My Cats

Boo Radley and Nobody were born on June 21st, 2003. I learned of this through Amy, my girlfriend at the time. Her co-worker had three female cats that had all had litters at the same time, and Amy had volunteered to take one off her hands. I was Four Square against it, but in compromise agreed to visit the kittens.

This co-worker was some sort of hippie/Buddhist/pothead/slacker squatting in an abandoned store in Berkeley. The place looked and smelled as if a port-a-potty had tipped over inside of it. Semi-feral cats were free to roam in and out of broken and boarded-over windows. The urine-soaked carpeting had been ripped up from the floor and left rolled up in piles for the multitude of cats and kittens to play and shit in.

There was something like 13 kittens, all a few weeks old, and amongst them was a tiny grey thing too weak to fend off the others for milk. Fortunately, one of his brothers, who was grey and white, made room for him so he could nurse. Then these two bounced around and played together. This camaraderie was endearing enough to persuade me to agree to adopt both kittens.

When they were eight weeks old, the kittens came to live in our split-level apartment. They had fleas and ear mites, which Amy got rid of with frequent baths and q-tips, both of which the kittens enjoyed very much. While neither kitten was particularly shy, the grey and white one was more suspicious of us. The all grey one liked being tossed around and spanked. I ended up naming them after characters from two of my favorite American black-and-white movies: Boo Radley from To Kill A Mockingbird and Nodody from Dead Man.

I was eking out a living as a drummer at the time, so I spent my days practicing drums in the basement, watching Judge Judy and running around with a light bulb pull-chain which was Nobody’s favorite toy. They would hang around while I practiced, and were eerily unafraid of the noise of my drums.

There was no way we were going to keep these curious cats indoors, but they did seem to quickly understand that they were not to go into the road. I started opening a back window every day so they could come and go as they pleased. Our back yard was full of gopher piles, and Boo was soon bringing critters in and leaving their guts for us to clean up. Amy didn’t like the cats being out after dark, and the cats did not like to come in at night.

Nobody will copy any new thing Boo does to explore what he may have discovered, but they’ve had distinct personalities from day one. Boo’s favorite thing is to climb on top of people when they are in bed, and Boo’s favorite spot was on top of Amy’s head. Nobody’s favorite thing is to be spanked, and he’ll tap you with a paw incessantly until he wins your attention and then sticks his butt in the air. Nobody’s nickname is Tapper. When he gets bored he’ll provoke Boo by poking at his hind legs. Boo sleeps more than Nobody. Boo is more complex than Nobody in that he seems to have a greater spectrum of emotions. Sometimes Boo will get really excited and will adamantly demand affection. At other times he will be aloof. Boo has a more diverse repertoire of sounds and better strategies for getting his point across. He makes an amazing chattering noise at birds.

Boo is more particular about which humans he likes. There are certain people, usually girls, whom he seems to recognize and favor. Nobody will go up to random strangers on the sidewalk, and it’s very cute watching people stop to pet him- except I get nervous somebody’s going to walk off with him. Fortunately, Nobody does not like to be carried. Boo is very protective of Nobody, and has never met another cat he liked. He used to whine whenever he didn’t know where Nobody was, and he still tries to keep an eye on him when Nobody’s outdoors.

When Amy and I broke up, I cried for two days- because I was going to have to live without the cats. This is the truth. In an act of supreme empathy and generosity, and because she was sick of all the crying, Amy offered to let me keep them.

I rented a bedroom in an apartment where I left the window open at all times for the cats to come and go at their leisure. My roommates had four cats, One of the roommates’ cats would piss in a corner of my room, which I successfully remedied by moving the cat box to that spot. A bite from another apartment’s cat resulted in an infection that required Boo to wear a cone on his head for two weeks. He spent that time walking backwards. When our stay in Oakland came to an end and I started packing, Boo ran for it and hid. He delayed the move for 24 hours while I outsmarted him with food to trap him. They did a very good job moving to Portland.

I found a place to live with this condescending prick who Nobody was seemingly fond of, except that he pissed on his bed a few times when we first moved there. I got a cat door and built a wood frame to fit it into my bedroom window. Eventually the thing fell apart. I began dating Rachel, who quickly became Boo’s all-time favorite person (to this day). Seriously, Boo would snuggle with Rachel in the cutest positions ever. She was very fond of my kitties.

Boo and Casey did not get along, perhaps because Boo likes to sprawl out on paper and she likes to read. Casey openly did not like Boo, which I found both startling and annoying, and insisted Boo knew she didn’t like him, but she either thought that notion was absurd or didn’t care. Nobody liked her very much though (exactly why that’s such a fun name), and, while he generally taps people at every instant they are not petting him, he was content to lie beside her and watch her read. Casey liked that Nobody is more like a dog than a cat. My cats are deathly afraid of dogs, by the way.

