Upgrade

Upgrade! I parlayed my ten dollar ticket into a courtside seat for last night's Texas-Pittsburgh game at Sprint Center. A kind friend who won a text message contest made it possible. He didn't want to stick around after his beloved Iowa fell to Wichita State. The upgrade allowed me a close look at Dexter Pittman, one of my favorite collegiate players. He once weighed 366. Look at him now.

A Small Concession

I'm the type of guy who slips a granola bar into his pocket when he goes to a concert. I didn't buy a single beer at a baseball game in 2009. Concessions are expensive and I'm cheap. That's why the bargain-priced QuickTrip inside The Sprint Center is the only place at any Kansas City concert or sporting venue where I don't hesitate to purchase a snack or beverage. Zarda barbecue has an outlet at the new Independence Events Center. This modest sandwich goes for eight dollars. It's good. But not that good.

Victory Is Mine

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls... I'm pleased to present evidence of the elusive white squirrel. This cheeky little rodent has been taunting me for months. I knew that it would eventually succumb to the temptation of moldering peanut butter. For the record, I did not exterminate the pest. It's someone else's problem now.

Oh Deer

Even though they denied my application to become their designated deer killer, lately I've been spending a lot of time exploring Johnson County's network of parks. My latest expedition was to the Ernie Miller Park and Nature Center near the southwestern corner of the county. The charming dirt trail would be more bucolic if the constant roar of traffic from K7 didn't drown out the sound of frightened animals. The site also features a building that hosted children's birthday parties and an art show last Saturday. No deer were spotted.

Everyone Knows It's Windy

What is that? Upon spotting an odd new object rising above the intersection of 435 and Roe yesterday, I immediately whipped past the Sonic Drive-In, parked at the Settle Inn and ran to the base of the compelling silver tower. It looked like a newfangled type of wind turbine. Sure enough, general contractor firm A.L. Huber erected the power generator on November 10. Here are details. It seems to run silently and somehow avoids shredding birds. I want one.

Get Up Stand Up

Aren't these kids learning anything in school? I recently checked on a crowd of angry students protesting the firing of an outstanding teacher by gutless administrators an unpopular personnel decision. (Details are here.) No bricks were thrown. No profanities were chanted. No signs were waved. Kids today...

Pitiful Pepper Picking

As my ongoing efforts have failed to adequately quell my squirrel problem, I was forced to take extreme gardening measures last spring. That's right, I sprung for the as-seen-on-TV hanging planters. Shockingly, they didn't work. The tomatoes grew massive vines but never produced fruit. And only now, six months after it was planted, is my pepper crop offering a few tasty nibbles.

Yeah, But Where Is It?

I celebrated a big day last week with an extravagant lunch at 1924 Main. The restaurant's kitchen gave me additional cause for exuberance. The 3-for-$15 menu provided my single best meal of 2009. Fried green beans and hominy! Mussels! Rock shrimp soup! Pulled pork sandwich! And although it's an overtly masculine room, it was nice to be surrounded by attractive women in business suits. I'm already pinching pennies to save up for a return visit.

O' My

As I devoured my hearty but somewhat bland Irish pot roast in the recently transplanted O'Neill's Restaurant & Bar at the Ranch Mart Shopping Center, I filled my dining companion in on my sure-fire scheme. "Look!" I ranted. "This joint is packed. Any restaurant would succeed in this neighborhood. All we have to do is hire a friendly and efficient staff. Owning a restaurant here would be like having a license to print money!" My request for a loan was denied. (Emaw offers additional details on changes in our goldmine of a neighborhood here.)

Prairie Village Pyramid

It's finally come to this. I now get my kicks by stacking bags of leaves into six-foot-tall pyramids. The tangible accomplishment provides me with an inordinate amount of satisfaction. Hey, you kids! Get off my lawn!

Never Ever Change

I felt as if I'd fallen down a ravioli-infested rabbit hole the moment I entered Anthony's the other night. Much to the amusement of the packed room, a jolly man with a microphone serenaded me with a rendition "The Way You Look Tonight." Very funny. Even more surreal was the sudden realization that the joint hadn't changed a bit since I'd last dined there in the late '80s. Anthony's redefines old school. They've retained that breathless charm.