Last week, the OKC Friday released its annual ranking of the “50 Most Powerful Young Professionals in Oklahoma City” as voted on by apparently the friends, family and coworkers of the people who made the list.
The “50 Most Powerful Young Professionals in Oklahoma City” is kind of like a 40 Under 40 for people who may not be under 40. It’s one of The Friday’s most popular features, as there’s nothing Fridayland readers love more than seeing their kids and grandkids in the newspaper.
This is the second year the paper released the rankings, and it isn’t without some controversies. The first being – what do we consider “young” now?
Some of the people they named are older than me, and I just turned 43! Can you really be a young professional in your 40s? And if so, how did I not make the list?! Seriously, who’s more powerful? Me, Patrick Riley, The Wizard of Oz behind The Lost Ogle, or a goober like Collins Peck:
Okay. Based on names alone, Collins Peck is probably more powerful than me. Bad example. Let’s go with a different one:
“I’ve taken a fair amount of teasing amount my name during this conference and I finally got a little tired of it last night when I got on the elevator and a man again teased me about my name—which is Mankiller. He asked me about the origin of it and I said it was a […]
It was last Friday around noon when my precious pup Sean and I decided we were going to trek to the newly reopened Charcoal Oven, 3604 N. May Ave., mostly due to their strange restaurant hours, closing daily at 5 p.m. Yet, somewhere around N.W. 30th—the point of no return, at least for me—it started to mildly drizzle.
Sean loved it, sniffing and smelling everything coated in the fresh rain while, as you could guess, I hated it. Still, I soldiered on with him in tow, down to the new site of Charcoal Oven, formerly the home of one of my old places of employment, Blockbuster Video. I wonder if they found that crate of previously viewed titles I stashed in the back…
With no dogs allowed inside—of course—I tied Sean’s leash to the metal railing outside, by the picnic tables. As I went into the new establishment, it was duly packed, with plenty of cronish elders staring at my dog and then at me disapprovingly, the force of a thousand daggers piercing my heart. But, after I quickly placed my order, I figured I’d be in and out. Figured.
After a wait of roughly 45 minutes—one where I went back and forth to make sure Sean was alright in the inclement weather—admittedly there was a part of me that was seething over that long a wait for a fucking hamburger. As soon as I got my bag, I went outside to sit with him as he excitedly jumped around, these meaty treats being one of his favorite foods. I know the feeling.
Check out this burger: