McDonalds gift certificates. Hmmm. I had two great aunts who would give me
and my three brothers McDonalds gift certificates each Christmas. As kids we
never ate out -- keeping shoes on four boys apparently burnt up most of
Dad's paycheck -- so a trip to Micky Dees was pretty special. Now, the only
time I'll eat there is when I'm a bit bound up -- nothing a good Egg McMuff,
a hash brown and a black coffee won't cure.

-----Original Message-----
From: Ken Follett [mailto:[log in to unmask]]
Sent: Thursday, March 09, 2000 12:16 PM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: COD bets


In a message dated 3/9/00 10:56:48 AM Eastern Standard Time,
[log in to unmask]
writes:

> That's why I'm not a gambling man...as soon as the money's on the table,
it
>  used to be mine.

Dan,

Same thing happened to me at the Sonnyborn pheasant hunt. When asked how I
was doing at the game I replied, "Depends on what game you are playing."
Poker can be like playing golf and losing to your best customer. I tend to
play my best games off the table. At least with Sonnyborn we got to see
Squirrel Brains, which was about as pleasant to me as eating scrapple, which
my grandmother from Upstate NY cabbage & farm country introduced me to. She
was a lousy cook and favored TV dinners, which my brother thought we special
and always asked for. There is hope, I suppose, for scrapple in my life. My
grandfather, the master finish carpenter, always was excited to get a
McDonald's gift certificate for Xmas. No lie.

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