When we moved cross-country through the desert/south this summer, I crammed them in the back of an SUV and rigged up tubing running from the air-conditioning vents to keep them alive and monitored their temperature with a remote thermometer I bought along the way. Nobody got really sick on the first day and pretty much turned himself inside-out all over the truck. One night we stayed in a motel and they were so disgusting I bathed them twice. I had to keep them shut in the bathroom because otherwise Boo would have crawled and hid in the box springs of the torn-up crappy motel bed, and the poor guy cried and cried in that bathroom pretty much all night. They were pretty miserable during the trip, but recovered quickly.

Both cats always sleep with/on me, and I guess I pretty much let them do whatever they want except scratch on things other than their scratch pad and climb on kitchen counters. I guess they’re kind of annoying- but not nearly as much as most humans. My cats have never lied to me. Whenever I move, someone inevitably asks, “Are you taking the cats with you?” This never ceases to be an incredibly odd question to me. Of course! I fail to fathom what the alternative could be.

Boo rarely goes outside these days; I suspect because he’s sick of dealing with new cats every time he moves. Nobody is just crazy about my brother, and whines at him constantly, which I’d never witnessed before. Both cats have generally been pretty quiet, except when they think they are about to get treated with moist food, which is rarely. They prefer seafood. Which reminds me- I haven’t fed them this morning. I don’t monitor how much they eat but they’ve always stayed skinny. But when Boo gets hungry he eats too fast and throws it back up….

Begin Again Again

When I first got to Iowa, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. Ironically, I was very fortunate in having a place I could take refuge. I came to live with my brother, whom I last lived with 22 years ago. I didn’t actually know quite what to expect. It turns out he’s not dissimilar to me if you removed my cockiness. I am privileged with the opportunity to get back on my feet without desperation. My brother, like myself, is a generous person. He has this Mennonite cookbook full of simple meals that he makes most nights. I am going to have to get myself a copy. First, I have to get myself a truck.

The public transportation system here is hilarious. There are something like 12 buses that make a loop once an hour and meet in the middle of downtown, so the bus route map is comparable to the city with a child-drawn flower on top of it. A ticket is $1.25; however, if you want to transfer (which you’ll always want to do unless your destination is downtown), you have to pay again or get a $3.00 day pass. Inexplicably, they stop running altogether at 7:00pm, and don’t run on Sundays at all!

Moving to a new place is an excellent opportunity to reinvent oneself. For starters, I tell everyone here I’m from the west coast, which I feel is true. One bizarre thing is that everyone here seems to think I’m quiet and reserved!

I have had the chance to sort through every single one of my possessions this year and get rid of a lot of junk. Most Americans have an appalling accumulation of crap. The things I own that I like the most are my tattoos, which is a good thing.

For the most part, it seems the only people that live in Cedar Rapids are those who don’t know enough to leave. But there’s something relaxing about the quaintness of it all. It’s a perfect place to save money, as housing is super cheap and there’s nothing to do.

I got a job working with AT&T. It’s not bad, but the co-workers I’m training with are a bunch of nineteen-year-old mothers who eat ramen noodles for every lunch and fast food for every dinner, all washed down with soda, which they call “pop.” I’ve been inspired by the reality that, no matter how bad it might be for me right now, at least I’m not one of these losers. I’m reminded of one of my favorite lines from the apropos movie Lonesome Jim, “I think about ending it enough as it is; I can’t imagine having YOUR life.” But really these kids are smart, witty and driven. I’ve found myself learning from them.

Nobody ever did anything by saying “I can’t.” I am the type of person who has tended to be motivated by criticism and bored with compliments. Now I’ve realized that negativity is the real bore. There is no greater gift than the opportunity to pay someone a compliment. I still think people that need to be complimented all the time are pathetic.

There have been times when I’ve felt life owed me something. Now I’m realizing I owe life something. While I can at times behave like a bratty little kid, at heart I am a responsible adult… who should not date bratty little kids. Another key realization is that I have always been attracted to strong-willed, independent people. This really explains a lot about my life.

I feel so blessed with all that I’ve accomplished and experienced. I’ve done more this year alone than what most people can ever dream of. Just thinking about the food I’ve eaten and the places I’ve been this year: The best Indian food I ate was in Tuscaloosa, breakfast- Tuscaloosa, Thai- Chattanooga, sushi- Portland, Mexican- Portland, bar food- Portland, Tex Mex- Huston, home-cooked meal- Tucson, coffee- Tucson, cocktails- New Orleans, Spanish- New Orleans, Italian- San Francisco, Peruvian- San Francisco… AND since I can’t get a nopales burrito around here, I’ve learned to make my own.

