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I was raised on a rural Iowa farm. This meant that my childhood revolved around food. (It also revolved around walking beans, Atari, and the local Pizza Hut jukebox.) Growing up, we didn’t have this wimpy “breakfast, lunch, dinner” stuff we see nowadays. Instead we ate FIVE meals a day plus a nighttime snack. This equated to breakfast, lunch, dinner, lunch, supper, and a big bowl of ice cream before bed. For you city slickers (or Weight Watcher members), this concept may exceed your comprehension and alloted caloric points . But to break it down… Breakfast was a hot meal consisting of eggs and some sort of fatty meat. Then came a mid-morning lunch of cold meat sandwiches, homemade cookies and coffee. At noon, dinner was a hot meal with meat, potatoes, and bread & butter sandwiches. Repeat with another mid-afternoon lunch of cold meat sandwiches, homemade cookies and coffee.…

There is a practice known as “bar hopping” that refers to visiting more than one bar in a single evening. This nomadic lifestyle is most common in college students on spring break. As I am seasoned well beyond the ramen noodle & wet t-shirt years, I prescribe to the more sedentary “bar plopping,” which is the nightlife equivalent to nesting. I find a place I like, plop myself down and remain there all night. I honestly do not know how loyal patronage can be a bad thing. But evidently it labels me as “boring” and “lame.” SO on a recent trip to Cedar Rapids, I decided to forego my stationary habits and just go with the flow. (My anxiety level went up just writing that statement.) Now if you recall, a previous Iowa Roadie blog described an afternoon luau at “Just Coz Tavern” in Cedar Rapids. Remember…potluck by the pool…

My husband says I don’t like surprises. He claims that I lack spontaneity, and that I am a control freak. Now I would like to feign horror and be offended by such preposterous claims. (Whatever happened to “if you can’t say anything nice?”) Just because he has caught me in the act of unwrapping Christmas presents when I can’t stand the suspense, or that my vacation itineraries leave little room for sleep… Should that label me as “obsessive compulsive?” Does he not value the time-honored Boy Scout motto, “Be Prepared?” So to counteract such negativity, I decided to throw caution to the wind on a recent trip to Cedar Rapids and visit somewhere not on the list of dives I had meticulously researched and mapped out (color coded and in alphabetical order). It was as if the “Just Coz Tavern” hijacked my sound judgment by coaxing me in with some…

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