other things, he told us what day we need to cut the grass (and Sundays were not allowed at all), what type of mail box we should have and even how to landscape our yard. Needless to say, we went totally opposite of what he said, and made sure to cut the grass every Sunday.
There were so many episodes with this guy that it basically became an all out feud with him. He even went as fas as to threaten bodily harm to my husband with a hammer because our dog crapped 4″ over the lot line.
Then came a cold night in November- He died- and the funeral was on my husbands birthday. What a great gift!!!
Check your Amazon link. I tried to order from it with no luck.
I have *three* propane tanks…really
-Hal
Man!
Jeff you are freaking me out with these early then late and even Sunday updates! You are disrupting my whole eco system and keeping me from being regular!
Jeff,
As I recall… That World Party album was a very popular selection for in-store play.
I have a great-uncle Ed, but we call him Uncle Bo (Have no idea why). Cool dude.
Happy Thursday, Surfers!
I knew a gu they called 2Tall and his real name was Ed.
guy
My name’s not Ed…at least I don’t think so…
I know an Ed. He was a preacher at the church my parents forced me to attend when I was a child. He cheated on his wife with one of the ladies in the choir. I remember him giving a speech about how sorry he was. His wife forgave him, the congregation did not.
There is another Ed in my life also. He is getting ready to buy the company that I work for. He’s a Canadian version Ed.
Eh?
A guy named Ed married an ex girlfriend of mine. Even after I called him and warned him not to. It wasn’t like “if you marry her I’ll kill you” but more like “if you marry her your life will be miserable.”
Well, sure enough two years later they divorced when she skipped town. Poor bastard.
My Dad’s name is Ed. When I was a kid he was a hot shot baseball player, a real heavy hitter. He was also cuesed with kind of short legs so they called him Fast Eddie when he was rounding the bases. I think he hit so hard so he wouldn’t have to run so fast.
My Dad is an easy going guy who likes to drink vodka and gamble and golf. When I was a kid he always made a point of visiting his “buddies”, old men that he knew who’s wives had died and needed a little help. My Dad would check in on them on a Saturday, bring some groceries and have a drink or two with the old guys. When they passed away he would make sure they had a proper funeral. He just did it to be kind, he’s always said he likes old people, finds them interesting.
I am a Daddy’s girl and I loves me some Ed.
“cursed” not cuesed
*oops*
There was a “Crazy Ed” in the town where I grew up. One time I saw him sitting on the sidewalk at the pharmacy and he was masturbating. In broad daylight. He kept nodding his head and saying, “That’s right! That’s right!” It was the damndest thing I’ve ever seen. Not long after that he was taken away “for help” and I never saw him again.
“That’s right! That’s right!”
I know an Edd, and no, that’s not a typo. He spells it with two d’s, just like his granddaddy did. He says things like “damn skippy” and “woo-pow”. He is one crazy cracker.
The Evil Twin feels that propane grills are suspicious and probably dangerous, so he only uses charcoal. It’s the only way to go, I think. Nom nom nom.
I used to work for an “ED”
I will have to agree with you that “ED’S” are strange.
This particular Ed was hard to read… at first.
He was always pretty much laid back, then there were the times he wanted you to change something either about yourself or the work you were doing and here was his approach…”I don’t know about some people, if somebody would just check the product before it was put in the box we wouldn’t have this problem.” or “Someone needs to sweep this floor.” or “I don’t know why somebody didn’t count these before putting them on the shelf.” All of these things were MY job and he was saying this stuff to ME!
So one day when he was done with one of his “SOMEBODY” statements, I looked right at him and said “YOU MEAN ME!!!!! I’m “somebody” It is my job to check the things before they go into the boxes, it is my job to sweep up my area (even though most times I didn’t make the mess), it is my job to count product before putting it on the shelf why do you keep saying “somebody”? He just looked at me for a moment then went back to his office.
TOOL!
Lump Hardwood Charcoal- The only way to grill- NEVER gas.
We are a two-tank family. Mostly because we have a grill and a propane smoker. But that extra tank comes in very handy on a dark, rainy Sunday nite when the steaks are ready to go and tank #1 runs dry. Does anyone use one of those things that go on the side of the tank to tell you how much you have left in the tank? Wonder if they work…
I have a cousin Ed. WONDERFUL guy. He’s Superintendent of Schools in Gilbert county.
My house isn’t overly organized, but I’ve got 2 tanks.
When do you fill your tank if you only have one?
You don’t do it until it runs out, which only happens when you’re cooking, and usually not when you’re done cooking….
Common sense, no?