2010 Top 10

in chronological order:

Scotch tastings at Ian’s
Chant and Risa’s Oregon visit
Joseph Cornell exhibit at New Orleans Art Museum
Watching Portland Beavers games with the Lemon Ladies
Reuniting with college classmate Stefanie
Applejack cocktail tasting at my apt.
Surprise going away party in my honor
Meeting Makena and Ryder McLaughlin
Seeing Eric Sheldon and his family
Lance’s 40th birthday

Other awesome things included watching World Cup and playing a ton of disc golf. I also got to spend time in ten different states (traveling through several others) and live in three of them this year! AND THE GIANTS WON THE WORLD SERIES!!! 2010 has truly been a great year and I look forward to the next one.

Disc Golf

Disc golf is an almost nonsense sport in which one tries to throw a Frisbee-like disc into a metal basket lifted a few feet off the ground and with chains above the basket intended to ensnare the disc. Disc golf courses are laid out similar to regular golf courses except the course can be much more wooded and there is no green. Most courses are of the par three variety, in which you try to get the disc into the basket in three throws. Perhaps the best thing about disc golf is that it is fairly easy for a beginner to pick up, but provides infinite challenges as one continues to attempt to lower their score.

One thing most who have never played the sport don’t understand about disc golf is that you don’t actually use a Frisbee like what you’d play catch with. Disc golf discs are smaller, flatter and made of a harder plastic. The two biggest companies that make these discs are Innova and Discraft, and although there are many others (Millennium would be the third biggest I guess), to my knowledge Wham-O, who makes Frisbees, does not, and this is one good reason why the sport is not called Frisbee golf.

There are several ways to throw a disc. Backhanded, in which you throw the disc across the body (the same foot as the throwing arm should be forward), is the most familiar and popular method. For right-handed throwers, discs thrown back-handed will tend to curve to the left. Everything is reversed for left-handed throwers. (When describing the characteristics of discs, right-hand backhand is the most-used reference point and is generally abbreviated RHBH.) The curve of a disc from right to left is called “hyzer.” It is extremely useful to learn how to throw and control hyzer shots. Oftentimes, it is the only way to get around trees. Also, from medium distances, you often want to hyzer into the basket rather than throwing straight at it, because if you miss, a hyzer shot will land nearer the target. The simplest way to hyzer a disc is to hold the far edge of the disc lower than the edge held with the hand. A disc which curves from left to right is called “anhyzer,” and is somewhat more difficult for a novice right-hander to throw and control than a hyzer. Besides raising the outer lip of the disc, I’ve found backhanded anhyzers are thrown if you arch your back (or fall backward, which is one important reason to stay balanced through the swing). It is easy to accidentally anhyzer a shot while standing on a left to right slope.

A forehanded throw, or “flick,” is a sidearm throw that, for right-handers, tends to curve to the right; in other words, anhyzer. Because it requires less motion, forehand is often a very useful technique to know for getting out of bad lies. It’s preferable to have the foot opposite the throwing arm forward, but foot position is more forgiving than with backhand, so you can be more squared to the target. You can generate more speed with less arm swing by flicking, which can make flicks better for headwinds and long uphills. Flicks tend to fly a bit straighter than backhands, but are not as easy to guide or finesse as backhands.

A third type of throw is a roller, in which you throw the disc so that it rolls on the ground. It can be a useful technique on certain holes if you can figure out how to do it. The thumber and tomahawk are two other throws, both in which you throw the disc overhand like a ball. These are useful for getting over obstacles.

There are as many different discs available to buy as there are body types and throwing styles, which makes choosing the right one(s) for you a royal pain. Innova’s success seems to lie in its ability to make beginner-friendly discs, but Discraft, Millenium, DGA, Maple Valley and others all offer good discs. I’ve seen people on the course who look like they’re carrying one of each disc ever made, which gets pretty ridiculous. You have to have pinpoint control before you can actually utilize different discs to their full potential. Because each disc handles different, switching discs too often will tend to hinder a novice’s game, as your muscle memory will be working overtime trying to coordinate how to throw each one. It is more useful to devote the time necessary throwing one disc and becoming familiar with it. Besides, most people carrying all those discs only use a few of them for their primary throws per round. The rest are mainly used for chucking in frustration after the first throw goes awry.

Disc golf fact #1: There is no disc which is incapable of hitting a tree.

The main differences in discs are:
1. How much they weigh. Most discs weigh between 160- 175 grams with some mid-rangers going up to 180 grams. They also sell discs which are 150 grams- I believe because in Japan it is a tournament rule that all discs must weigh 150 grams- but I’ve never used one. As a rule of thumb, lighter drivers go further than heavier drivers, but heavier discs are a bit more predictable. For this reason, it is preferable for mid-range discs, where you are trying to land as close to the basket as possible, to be a bit heavier than drivers, where you want to get as much distance as possible. Weight also plays a huge factor in stability, wind and glide (see differences #3, #4 and #5). Heavier discs are also better at getting through obstacles like small branches and leaves.

