No. 712 – Lowdown

Performer: Boz Scaggs

Songwriters: Boz Scaggs, David Paich

Original Release: Silk Degrees

Year: 1976

Definitive Version: None

If Laurie were to do a list like this, this song probably would be in her top 100. Laurie used to play Boz Scaggs a lot, and she said that this was always the first song during a dance party in her dorm at KU. I have this image of her bare-footing it to this song, with a late-Seventies Farrah haircut, drinking 905 with her Guess jeans on, looking hot.

Laurie grew up in Kansas, and at the end of 2006, she took me to Kansas City to see the Christmas Lights on the Plaza and show me the old stamping grounds. We got a rental car and stayed with a friend.

The first day was to be the big touring day. We wound around the part of town where her dad had his last house before making our way south to see her mom, who is buried there. Laurie tried to find her mom’s gravesite by memory, and we ended up spending a fair amount of time walking around the cemetery before Laurie finally found it.

The next stop was the Kansas side of KC for lunch at Hayward’s. Hayward’s is to Kansas City barbecue what Gino’s East or Lou Malnati’s is to Chicago deep-dish pizza: It’s derivative of the original but exceeds it. Just as Ground Zero of Chicago pizza is Uno’s, from whence Lou Malnati and the chef who founded Gino’s got their start, Ground Zero of Kansas City barbecue is Bryant’s, where Hayward worked before going on his own.

Hayward’s is an odd location for something so seminal—essentially nestled in the middle of an antiseptic office complex. It looks not unlike a Pizza Hut both on the outside and inside, with a lot of brass railing, low-hanging lights and vinyl booths.

The pulled pork was phenomenal. However, I made a tactical mistake: It was about 2 by the time we got there, and I got the full-size sandwich, fries and cole slaw—with an appetizer of onion rings.

When I was done, I was REALLY done. I was so stuffed that after awhile, we had to stop at Loose Park, one of Laurie’s favorites, to hike around until I didn’t feel so much like Mr. Creasote just shy of a waffair-theen mint. The real problem of course was that we would be going to dinner with Laurie’s friends in just a few hours, and I had no interest in eating any more food.

So I didn’t. We went to Stroud’s on the far east reaches of the Kansas City metroplex. Stroud’s is in a gigantic old farmhouse-like building (not the original location), and it’s famous for its fried chicken and gravy. I just sat there drinking water and feeling like an idiot while everyone else loaded up. Just before we left, my stomach had shrunk enough so I was able to try an extra drum and cursed myself—again—for not leaving enough room to fully enjoy Stroud’s.

The next day was more of the same—food, visiting with old friends and touring KC—but the lesson learned, I had only enough to get me by each meal. We hit Winstead’s, which is like White Castle in terms of the size of the burgers; and did the Golden Ox, which is a prime-rib establishment in the Stockyards. Laurie said it was her dad’s favorite restaurant, and I cold see why. It’s an old-school beefeteria, and it was good, but it wasn’t as great as the Hayward’s/Stroud’s combo the day before.

We wound up the night at the Phoenix downtown watching Mama Ray, who is a Kansas City institution, sing the blues at the Phoenix while drinking dessert—chocolate martinis. Aside from the complete lack of pretense on the part of Mama Ray, I couldn’t get over the fact that—at least from where we sat—she was a dead ringer for Mom, who would never get in front of anyone to do anything.

Then we were on our way back to Chicago the next day. It was New Year’s Eve, and we wanted to be home for the holiday. With the exception of my dumbitude on the first day, it was a good trip, and Laurie was glad that if she wanted to go home again, she’d have an eager travel companion. Just so long as I don’t get the 10-inch pulled pork sandwich at Hayward’s, it’s all good.