— M i a b i . F i l m s

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Tag "recount"

I bought an everything bagel for the first time in my life today. I could never understand these things. It always seemed like too much to put on a bagel. Too much… responsibility. Too many competing flavors. How can we as a society be so gluttonous as to request everything on our bagels? I would never presume that such a request could even be filled. Everything? Like.. with everything on it? Are you nuts? But there I was this morning, hungry and tired, ordering a toasted everything bagel with butter. What stunned me most was not that I didn’t get a muffin instead. It was that the lady behind the counter didn’t act bewildered by my order. Instead, she unthinkingly went about toasting the thing. Evidently, she’s been asked for everything before.

And you know what? This is not a tale of someone who had been missing out on something wonderful. No. I didn’t like my everything bagel. For starters, I was expecting everything on it. Much to my chagrin, all this thing had were sesame seeds, poppy seeds, salt, and garlic. When I order an everything bagel, that is what I expect. Furthermore, when you toast these things, the garlic gets burnt. So I’m eating a toasted “some things” bagel, with burned bits of garlic on it. Apparently, I hadn’t been missing much. It didn’t taste all that good. My reservations hadn’t been unfounded… and that made me feel good.

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A few years ago I was waiting tables in Short Hills, New Jersey. One afternoon I had the pleasure of serving Phil Rizzuto and his wife Cora. He lived in the area and I’d heard he’d come in before. All he wanted was a burger and ice cream. He explained to me that he loved our burgers. And prepared me way in advance that he’d be asking for the ice cream. I managed to get over being star struck long enough to tell him I was Italian and he asked where my family was from. We talked about it for a few moments, but as always in those situations, I had nothing good to say and managed to run and hide. He loved the hamburger and ice cream. When he asked for seconds on the ice cream I laughed and told him it was on the house. He was a handsome fella and Cora was very beautiful. A real gentleman.

Scooter passed away yesterday. It was a sad day as a Yankee fan, baseball fan, Italian, and human. But it was tough to really get upset about it. This guy was always enjoying himself and had an incredible sense of humor. He kept everything light. And he had one hell of a life.

This is as sentimental as Miabi Films will get. RIP Scooter.

If you have a half hour, you should really check out his Hall of Fame induction speech. It’s great.

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I’m 25 years old and evidently dont know how to take my own temperature. I’ve been sick for the past few days and finally decided to take my temperature this morning. The burning eyes, headaches, and running nose had gotten worse. I found the mercury thermometer in the medicine cabinet and placed it under my tongue. After approximately 7 minutes, I remove the glass baton from my mouth and twist until I can see the elusive silver line. It reads 106.7! Triple check: 106.7 At this point I’m scared shitless. How can a thermometer be broken? I don’t feel like I’m dying, but this little thing says I am. I don’t want to have to drive to the emergency room or hop in an ice bath. There must be something wrong. So I fire up webmd.com and get directions on how to read a thermometer.

If anyone wants to know the correct way to take an oral reading, it goes like this:

Shake the thermometer until it reads about 95
Make sure you can breathe through your nose
Place the thermometer under your tongue and close your mouth
Leave it there for 3 minutes.

Do you know how long it takes to shake down a thermometer that is at 106.7? I must have been shaking for a good 30-40 minutes. After doing it properly, my temp was a little over 100. Still a fever, but a lot less life-threatening. Phew.

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