2. How much force they are to be thrown with. Each disc has what is referred to as its “speed,” which is the optimal force each disc has been designed to be thrown with. Speed has a lot to do with amount of torque or axial spin put on the disc. Like helicopter blades, the turning of a disc will help it fly through the air. Discs with higher speeds are designed to have less drag. You can get more distance with discs that can be thrown with more force, but a disc will have much more fade (see difference #6) if not thrown at its max velocity. I’ve discovered you can generate more speed from a disc by gripping it more tightly. Speed is the first number in Innova’s rating system. Discraft rates its discs according to distance, which is a combination of speed and glide (see difference #5).

3. How they’ll tend to move at top speed. This is known as “stability.” Discs which tend to coast to the right when thrown back-handed by a right-hander at their max velocity are referred to as “understable.” Throwing a disc so that it curves to the right (for RHBH throws) at the beginning of its flight is called giving it “turn.” Understable discs are more forgiving so better for beginners. Understable discs are also the ones you can make roll. Overstable discs will tend to hyzer more, which can be useful if you need to curve around trees but best avoided for straight drives. For whatever reason, discs thrown forehanded will fly in a tighter line and so more stable discs are often preferred for forehand throws. Stability is the third number in Innova’s rating system (negative numbers given to understable discs). Innova discs range from +1 (very stable) to -4. Discraft discs are rated with a number which combines stability with fade (see difference #6), so their discs range from +3 (very stable) to -1. These rating systems do not take into account two other important factors regarding stability: heavier discs will tend to be more stable than a lighter version of the same disc, and as discs age (see difference #8) they tend to become much less stable.

4. How they’ll behave in the wind. This has most to do with stability. A disc becomes more unstable in headwind, so it’s sometimes better to choose a more stable disc or give it more hyzer when throwing into the wind. Conversely, tailwind will make a less stable. I might not be correct on this last point, but I believe higher speed discs are better for headwinds (because they think they’re going faster than they actually are) and lower speed discs are better for tailwinds (because they think they’re going slower than they actually are).

5. How long they’ll tend to glide in the air. This is what gives you maximum distance. Besides reducing drag, which is a factor of disc speed and disc design, lighter discs will stay aloft longer if there is no wind. It is probably impossible to control how long a disc will glide, and for that reason the total length of flight of lighter discs is less predictable. This is the second number in Innova’s rating system.

6. How much they’ll tend to turn as they slow down. As a disc descends, it will drift to the left for right-handed backhand throwers. This is called fade and is the final number in Innova’s rating system. More fade can be a good thing depending on the route from the tee to the basket. Discs thrown at a speed lower than its top rated speed with have increased fade. Beginners should get discs with less fade as it makes it harder to predict where the disc will land.

7. Their grip. You don’t want a disc to slip out of your hand, which is why you should always have a towel to dry your discs off. Translucent discs (Innova’s are called Champion plastic while Discraft’s are called Z plastic) are less tacky, which I tend to prefer for drivers but not putters.

8. How long they’ll last. All plastic degrades over time, but some plastics are more durable. As they age, discs become more understable. Innova’s Pro series discs age frustratingly quickly. This fact makes disc golf a real consumer sport, because if you play a lot, you must continually buy new discs to replace old ones. If a new disc is overstable, don’t be too quick to dismiss or get rid of it, because you might simply have to break it in or gain throwing experience.

Most companies have a translucent and an opaque line of discs. Usually the translucent version has less tackiness and is slightly less stable, but the new DGA sparkle discs are exceptions, being more stable than their opaque counterparts. You can get discs in an array of colors. Purchasing discs of various colors becomes helpful in being able to easily tell your own discs apart. I have found that black and yellow discs especially but also white ones blend into the ground and can be a pain to try and find. I even own a disc ridiculously colored in what I call autumn camouflage.

Here are disc flight charts for Innova drivers, Innova mid-range and putters, Discraft and DGA. More complicated than you thought, huh? I’ll try to simplify. For beginners, I would suggest starting with two discs- a driver around 165 grams; try an Innova Sidewinder, Valkyrie or Beast or Discraft Avenger SS, and a putter around 170-175 grams; try an Innova Pro Aviar Putt & Approach or Discraft Magnet. For more experienced players, I’d recommend adding a 175-180 versatile mid-range disc, like the Innova Roc, and a more stable driver, such as an Innova Wraith or Discraft Nuke or Surge. A couple discs to check out from companies other than Innova and Discraft: the DGA Rogue driver and the Maple Valley putter.

