It takes a lot of work to keep my body in shape (round). It’s something I take a great deal of pride in. It requires dedication, constant vigilance, a willingness to sacrifice, and a nose for good food…
About 50 or so years ago, my father was in the process of being discharged from the Army, after spending a couple of years in the tropical outpost of Fairbanks, Alaska. He was spending his last few weeks as a G.I. stationed at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs.
One evening his buddy suggested they go out for a burger, he knew a great place not too far from the base. They ended up at Conway’s Red Top, home of the Giant Hamburger. Oh man, am I ever glad about that…
For about half of a century now, my family has made pilgrimages to Colorado Spring to “go get a Red Top.”
Conway’s Red Top
Recently, Mrs. R and I decided to exactly that, and headed south for a burger. Now these Red Tops really are giant, probably about 8 inches or so diameter (the burgers may actually be a little smaller than that, since I have been accused of having some difficulty in estimating sizes…) and they are delicious. They are made fresh right at the restaurant, it’s not fast food, and it is definitely worth the wait. I like mine with fries and a chocolate milkshake. Give them a try sometime.
After lunch we headed to Manitou Springs. There are some funky shops there, many of which are housed in some beautiful historic buildings. I think a lot of the businesses are run by hippies who couldn’t afford the rent in Boulder, or Berkeley, for that matter. It’s worth the walk around town just to appreciate the architecture.
On our way back, we were headed east, toward downtown, when like an oasis in desert, a Dunkin’ Donuts store appeared on my left. Mrs. R screamed out “IT’S DUNKIN’DONUTS!” and we knew what we had to do, it was something that we had been training for for a long time.
I slammed on the brakes and put Big Mo into a hard left turn, doing a 180 in the middle of the street and power sliding perfectly into a perfect parallel parking spot in front of the store, facing west. We synchronized our watches, then I looked at Mrs. R and shouted “GO! GO! GO!”
The operation unfolded with military precision…
Mrs. R jumped out of Mo, fell to the ground and feigned a sprained ankle. This diverted the attention of about 10 of the dozen or so of Colorado Springs finest who were waiting in line. When she demurely batted her eyes, grabbed her ankle, and said “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers,” I knew we would succeed. The chivalrous officers literally fell all over themselves trying to help the damsel in distress.
As all of this was unfolding, I ran up to the store, put a head fake on one officer, used my ol’ drop step move on the other, and found myself at the front of the line where I promptly purchased 14 dozen donuts, and a pint of skim milk.
Mrs. R extricated herself from the pile of 10, I ran back to Mo with the goods, and we high-tailed it home. Actually, at my age, it’s more like “low-tailing…”
About 50 or so years ago, my father was in the process of being discharged from the Army, after spending a couple of years in the tropical outpost of Fairbanks, Alaska. He was spending his last few weeks as a G.I. stationed at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs.
One evening his buddy suggested they go out for a burger, he knew a great place not too far from the base. They ended up at Conway’s Red Top, home of the Giant Hamburger. Oh man, am I ever glad about that…
For about half of a century now, my family has made pilgrimages to Colorado Spring to “go get a Red Top.”
Conway’s Red Top
Recently, Mrs. R and I decided to exactly that, and headed south for a burger. Now these Red Tops really are giant, probably about 8 inches or so diameter (the burgers may actually be a little smaller than that, since I have been accused of having some difficulty in estimating sizes…) and they are delicious. They are made fresh right at the restaurant, it’s not fast food, and it is definitely worth the wait. I like mine with fries and a chocolate milkshake. Give them a try sometime.
After lunch we headed to Manitou Springs. There are some funky shops there, many of which are housed in some beautiful historic buildings. I think a lot of the businesses are run by hippies who couldn’t afford the rent in Boulder, or Berkeley, for that matter. It’s worth the walk around town just to appreciate the architecture.
On our way back, we were headed east, toward downtown, when like an oasis in desert, a Dunkin’ Donuts store appeared on my left. Mrs. R screamed out “IT’S DUNKIN’DONUTS!” and we knew what we had to do, it was something that we had been training for for a long time.
I slammed on the brakes and put Big Mo into a hard left turn, doing a 180 in the middle of the street and power sliding perfectly into a perfect parallel parking spot in front of the store, facing west. We synchronized our watches, then I looked at Mrs. R and shouted “GO! GO! GO!”
The operation unfolded with military precision…
Mrs. R jumped out of Mo, fell to the ground and feigned a sprained ankle. This diverted the attention of about 10 of the dozen or so of Colorado Springs finest who were waiting in line. When she demurely batted her eyes, grabbed her ankle, and said “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers,” I knew we would succeed. The chivalrous officers literally fell all over themselves trying to help the damsel in distress.
As all of this was unfolding, I ran up to the store, put a head fake on one officer, used my ol’ drop step move on the other, and found myself at the front of the line where I promptly purchased 14 dozen donuts, and a pint of skim milk.
Mrs. R extricated herself from the pile of 10, I ran back to Mo with the goods, and we high-tailed it home. Actually, at my age, it’s more like “low-tailing…”
And after fourteen dozen donuts, well, let’s just say my wagon is draggin’.
