DASHING AROUND

November 25, 2013 by  
Filed under Blogs, Hot Button / Lynn Ashby

 

 

THE DRIVEWAY – Slowly, slowly backing out from the garage. I’ve done this a thousand times over the years, neatly threading my way backwards between the brick wall of my house and my next-door-neighbors’ air conditioner. But this time my retreat is different. I have a new car, a really beautiful machine — sleek, tech-heavy, painted battleship gray, even the turret and anchors. But this car is smarter than me. It has a rearview mirror which seems to be patterned after NORAD. When I veer off course a buzzer sounds. On each side of the car is another rearview mirror that blinks orange when an 18-wheeler tries to sneak into my blind spots and turn me into road kill. Oh, a warning bell goes off, too. Backing out, I sound like the neighborhood ice cream truck.

But the peace of resistance is this TV screen in the middle of my dashboard. It’s called a Reverse Splat-Prevent Gizmo, and lights up when I put the car in reverse. Little white lines on the screen make it look like down time at the Wimbledon center court. The lines show how close I am to buying my neighbors a new a/c. With all these distractions it’s hard to activate my training wheels.

Here on the dash is the little drawer to hold coins so the valet parkers can steal them. This is my CD player where I can put in six CDs and listen to Willie Nelson all the way to the orphan auction. Odd, but the slot rejects my second CD. It only holds a single disk? Now where is the overhead holder for my glasses? This car doesn’t have one, but I have a prescription front windshield.

Somewhere hiding along here is my ashtray. Guess what. This line of cars no longer has an ashtray or cigarette lighter. The surgeon general has gone too far. Now I’ll have to toss my cigar butts out the window into passing convertibles. And where am I going to put my used chewing gum? I’ll just do as I did my old car. Stick it on the top side of the sun visor. (Speaking of old cars, if you’re looking for a good used car and  come across a 1980 Yugo with 250,000 miles on it, once flooded out by  Hurricane Ike and runner-up in the Lone Star Demolition Derby, it’s a steal — literally.)

“Turn right in one mile,” says this cozy female voice. I’d love to, cozy female voice, but I’d be late for my according lesson. Wait, who’s talking? “I am your Bipolar Directional Disorientor,” says the voice. “Just punch in the address of your next destination and I’ll tell you how to get there.” How do I do that? “There is a keyboard at the bottom of the screen, knuckle-dragger. Let’s say you want to go to the nearest barber shop. Take a left out of the driveway.” I don’t want to go to the barber. It’s almost time for my accordion lesson. Today it’s polka tangos.

New vehicles are judged by their number of cup holders. An SUV like the Dodge Annihilator or the Ford Intimidator can have as many as 10 or 12. This is only a four-cup car, but it has an icemaker somewhere. Notice that new car smell. It’s a fragrance called Freshly Killed Money. Elsewhere in the car, my trunk is big enough to carry three former members of the Witness Protection Program. Currently it holds my three-volume owner’s manual and a first aid kit in case my warning beepers fail. The trunk lid can be removed to make room for a tail gunner.

“Hi, this is Jason,” says a voice from somewhere. “Your car also comes with BluFang. I am real live person who tells you how to get wherever you wish to go. Let’s say you want to go to jail. Just….” Jason, can’t you see I’m busy? Yes, you probably can. This row of buttons is for the radio. To select a station I use a mouse. I click on an icon. “Welcome to Complicated Satellite Radio, which gives you 3,477 stations. You have chosen Radio Riga – Latvian folksongs.” My 12 speakers suddenly blare out “Death to the Russians March.”

I am telling you all of this because you, too, may need a new car after 250,000 miles or the repo man pays a visit, whichever comes first. But today, rather like my TV cable company bundles up 223 channels of which I only watch a dozen, cars are bundled, too. I have just bought more than I need or can comprehend. The printout on this model runs three pages, single-spaced, listing bells and whistles which are included without a choice, like a steering wheel warmer. Why? I have a glove compartment for gloves. I also get top lights, back lights, and, of course, bells and whistles.