In disc golf, the first throw is from a platform, called a tee. You can move on the tee during the throw and can release the disc from anywhere on the tee. On a long drive, you are trying to throw the disc as far as you can, landing it in a spot free of obstacles. It is very common for people to brag that they can throw a disc 400-500 feet. That’s much further away than most baskets at most courses. Most experienced throwers can consistently get their drive over 300 feet on a level plain (downhill throws go further and uphill throws shorter). To maximize distance, I grip the disc tightly pushed into the palm with all four finger tips against the inside lip under the disc and the thumb flat on top and throw with force enough to rip the disc out of my hand (instead of letting it go).

On all subsequent throws one foot must be in the area where the previous throw landed when you release your disc. To mark the line of release, you’re supposed to use a marker, which is a small disc placed so it touches the edge of the thrown disc at its point closest to the basket, but most only use these for tournaments. Up until you are 10 meters (about 30 feet) from the basket, you may still step into the throw and follow-through one step past the marker. If closer than 10 meters, your body must remain balanced or stationary (I suppose to prevent you from being able to lean into or jump at the target). A disc is considered in the basket when it comes to rest connected to any part of it or the chains; but not on the very top of the apparatus holding the chains (a disc landing here is called a DROT) or touching the pole underneath the basket.

It is helpful to have what’s called a fairway driver, which is basically a disc designed for the 250 foot range; typical for a short drive or long second shot. Because fairway drivers have more drag than long distance drivers, they will not go as far but will have less fade than a long distance driver would if thrown the same distance. Most beginners should use the same fairway driver for their initial drive and fairway drives because they won’t have the technique required to be able to generate enough rotation from their tee motion to get a high-speed driver up to speed, so the disc will have tons of fade. Once you can throw a fairway driver straight or get it to turn with consistency, then it’ll be time to buy a high-speed driver.

Everybody seems to differ on how to throw mid-range shots, which I think of as being between the 75-225 feet range on a level surface. There is a technique some used called the jump-putt, but I find it easier to set my feet as you would a regular golf shot (shoulder width apart, with toes positioned so a line between them points toward the basket) and control the distance of the disk by adjusting the finger grip, straightening the fingers so they’re less against the inside lip edge and more flat along the bottom for shorter shots. One trick I sometimes utilize is that if you want to throw a mid-range shot with a lot of hyzer, you can simply throw a driver with less speed than it is intended to be thrown with.

On puts, around 75 feet or less from the basket, I point the lead toe at the basket and rock my hips, pushing my arm out from my abdomen, making sure to keep my wrist stiff and my fingers loose, resting the forefinger flat on the outer edge to minimize disc spin. Remember, even a putter will go 200 feet or more if thrown with full velocity.

One inevitable if you play enough disc golf is disc envy. Whenever you see someone else throw a disc 350 feet, you automatically want to know what brand they’re using. Guess what? Chances are good they could take whatever disc you are using and throw it that far, too.

To Be Continued!

When I declared I was leaving, her response was, “But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Now I find myself about to encounter winter for the first time this century. Looking for work is an extremely frustrating endeavor. This is a very easy fact for those with an income to forget. The temptation to wallow in self-pity is nearly overwhelming. At first, I’d resist by reminding myself that feeling sorry for myself didn’t make any sense since I’d gotten myself into this mess to begin with. But I’m beginning to realize that is also overstated. I will continue to persevere against all odds because that is what I’ve always done. Frankly, my willingness to defy a life of complacent resignation is how I am where I am, and that is something to be proud of. One of my favorite quotes comes from Theodore Roosevelt: “He who never fails rarely does anything.”

I will continue to move forward, living my life the only way I know: fearless.

Alabama Day One

Later today I will begin looking for a job. I am excitedly anticipating the possibilities. My future is an unknown. I love to discover and explore. I love change.

Last week, after getting rid of a lot of junk, I moved to Tuscaloosa, Alabama in a rented SUV. After dropping that vehicle off near the Birmingham airport and getting into a tiny Toyota Yaris, I spied a thrift store and decided to check it out. Thrift stores are one of my favorite things; and I was in need of a few items.

Although the store didn’t advertise that it was church affiliated, a Baptist preacher blared overhead. There wasn’t much to be found other than furniture, but I picked up some cat dishes and my girlfriend (the reason for the move) found two large bags she thought might be good for carrying things while bicycling.

“How ya’ll doin’?” the checkout lady inquired earnestly. “What’s your t-shirt say? Whaaat wouuuld P-P-Pycird do… I guess I don’t know what that means.” Behind her were a picture of Jesus and some Bible verses.

“It’s a Star Trek reference,” I muttered, not bothering to explain further or correct her mispronunciation of the Next Generation captain’s name. “I don’t need a bag,” I quickly added as she reached for one.

