I used to believe that, just like there was no such thing as a bad day of golf (or fishing), there was no such thing as bad barbecue. Then, I went to Dickey's in Scottsdale. \n\nI was chased out of my house by a posse of women/children who wanted to watch Smurfs. I wanted to watch the Lions-Saints football game. Stacey's BBQ on Shea no longer has a television. I thought I'd try Dickey's Barbecue Pit. It ticks off my g/f when I eat barbecue. SHE listens to my cardiologist. I ordered half a rack of pork ribs, barbecue beans and iced tea.\n\nDickey's must have pigs bred just for them. I've never seen pork ribs with so much fat on them. Most barbecue joints will brag about how their spare rib meat  falls off the bone. At Dickey's, the meat on these pork spare ribs hung on the bone like it was super-glued. There was no discernible rub on the ribs. In spite of asking for the barbecue sauce on the side, it was sweet barbecue sauce that was splashed on my ribs. The hot barbecue sauce (next to the soda machine) was tangy.\n\nMost barbecue joints brag about their iced tea. At Dickey's, I was handed a cup and pointed toward a soda machine. Shaved ice and Nestea. No lemons. The only lemonade available was Minute Maid diet. Blecch. \n\nThe barbecue beans? If you like your barbecue beans mushy and bland, this is the place for you. I've had better beans that were poured out of a can. \n\nIn sum, Dickey's is to barbecue what Earl Scheib's is to automobile paint jobs. My meal was everything barbecue was not supposed to be. The best part of my meal (besides leaving) was the yellow plastic cup. No one could get me in these doors again, not for love or money. Stacey's: PLEASE get a new television.