The print-out shows I am spending almost 2K for “state and local taxes.” No wonder Texas don’t have income taxes. They are unnecessary to pay for Rick Perry’s traveling security detail. Above the front window is a panic button. I punch it so the cops or more probably the NSA knows exactly where I am and sends help — or maybe a drone. No where here is a fuzz buster announcing that I am about to get a speeding ticket, but on top of the car in back is a little fin which is an antenna that beeps when a low-hung overhead has just scraped it off. OK, I am now almost out the driveway and into the street in only 15 minutes. “I did it on my own,” I shout. “I overcame all these improvements!”

“I heard that,” says Jason.

“Turn right at the next election,” says the cozy female voice.

There are so many gadgets and buttons on this dash it looks like the control panel of an F-16. This last button says Eject. If I just press it….

 

Ashby’s hot button is ashby2@comcast.net

 

 

 

 

CEREAL KILLERS

November 18, 2013 by  
Filed under Blogs

THE GROCERY STORE — Only two products can fill an entire aisle: beer and breakfast cereals. I gave up counting the various brands of the latter: Raisin Nut Bran, Cinnamon Crunch, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, 12 different kinds of Cheerios, Snap, Crackle and Pop. The average American spends about 13 minutes a day preparing and eating breakfast, and a lot of that is cereal. Do you eat cereal for breakfast, or feed it to your children, spouse, homeless former Astro? Quite probably you do. According to IRI Builders Panel data, the breakfast cereal market has a cold cereal household penetration rate of 91.6 percent and a hot cereal household penetration rate of 61.8 percent. That’s pretty penetrating.

Here’s an interesting point: cereal is relatively cheap, so when the Great Recession hit America, cereal sales went up. Now that the economy is getting better, at least for hedge fund managers and energy company CEOs, more people are returning to breakfast at cafes and to-go spots, choosing eggs benedict and bacon-with-crab-cakes. So cereal sales are stagnant, and the industry is turning some of its ads towards adults.

As you probably know, James Caleb Jackson is considered the father of flakes. He hatched a cereal called granula in 1863. It was dreadful and had to be soaked in water overnight to be soft enough to chew. George H. Hoyt came up with Wheatena about 1879 and put it in boxes, which made his product a lot easier to handle than shoveling it out of a bag. Cornflakes were created by soon-to-be-rich John Harvey Kellogg, a physician, who worked at a sanitarium — a health spa not an asylum. It was run by Seventh Day Adventists at their headquarters in Battle Creek, Mich. which ever since has been “The Cereal Capitol of the World.” The locals preferred Capitol to Capital and the Battle Creek City Council even voted to make that word official. Eventually there were 40 cereal companies in the town.

Charles Post developed Grape-Nut Flakes and Post Toasties in Battle Creek, that made him millions. Post, who had dabbled in Fort Worth real estate, then bought 225,000 acres on the Texas plains and set up a complete town called Post City, now Post, Texas. It was so dry out there that he spent thousands trying to create rain by firing four-pound dynamite charges off the Caprock every four minutes over several hours. It didn’t work. By 1924 General Mills entered the picture with Wheaties. These are still the giants of the industry.

Here is yet another shelf of cereals. Not only do they beckon children with pretty packages but they teach spelling, too: Froot Loops, Rice Krispies, Choc Fruity Dyno-Bites, Krave, Craklin’, Chex and Trix. This box teaches both bad spelling and breaking the law: Cap’n Crunch. His uniform shows him to be a fraud. Crunch is a commander, not a captain. The Wall Street Journal in jest reported that the U.S. Navy had no record of Crunch and that the NCIS was investigating him for impersonating a naval officer. These are just the cold cereals. Across the aisle are just as many cereals to be served hot: Cream of Wheat, Quaker Oats, etc.

