Recently, I saw a VH1 profile of AC/DC (yes, I sometimes watch VH1…you got a problem with that?). Near the end, the interviewer asked Angus Young what the future held for AC/DC.
Angus, by now balding and middle-aged, but just as badass as ever, replied, “You can expect many more years of straight-up, toe-tapping rock and roll.”
That’s Tyler’s Burgers in a nutshell. Nothing fancy; Tyler’s offers classic American burgers, served on a great shaded patio, accompanied by classic fries, dished out by classic waitresses. A classic burger will set you back $6.75, with an extra buck for a cheeseburger. A big basket of fries is another $4.
Tyler’s is always crowded, and we saw everyone from lone diners to families fulfilling their burger jones.
I enjoyed Tyler’s, and my wife and I wolfed down our burgers in less than 15 minutes, with plenty of ketchup-slathered fries.
Alas, Tyler’s is also a great example of the perils of relativity. While the Tyler’s burgers were good, they weren’t transcendent like the Ooh La La burger I’d had the previous day. So in the parlance of behavioral economics, Tyler’s represented an A- to the A of Grill-A-Burger. At the same time, Tyler’s burgers weren’t clearly superior to the inspired creations of In-N-Out Burger, which provides straight-up, toe-tapping burgers for 1/4 the cost of Tyler’s creations. Admittedly, an In-N-Out hamburger is considerably smaller than a Tyler’s burger, but for that price, you could always just buy two. And In-N-Out’s fresh-cut fries are definitely superior to Tyler’s commodity frozen spuds, and again, half the price.
Plus, Tyler’s doesn’t offer animal style!