“That’s alright, I’m gonna give you one anyway. Everyone’s special in this place.” Um, oookay. I dared not protest, although ‘the environment’s special, too,’ came to mind. “I’ll wrap these bowls for ya’ll too.” My girlfriend had gone to look at a dress or something, so the cashier was using ‘ya’ll’ as a singular pronoun.

“Thanks.”

“Wow, what’s that on your arm? That’s different,” she observed rhetorically. The last time someone commented on my arm tattoo was in the Atlanta airport. In my recent hometown of Portland, people are more likely to ask why you don’t have a tattoo. “I like tattoos,” she quickly added.

“Me too.” I attempted to hide the dryness in my voice.

“Ya’ll on vacation?” In retrospect, the nature of the query is obvious, but at the time it caught me completely off-guard. Why in hell would anybody go to Alabama on vacation? I naively assumed that she was asking because of the bags, which she was currently ridiculously shoving into a plastic bag.

“No, we’re just buying a couple bags,” I replied strangely as my girlfriend appeared.

“How ya’ll doin’?” Once again, the cashier managed to make what one would assume to be a frivolous comment not sound automatic.

My girlfriend smiled, “Fine thanks.” I paid for the items.

“Ya’ll have blessed day,” she said to me. Going out of her way to lean toward my girlfriend, she added, “Ya’ll have a blessed day, too.”

Heart of Gold

I want to live
I want to give
I've been a miner
For a heart of gold
It's these expressions
I never give
That keep me searching
For a heart of gold
And I'm getting old
Keeps me searching
For a heart of gold
And I'm getting old

I've been to Hollywood
I've been to Redwood
I crossed the ocean
For a heart of gold
I've been in my mind
It's such a fine line
That keeps me searching
For a heart of gold
And I'm getting old
Keeps me searching
For a heart of gold
And I'm getting old

Keep me searching
For a heart of gold
You keep me searching
For a heart of gold
And I'm growing old
I've been a miner
For a heart of gold

-Neil Young

Demotivator

Wallflower

Wallflower, wallflower
Won't you dance with me
I'm sad and lonely too
Wallflower, wallflower
Won't you dance with me
I'm fallin' in love with you
Just like you I'm wonderin' what I'm doin' here
Just like you I'm wonderin' what's goin' on
Wallflower, wallflower
Won't you dance with me
The night will soon be gone
I have seen you standing in the smoky haze
And I know that you're gonna be mine one of these days
Mine alone
Wallflower, wallflower
Take a chance on me
Please let me ride you home

-Bob Dylan

You've Really Got A Hold On Me

I don't like you
But I love you
Seeing that I'm always
Thinking of you
Oh, oh, oh
You treat me badly
I love you madly
You've really got a hold on me
You've really got a hold on me

Baby,
I don't want you
But I need you
Don't want to kiss you
But I need to
Oh, oh, oh
You do me wrong now
My love is strong now
You've really got a hold on me
You've really got a hold on me

Baby,
I love you and all I want you to do is just
Hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me
Tighter, tigher

I want to leave you
Don't want to stay here
Don't want to spend
Another day here
Oh, oh, oh
I want to split now
I can’t quit now
You've really got a hold on me
You've really got a hold on me

Baby,
I love you and all I want you to do is just
Hold me, squeeze me, hold me, hold me

You've really got a hold on me
You've really got a hold on me

-Smokey Robinson

Intolerance

I don't wanna be
Hostile
I don't wanna be
Dismal
And I don't wanna
Rot in an
Apathetic existence
See I wanna
Believe you
And I wanted to
Trust you
And I wanna have
Faith to
Put away the dagger

But you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
And I tolerated it

Veil of
Virtue
Hung to
Hide your
Method while I
Smile and
Laugh and
Dance and
Sing your
Praise and glory
Shroud of
Virtue
Hung to
Mask your
Stigma as I
Smile and
Laugh and
Dance and
Sing your
Glory

While you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
How can I tolerate you?

Our guilt
Our blame
I've been
Far too
Sympathetic
Our blood
Our fault
I've been
Far too
Sympathetic

I am not innocent
I am not innocent
You are not innocent
No one is innocent

You lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
you lie, cheat and steal
How can I tolerate you?

I will not tolerate you
I will go down beside you
I must go down beside you
No one is innocent

-Tool

It’s Been a Long, Long Time

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It's been a long, long time
Haven't felt like this, my dear
Since I can't remember when
It's been a long, long time

You'll never know how many dreams
I've dreamt about you
Or just how empty they all seemed without you
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It's been a long, long time

-Sammy Cahn

Omniscience

Monotheists claim their god provides all the answers, but in reality it only excuses them from having to provide any. Any and all questions challenging the validity of their beliefs are smugly met with, “I don’t know all the answers, but GOD DOES!” They don’t seem to realize this is a non-answer. Assuming someone else knows does not mean that someone else does know nor should it excuse one from knowing themselves. I humorously imagine these Christians standing at the Pearly Gates and having God ask them, “Why should I let you in?” and hearing them respond, “I don’t know, but YOU DO!”