Almost from the beginning the industry advertised heavily. Today the breakfast cereal ads are second only to automobiles. Originally the cereal makers pitched to adults, then to children and now, as we see above, it is turning some effort towards adults again. That explains Bear Naked Fit. But kids are still a major market. Have you ever checked children’s TV shows on weekend mornings? Tony the Tiger rules. In 2007, the average American child viewed 757 cereal ads on TV, and 98 percent of these ads promoted unhealthy cereals that would be banned from advertising to children in Britain. Some cereal companies put their brands on the bottom shelves in grocery stores so that small children can spot them. “Mommy, please can we get Choc-Sugar Honey Tarts and Tooth Fairy Decay?”

Incidentally, one story had it that Kellogg was in the horse feed business and when Americans turned to cars, he changed his horse feed to breakfast cereal, but apparently that was just an ugly rumor started by horses. Also, some economists have determined that the breakfast industry spends more on the cereal box than its contents. The manufacturers do spend a lot on paper, ink and paying sports stars who dominate the packaging (“Breakfast of Champions”), but the continuing change in international prices in corn, wheat, rice and sugar — lots of sugar — plus paying the peasants in Ethiopia to harvest them, makes it hard to compare. Still, those are good stories.

Every now and then some goody two-shoes points out that our kids are eating a bunch of junk, but nothing happens. A few years ago there was even a Congressional hearing on the nutritional value of breakfast cereals. An industry nutritionist testified that if you take a bowl of cereal and add milk or cream, some bananas, strawberries, maybe grapes, that was a most nutritional meal. “What if you just consumed the milk and fruit?” a nosey Congressman asked. There was a long silence and I don’t remember the reply, possibly because there wasn’t one.

How profitable is the breakfast cereal biz? One study noted about the early days:  “Combining cheap grains with cheap sugar was like printing money. A 75-cent bushel of grain could now yield 12 dollars worth of cereal.” Today in this country cereals are about $11.5 billion-a-year industry. To keep the bowls filled, the industry is adept at changing. Fiber used to be the fad. Americans couldn’t get enough fiber, so Tony the Tiger changed his stripes. Brans were good. Then the shelves got organic. Next healthy food came into vogue. Guess what?  Wheat and sugar are healthy. Something called Kashi is a hot cold cereal. To combat the to-go craze, now some cereals are to-go. Pass the eggs benedict.

 

Ashby is bowled over at ashby2@comcast.net

 

