I have a fairly high patience threshold. Maybe higher than most. If my desires are certain to be satiated at waits end, there is almost nothing I can't (or won't) tough out. I attribute this to a couple of things.

First off, I have a four-year-old son. That fact alone gives me the human equivalent of a whale’s ability to hold its breath underwater. A kid doesn't know what annoying means. But he innately senses that the more times he can ask the same (fucking) question in a five minute time period the more likely he is to get an answer. Regardless of the (fucking) question.

The second life experience feather I have in my patience cap is that I have gone through chemotherapy. Try spending five hours watching poison drip into your blood stream. Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, well, you get the idea. Now try doing this several times a week until you have to stop for a week to let your body rest so that the poison/"medicine" doesn't (FUCKING) kill you.

There really isn't anything I can't take — if the payoff is something I enjoy.

I bring this up as a warning to those who haven't learned that nothing worth eating comes out of a microwave.

My favorite breakfast spot in Tacoma is the Old Milwaukee Cafe on Sixth Avenue. The Meel wok-ay, as we call it, is a diner. As I see it, there are all of about seven tables, of which only three seat more than two people. It’s run by a husband and wife team, Chad and Pat, and I think it’s safe to say, from observation, that if you like being married to your husband or wife don't open a restaurant together. Sometimes on weekend mornings I've seen someone helping out in the dining room, but for the most part it’s just the two of them. He cooks and sometimes delivers orders to tables, and she does everything else. If the place is full when you get there — and it will be if you go on a day that ends with a  'y’ before eleven a.m. — put your name on the waiting list, ask how long it might be, and go for a little walk. You really could use a little exercise.

I have taken to not showing up at Old Milwaukee until at least after noon, and I rarely go at all on weekends. Saturday and Sunday at the Milwaukee are akin to going out for drinks on New Year’s Eve — it’s pretty much amateur hour. So any weekday, sans Monday and Tuesday (they're closed for a much needed breather), show up after noon and you may be sharing the spot with only one or two other tables (sometimes more, but not always). My favorite breakfast these days is the SOS...YOUR WAY. It’s basically country gravy with hamburger meat (and LOTS of it) instead of sausage over hash browns with eggs poached, or over easy. All of the food is like your buddy’s mom growing up who made EVERYTHING taste so good. I fancy myself a bit of potato connoisseur, and the hash browns at Old Milwaukee are so good, I'm almost ready to admit I have a problem and start going to meetings. They're light and fluffy, but still have form, not too much grease, not too dry ... you could serve these things with a turd and most folks would bring back an empty plate.

My son is a huge fan of the turkey sandwich. It looks exactly like what I would make at home — lots of turkey, tons of mayo, lettuce and tomato. They muck it up with a bunch of filler like onions, or cranberry. The house soup is Italian beef pasta (are you starting to catch a theme here?) and it is the best soup I have ever eaten that isn't made with coconut milk. It’s a thick bowl of meaty Italian sauce with just enough pasta to call it a soup. It is un-believable.    

At Old Milwaukee all the food is hearty, home cooked fare. Sure, it may take a second to get served, but what ends up in your tummy will have you planning your return before you even pay you bill.

Drummer Geoff Reading — who will be writing a bi-weekly column for the Weekly Volcano online called “Holding Down the 253” which will post every other Friday — has played music in tons of Northwest bands. Green Apple Quickstep, New American Shame, Top Heavy Crush and most recently Duff McKagan's LOADED — to name but a few. He's toured the world several times over, sharing stages with the likes of Slipknot, The Cult, Buckcherry, Korn, Journey, The Sex Pistols, Nine Inch Nails and on and on. He has called Tacoma home since 2005, and he holds down the 253 in the North End with his wife and son.