Christians love to challenge the theory of evolution. “It doesn’t make sense,” they declare without knowing anything about it other than what others who don’t know anything about it have told them. Um, have they read the Genesis creation story? It is LUDICROUS; containing no historical or scientific basis whatsoever. They love to ask, “How could anything exist without a creator?” but refuse to answer, “Who created God, then?” They don’t realize they are merely parlaying the problem. “They demand an answer for the existence of the universe. Their answer is simply, “God.” Yet, they get offended when asked for an explanation of the existence of God. In this context, isn’t “the universe” and “God” simply two ways of saying the same thing? For example, if, “How does the universe exist?” is answered by, “God,” it logically follows that the next question in need of answering is, “How does God exist?” Otherwise the original problem has not in actuality been addressed.

Gods don’t provide any answers; they simply eliminate the incentive to look for them. “Simply believe.” Most Christians would be surprised to know that the idea of BLIND FAITH that they rely so heavily upon isn’t even in their precious albeit mostly ignored- except for when it’s convenient for them to quote from- Bible. I’m fairly certain the term was originally intended as an affront against so-called “believers.” Blind Faith is little more than an Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood collaboration, folks. Wake up and smell the hypocrisy. If you can’t rationally defend your own beliefs your existence is null. You certainly have NO business challenging, criticizing, demonizing, questioning or denying anybody else’s beliefs.

Let me break it down another way: Christians claim their god is omniscient; or all-knowing. This is from the Latin omnis, meaning “all” and scientia, meaning “knowledge.” We now mean science, from that same root word meaning knowledge, to be the methodical pursuit toward acquiring knowledge. “Christian” literally means “of, or like, Christ.” For them, Christ is a manifestation of God. In order to pursue the ways of Christ, the very manifestation of omniscience, one must by definition also be pursuing knowledge. It can therefore be said that Christians who hate science are uninterested in the being they claim to worship.

No doubt someone will want to accuse me here of simply using semantics. On the contrary, I am accurately using semantics. I would LOVE for a Christian to say, “By ‘blind faith’ I mean I don’t want to know,” which IS what they mean.

Jambi

Here from the king's mountain view
Here from the wild dream come true
Feast like a sultan I do
On treasures and flesh never few

But I
I would
Wish it all away
If I
Thought I'd lose you
Just one day

The devil and his had me down
In love with the dark side I'd found
Dabbling all the way down
Up to my neck soon to drown

But you changed that all for me
Lifted me up turned me around

So I
I
I
I
I would
I would
I would
Wish
This
All
Away

Prayed like a martyr dusk 'til dawn
Begged like a hooker all night long
Tempted the devil with my song
And got what I wanted all along

But I
And I would
If I could
Then I would
Wish it away
Wish it away
Wish it all away
Wanna wish it all away

No pressure could hold
Sway
Or justify my kneeling away my center
So if I could I'd wish it all away
If I thought tomorrow would take you away
You're my peace of mind my home my center
I'm just trying to hold on one more day

Damn my eyes
Damn my eyes

Damn my eyes if they should compromise our fulcrum
If wants and needs divide me then I might as well be gone!

Shine on forever
Shine on benevolent sun

Shine down upon the broken
Shine until the two become one

Shine on forever
Shine on benevolent sun

Shine on upon the severed
Shine until the two become one

Divided I wither away
Divided I wither away

Shine down upon the many
Light our way benevolent sun

Breathe in union
Breathe in union
Breathe in union
Breathe in union
Breathe in union
So
As one
Survive
Another day
And season

Silence leach
And save your poison
Silence leach
And stay out of my way

-Tool

Bogus Cocktail Books

Somebody recently asked me how to spot a lousy cocktail book. The Cocktail Handbook, by Maria Contantino is but one example of such a book, and I thought it might be amusing to make fun on it.

Since I’m no newcomer to cocktails, I typically skip past the first part of books that tell you what to buy and how to use it and delve straight into the recipes. This book, however, doesn’t use ounces to measure the cocktails- it just says 1 measure, etc. But she’s not strictly using ratios either, as she’ll then slip in a teaspoon of something. So I had to go back to the beginning part of the book to find out what she thinks a “measure” is. It turns out in Maria’s world, one measure=25ml. I have no idea what a ml is, but no problem- I have a computer handy. It turns on 25 ml is equal to 0.845350 fluid ounces. Wow, thanks. That’s REAL useful. Strangely, I don’t have anything that measures 0.845350 fluid ounces lying around. She goes onto suggest once you get as good as her you won’t need to measure at all. I see what’s going on- she has no idea what amounts she uses. Whatever, the measurements in recipes are always wrong anyway, so I’ll just figure them out myself.