CEREAL KILLERS

November 18, 2013 by  
Filed under Blogs, Hot Button / Lynn Ashby

THE GROCERY STORE — Only two products can fill an entire aisle: beer and breakfast cereals. I gave up counting the various brands of the latter: Raisin Nut Bran, Cinnamon Crunch, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, 12 different kinds of Cheerios, Snap, Crackle and Pop. The average American spends about 13 minutes a day preparing and eating breakfast, and a lot of that is cereal. Do you eat cereal for breakfast, or feed it to your children, spouse, homeless former Astro? Quite probably you do. According to IRI Builders Panel data, the breakfast cereal market has a cold cereal household penetration rate of 91.6 percent and a hot cereal household penetration rate of 61.8 percent. That’s pretty penetrating.
Here’s an interesting point: cereal is relatively cheap, so when the Great Recession hit America, cereal sales went up. Now that the economy is getting better, at least for hedge fund managers and energy company CEOs, more people are returning to breakfast at cafes and to-go spots, choosing eggs benedict and bacon-with-crab-cakes. So cereal sales are stagnant, and the industry is turning some of its ads towards adults.
As you probably know, James Caleb Jackson is considered the father of flakes. He hatched a cereal called granula in 1863. It was dreadful and had to be soaked in water overnight to be soft enough to chew. George H. Hoyt came up with Wheatena about 1879 and put it in boxes, which made his product a lot easier to handle than shoveling it out of a bag. Cornflakes were created by soon-to-be-rich John Harvey Kellogg, a physician, who worked at a sanitarium — a health spa not an asylum. It was run by Seventh Day Adventists at their headquarters in Battle Creek, Mich. which ever since has been “The Cereal Capitol of the World.” The locals preferred Capitol to Capital and the Battle Creek City Council even voted to make that word official. Eventually there were 40 cereal companies in the town.
Charles Post developed Grape-Nut Flakes and Post Toasties in Battle Creek, that made him millions. Post, who had dabbled in Fort Worth real estate, then bought 225,000 acres on the Texas plains and set up a complete town called Post City, now Post, Texas. It was so dry out there that he spent thousands trying to create rain by firing four-pound dynamite charges off the Caprock every four minutes over several hours. It didn’t work. By 1924 General Mills entered the picture with Wheaties. These are still the giants of the industry.
Here is yet another shelf of cereals. Not only do they beckon children with pretty packages but they teach spelling, too: Froot Loops, Rice Krispies, Choc Fruity Dyno-Bites, Krave, Craklin’, Chex and Trix. This box teaches both bad spelling and breaking the law: Cap’n Crunch. His uniform shows him to be a fraud. Crunch is a commander, not a captain. The Wall Street Journal in jest reported that the U.S. Navy had no record of Crunch and that the NCIS was investigating him for impersonating a naval officer. These are just the cold cereals. Across the aisle are just as many cereals to be served hot: Cream of Wheat, Quaker Oats, etc.
Almost from the beginning the industry advertised heavily. Today the breakfast cereal ads are second only to automobiles. Originally the cereal makers pitched to adults, then to children and now, as we see above, it is turning some effort towards adults again. That explains Bear Naked Fit. But kids are still a major market. Have you ever checked children’s TV shows on weekend mornings? Tony the Tiger rules. In 2007, the average American child viewed 757 cereal ads on TV, and 98 percent of these ads promoted unhealthy cereals that would be banned from advertising to children in Britain. Some cereal companies put their brands on the bottom shelves in grocery stores so that small children can spot them. “Mommy, please can we get Choc-Sugar Honey Tarts and Tooth Fairy Decay?”
Incidentally, one story had it that Kellogg was in the horse feed business and when Americans turned to cars, he changed his horse feed to breakfast cereal, but apparently that was just an ugly rumor started by horses. Also, some economists have determined that the breakfast industry spends more on the cereal box than its contents. The manufacturers do spend a lot on paper, ink and paying sports stars who dominate the packaging (“Breakfast of Champions”), but the continuing change in international prices in corn, wheat, rice and sugar — lots of sugar — plus paying the peasants in Ethiopia to harvest them, makes it hard to compare. Still, those are good stories.
Every now and then some goody two-shoes points out that our kids are eating a bunch of junk, but nothing happens. A few years ago there was even a Congressional hearing on the nutritional value of breakfast cereals. An industry nutritionist testified that if you take a bowl of cereal and add milk or cream, some bananas, strawberries, maybe grapes, that was a most nutritional meal. “What if you just consumed the milk and fruit?” a nosey Congressman asked. There was a long silence and I don’t remember the reply, possibly because there wasn’t one.
How profitable is the breakfast cereal biz? One study noted about the early days: “Combining cheap grains with cheap sugar was like printing money. A 75-cent bushel of grain could now yield 12 dollars worth of cereal.” Today in this country cereals are about $11.5 billion-a-year industry. To keep the bowls filled, the industry is adept at changing. Fiber used to be the fad. Americans couldn’t get enough fiber, so Tony the Tiger changed his stripes. Brans were good. Then the shelves got organic. Next healthy food came into vogue. Guess what? Wheat and sugar are healthy. Something called Kashi is a hot cold cereal. To combat the to-go craze, now some cereals are to-go. Pass the eggs benedict.

