Elder JJZ Desires a Real Life (part I)

I really need to get on to real life, watch SNL, and what looks to be an exciting finish of the Masters tomorrow.

But back to Quonset huts.

As a structural engineer, Q Huts were an ingenious solution to providing shelter with pre-fabricated components that could be assembled remotely with no crane or foundation. So they proved useful to the US military in remote war zones in the 40’s and 50’s since they could be quickly erected by infantry men with a ladder and some sledge hammers and wrenches.

After the wars, they were disassembled and sold off.

In Turkey , where Elder JPZ and I lived (1966-1967) on a NATO base (I’m sure the Turkish government was not paying their 2% of GDP to NATO and the US was likely flying U2 missions from this base to spy on Russia), we lived in a modest ranch style home on the base. I have vivid memories of riding my bike past the Q-Huts where the Turkish NATO officers lived and smelling the aroma of spices and foreign food.^[1] These were aromas not present in our household since (God rest her soul) our mom was not an adventurous cook. Anyway, I always associate Q-Huts with my first encounter with ‘exotic’ aromas and I have turned into a very experimental foodie.

Now to Velveeta. In college at Texas A&M, we didn’t have frats. So dorms were the social life. The university owned 3 repurposed Q-Huts off campus that could be used for social events. Once or twice a year, our all male dorm would invite a female dorm to a mixer at the Q-Hut. You can imagine this being a sparse space in the woods. Concrete floor, some sort of a music system (likely someone’s dorm stereo that could play 8 tracks or cassettes). Awkward guys asking girls to dance. Slow dancing to ‘Color My World’ by Chicago.

But I was in charge of refreshments for several of these encounters. That meant getting somebody to make a run to get ice and beer and I would procure 4 bricks of Velveeta, 2 cans of Rotel tomatoes and 6 bags of tortilla chips. Dumped cheese and Rotel in a crock pot and mission accomplished.
Elder JJZ

^[1] One other time we visited the Turkish housing area – Jim had lost his baseball glove, but our father had written a plethora of contact info, with indelible marker, onto almost every surface of the glove. The glove was found by a Turkish kid and his dad gave our dad a call. We drove over and picked up the glove, then got chewed out on the way home for not being able to hold a conversation with the family in Turkish.

Unpacking – First, The Masters

Elder JJZ must now watch the Masters on TV, since he received a lifetime in-person ban after “the incident.”

Unpacking – Quonset Huts

We’re considering the purchase of a 5,000sq ft hut from CurveCo.

Ordering couldn’t be easier….

This will be a good summer project for Sally and her Helper Application Interns.

Unpacking – Texas A&M Party!

Now to Velveeta. In college at Texas A&M, we didn’t have frats. So dorms were the social life. The university owned 3 repurposed Q-Huts off campus that could be used for social events. Once or twice a year, our all male dorm would invite a female dorm to a mixer at the Q-Hut. You can imagine this being a sparse space in the woods. Concrete floor, some sort of a music system (likely someone’s dorm stereo that could play 8 tracks or cassettes). Awkward guys asking girls to dance. Slow dancing to ‘Color My World’ by Chicago.

Velveeta + Ro*Tel

The Mixer

But I was in charge of refreshments for several of these encounters. That meant getting somebody to make a run to get ice and beer and I would procure 4 bricks of Velveeta, 2 cans of Rotel tomatoes and 6 bags of tortilla chips. Dumped cheese and Rotel in a crock pot and mission accomplished.

Semi-Sequitur: Rotel and the Hot Tomatoes

Elder G fills us in on this Austin icon.

Ah, Rotel and the Hot Tomatoes! A beloved Austin institution — part live band, part high-energy retro revue, and 100% Texas fun.

Here’s the spicy salsa scoop:

Who They Are:

Rotel and the Hot Tomatoes is a show band known for combining great party music with wildly theatrical performances. They specialize in retro hits from the 1950s through the 1980s — think Elvis, the Beatles, the Supremes, ABBA, and even early MTV hits. And they don’t just play the songs — they inhabit them.

What Makes Them Unique:

Costume Changes: Constant. Think go-go boots, Elvis jumpsuits, disco glitter, and full ’60s glam. They’re like a musical time machine with a wardrobe budget.

High-Energy Performances: It’s not just a concert; it’s a show. Dancing, humor, themed medleys — they bring the vibe of a Vegas lounge act dropped into a Texas roadhouse.

Corporate Gigs, Weddings, Festivals: They’ve long been one of the most in-demand party bands for big events, especially around Austin and throughout Texas.

The Name:

Yes, it’s a cheeky nod to RO*TEL tomatoes — those cans of spicy diced tomatoes and green chilies that are a key ingredient in many Tex-Mex dips. It’s as if they said, “Let’s name our band after a zesty party snack” — and then lived up to the flavor.

Legacy:

They’ve been performing since the 1980s, and have become something of a Texas cultural treasure. Their appeal spans generations, because who doesn’t love dancing to “Dancing Queen” while someone in an outrageous wig hands you a tambourine?