Ashby is bowled over at ashby2@comcast.net

TWO ON THE ISLE

November 11, 2013 by  
Filed under Blogs, Hot Button / Lynn Ashby

GALVESTON — In the 1880 U.S. Census, Galveston had the largest population of any city in Texas. Today it is not even the largest city in Galveston County. League City is bigger. My wife and I came to the island to eat our way through most menus, and are not disappointed. Why here and why now? This is the time of year to visit Galveston: mid-week, after summer and school is in session, vacationers have gone back to League City. (Last year there were 5.7 million visitors who left $654.6 million behind). Hotel rates are lower and you can easily get a table at any restaurant.

This is Fisherman’s Wharf, with a covered dining room sticking out into the water. On one side is the Elissa, a former Greek smuggling ship, now the official tall ship  of Texas. On the other side of the room floats the Boardwalk, a 147-foot-long yacht owned by Tilman Fertitta (I keep calling him Tilman Fajita), the super restaurateur. I am told his yacht cost $46 million. Five crewmen are always on board, 12 when underway. Fajita must have big tippers.

Driving on Seawall Blvd., the main drag along the beach, other motorists keep honking at me. That’s because there are no lane stripes and it’s impossible to tell which lane I’m in, so I just keep swerving.

Gaido’s: This restaurant has been around since 1911. In the back is the Pelican Club. Same kitchen, different bar. My father-in-law was a charter member, along with Jean Lafitte. Membership can be passed down. Today my son-in-law is the family member. I’ll see if I can put the bill on his tab. You know how waiters come to your table and say, “Good evening. My name is Lance and I’ll be taking care of you.” My waiter’ name is Armageddon. Is that like having a bartender named Borgia? “Let me just add this secret sauce.” After Ike swept through, knocking out the power to Gaido’s refrigerators, the staff set up tables on the parking lot and invited all the exhausted and hungry first responders for a meal. Long tables were set up and cooks, waiters and busboys in stiff whites, doled out what must have been a fantastic free meal. I hope insurance covered the cost.

In the wake of Hurricane Sandy, a New Jersey TV reporter said, “This is the worst national disaster ever to hit America.” Silly provincial. Never mind Katrina, what about the Galveston Storm of 1900? Some say 5,000 people were killed. Others say 6,000.  Galveston never fully recovered and Houston took over.

The weather is all-important when eating your way through this town. A slightly cool breeze, blue skies, outdoor cafes. So it is a perfect noon here on Postoffice Street (Postoffice is one word). A few years ago you wouldn’t come near this street after dark. Now, like Austin’s East Sixth Street, the place has been transformed, complete with shops, sidewalk cafes, bars and shops with sidewalk cafes and bars. It’s like New Orleans’ French Quarter without some drunk throwing up on your shoes. This is Gumbo’s, where I’ve been told to go for gumbo. We order a cup to split. The waitress brings out two large bowls, which is a cup to split at Gumbo’s. Quite good.

Galveston had Texas’ first structure to use electric lighting, the first telephone and the first baseball game. The Galveston Daily News, founded in 1842, is the state’s oldest continuing daily newspaper. People were sitting in these cafes reading the newspapers while sipping wine when, not too far west, other Texans were getting scalped.

On to our second lunch, at Benno’s on the seawall. Barbequed crabs (this is crab season). Two cabernets arrive in full beer steins. Galvestonians don’t chow down in a small way. The place to be on Sundays noonish is the Hotel Galvez’s brunch. One price, all you can eat plus free champagne, mimosas and wine. The spread is enormous. I have one of each. The bill arrives and we’re charged for the wine. Huh? Some staffer gave us bad info, so the wine is comped. What a great town.

Thanks mainly to George Mitchell, Galveston had a nice trolley system. Ike knocked it out and all that are left are steel tracks. Now that Mitchell is gone, if only some wealthy person with island connections would fix the trolleys and get them running again. Maybe someone with a 147-foot-long yacht. At this point you are wondering who was Galveston? Bernardo de Galvez was a Spanish general who helped the American Revolution, and fought against the Brits in Louisiana and Florida, but today we know only that his name sounds like a beach resort. Galveston is named for someone who never settled the place and may have never even set foot here. Like Dallas. But Jean Lafitte was here; for quite a while he made the island his HQ. Lafitte’s entire pirate crew supposedly held parties on Bolivar Peninsula, thus starting a tradition that drunken frat rats continue to this day. At least one former pirate, Lafitte’s cabin boy, Charles Cronea, stayed and is buried there.

This is the Bolivar Ferry, a fun trip, passing all the huge tankers, watching the porpoises diving and playing in the ferry’s wake. The peninsula was also thoroughly devastated by Hurricane Ike, aka the Bolivar Twist. Since then, hundreds of spiffy new beach houses have been built which will be swept away with the next storm. Do we have to pay every time? Couldn’t FEMA send them the bill? Our quest is a landmark here, the Stingaree restaurant, which is back in business. We called ahead to make sure they had barbequed crabs. Lots of them, except now they are out of them.

Finally, we’re heading home, full and fit. Sea food is not that fattening, except fried, with potatoes, rolls and dessert. In the back seat we have a visitor: a load of barbequed crabs.

 

Ashby is crabby at ashby2comcast.net

 

 

 

CLUBS ARE WILD

November 4, 2013 by  
Filed under Blogs, Hot Button / Lynn Ashby

THE CLUB — Welcome back, old shoe. Sorry we had to temporarily revoke your membership in Club One, a fellowship obviously made up of the wealthiest Americans who live in the top 1 percent. But you did take a tumble when you had to pay that billion dollar fine to the SEC. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Member after member and untold corporations have been writing checks to the feds to stay out of the slammer. Notice almost none of them are serving time for stealing billions. Silly Madoff and Stanford should have been jailed for simply not hiring the right lawyers.

Waiter, we’re a little dry here. Now where was I? Oh, yes, you were asking who and how many qualify for membership. Forbes‘s list of the world’s billionaires has added more than 200 names since 2012 and is now at 1,426. The United States once again leads the list with 442 billionaires. That’s us.

On the other hand, the IRS figures to make the top 1 percent only requires an income of $369,691. Not bad, but it’s less than the minimum annual wage for a decent halfback. If that’s all it takes to climb to the 1 percent bracket, there must be a whole lot of poor people down there, although we don’t have much to do with them, of course. Still, that figure is more than five times the $69,126 you need to enter the top 25 percent and more than 10 times the $34,338 in income to make the top 50 percent.

Now about us. We’re doing pretty well despite the Great Recession. According to an analysis of IRS figures dating back to 1913 by economists at the University of California, Berkeley, the Paris School of Economics and Oxford University, the very wealthiest Americans earned almost 20 percent of the country’s household income last year. That’s our  biggest share since 1928, the year before the stock market crash. Meanwhile, incomes of the very richest, the 0.01 percent, shot up more than 32 percent last year. Indeed, the gap between the richest 1 percent and the rest of America is the widest it’s been since the Roaring ’20s. As for the bottom 99 percent, the income of that group went nowhere between 2009 and 2011. That’s why we call ourselves “job creators.” I had to hire another food taster. Win one for the gapper.  Which reminds me, where are our drinks?

How did we do so well? The rising stock market, mostly, which is ours. The Dow Jones industrial average more than doubled in value since it bottomed out early in 2009.   About half of households hold stock, directly or through pension plans and such. But the richest 10 percent of households own about 90 percent of the stock. Actually, it is we who occupy Wall Street, a fact we don’t like to broadcast.

Another way we have practically commandeered the American economy is through corporations. Corporate profits hit a record this year as a share of U.S. economic output. And we chief enchiladas did wonderfully well. In 2012, according to the Economic Policy Institute, chief executives of the nation’s largest companies earned 273 times as much as the average American worker. Back in 1965, the typical CEO earned only about 18-20 times what the average worker took home. What are the unions going to do about it? They’re dying. Union membership has dropped from 23.3 percent in 1983 to 11.3 percent this year, according to the Labor Department. Obama shouldn’t try to drag down the top cats, but rather lift up the great unwashed. Remember, a rising tide raises all yachts.

We’ve all heard, time and again, “Half of Americans don’t pay income taxes.” Keep saying it long enough and people will believe it. Actually, the figure is 43 percent who don’t pay federal income taxes. They pay lots of taxes directly or indirectly: fees and fines, property taxes, school taxes, sales taxes, taxes on gasoline, pitchforks and torches. Individual income taxes only contribute 45 percent to the fed’s budget. Everybody pays the remaining 55 percent. Just remember, in Texas no one pays a state income tax, but Austin still wrings billions out of us.

Most members of Congress qualify for our club. There are currently 245 millionaires — 66 in the Senate and 179 in the House. Obama is in the top 1 percent, but don’t expect us to invite him in the club. Rick Perry’s net worth is estimated at just over $1 million, which is not bad for a poor boy who has been a Texas state employee most of his adult life. Well, let’s not get bogged down in numbers, as I was telling the IRS auditor. Besides, we pay our taxes. According to the IRS the top 1 percent of earners received $1.5 trillion in 2010. We paid $355 billion in federal income taxes, for an average tax rate of 23.4 percent. Or as Leona Helmsley told her housekeeper, “We don’t pay taxes. Only the little people pay taxes.” Helmsley later went to prison for federal tax evasion, which is why we bounced her from the club. I mean, getting caught, really.

That brings up two former members, Bill Gates and Warren Buffet. They had to go. Wanting to increase taxes on us, giving away their fortunes to feed starving children.

As a member of Club One, there are a few secrets, sayings and such you should know. Stand before the mirror and work on, “Do you have any Grey Poupon?” Use “summer” as a verb. As in: “This year I’ll summer in the Hamptons.” Change your children’s nicknames to Muffy and Skip. Be sure you know the secret code for your bank account in the Cayman Islands, not to mention Zurich. It is virtually required that you don’t have a front license plate on your Lamborghini. They so mess up the grill, don’t you think? Ah, here come our drinks. Thank you, Mitt.

 

Ashby is  taxed at ashby2@comcast.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MENCHIE’S CELEBRATES GRAND OPENING OF NEW HOUSTON LOCATION BY GIVING AWAY FREE FROZEN YOGURT FOR A YEAR

November 1, 2013 by  
Filed under Events

EVENT:           MENCHIE’S CELEBRATES GRAND OPENING OF NEW HOUSTON LOCATION BY GIVING AWAY FREE FROZEN YOGURT FOR A YEAR

DATE:              Saturday, November 2 from 11 a.m. – 2 p.m.

PLACE:             Menchie’s, 5000 Westheimer Road, Houston, TX 77056

DETAILS:        Menchie’s will celebrate the grand openings of its newest Houston location in Post Oak with an afternoon of fun and excitement for their guests by giving away free frozen yogurt for a year. Ten lucky guests will walk away from the Grand Opening events with free, best-in-class frozen yogurt for the next year.

Menchie’s is also encouraging customers and neighbors to give back to the community by donating gently used Halloween costumes and leftover during the Grand Opening events at the store. All collected items will then be donated to DePelchin Children’s Center
 in Houston and contributors will receive one dollar off of their purchase.

Menchie’s will also celebrate the grand opening of its River Oaks location (1944A West Gray Street) on Saturday, November 2 with free frozen yogurt for a year   and will be accepting costume and candy donations as well.

CONTACT:       Ahna Gavrelos
ahna@integratePR.com
                       (409) 893-7547