While perusing the front section, I couldn’t help but notice she neglected to explain how to use a shaker.

The book is separated into sections with drinks using the same base spirit, and I much prefer this to wholly alphabetized cocktail books. The first section is gin, and the first cocktail is the Bennet. I know this one! (It’s not as good as a Pegu Club.) But wait, check this out- her recipe is 2 measures gin, 2/3 measure lime juice, 1/3 measure sugar syrup and 1 dash bitters. Okay, so what’s 1/3 of 0.845350 fluid ounces? I already know it’s supposed to be 1 tsp, so why the unnecessary complication (especially since she uses teaspoon elsewhere)? I’ll stop harping on it.

Her instructions throughout the book are to shake with ice cubes instead of cracked ice. She must be a vigorous shaker.

Her 26 gin drinks are extremely basic and boring. A lot of gin and citrus juice combinations. Also a lot of what I call “genre” drinks: Gin Collins, Gin Daisy, Gin Fizz, Gin Rickey, Gin Sling, Gin Swizzle…. For a book entitled the The Cocktail Handbook, these are sure a lot of drinks other than cocktails. Her martini is acceptable. There were three gin drinks mentioned that I hadn’t tried. The Pink Pussycat was stupid. The Grass Skirt called for the drink to be shaken and poured unstrained into an old-fashioned glass, which no self-respecting bartender would do (you put fresh ice cubes into the glass and strain out the mostly-melted cracked ones). The Honolulu looked interesting, so I started making it- only to realize she was asking for ¼ teaspoon of three juices instead of ¼ ounce which was obviously what was meant. So I ignored the book (also using 1.5 ounces of gin instead of 1.5 measures or 1.268025 ounces) and the drink turned out pretty good, if a little boring.

Not having any rum, I paid less attention to the rum recipes and started reading the short drink descriptions. Turns out, they aren’t descriptions at all; simply conjectures on the drink name’s origin and punny plays on their names. These could have all been written without having tried the drink. The most descriptive she gets is “orange-and-cinnamon flavored” for a drink containing rum, sweet vermouth, orange and cinnamon. She’s a damn poet.

In the vodka section I come across the third drink containing grapefruit juice, and the third time I’ve read something like “This is the best way to drink grapefruit juice!” She seems to be under the impression that grapefruit juice is extremely sour, which is odd. She also often writes, “Try it and see what you think.” I suspect this author is a teetotaler. She couldn’t think of a way to comment on the name Volga so she didn’t write anything.

The whisky section continues with the stupidity. She doesn’t know that all bourbon uses sour mash. Here’s the description for the Thunderclap, an appalling beverage: “Too many of these, and that’s what a pin dropping will sound like!” I want to punch this lady in the face. She continues with the genre beverages- the highball, the sour, the squirt….

There is a drink in the tequila section called the Doralto that is simply outstanding. This one recipe (which I altered only slightly) suddenly makes this book worth purchasing.

I also discovered a decent and heretofore unknown tequila-based drink in the Poker Face. (She fails to correctly describe how to build a highball, but my standards are so low at this point I almost didn’t mention it.) The author claims gold tequila has been aged 2-4 years, when in actuality it is un-aged (silver) tequila with yellow food coloring. (The intention of gold tequila is for gringos to mistake it for reposado tequila, which is aged from 2 to 11 months.) I also created a decent drink by changing the Icebreaker recipe completely.

I can barely go on- the ludicrous Tequila Moonrise is described as: “After the sun goes down, up comes the moon!” She is fond of exclamatory comments. The Operator is “A great ginger-wine flavor!” The ingredients? White wine, ginger ale, lime juice.

New gripe: Extremely similar cocktails in the same book. The Sidecar AND the Tantalus? The Negroni AND the Americano (even after she mentions the similarilty)? (I had already forgiven the Martini, Gibson, Kangaroo trilogy).

In the champagne section there suddenly pops out a drink that the author has actually tried: the Bamboo. Or at any rate she gives an opinion on it. Curiously, for this drink, she’s suddenly keen on pointing out that the mixing glass and cocktail glass should be chilled, which is true of ALL cocktails. I’d try it if I had sherry.

Mercifully, the book ends. With the Yellowjacket, a boring mocktail combination of fruit juices, described thusly: “A yellowjacket is a type of wasp, so be prepared for quite a sharp ‘sting’ of a drink!”

Stinkfist

Something has to change
Undeniable dilemma
Boredom's not a burden
Anyone should bear

Constant over-stimulation numbs me
but I would not want you
Any other way

‘Cause:
It's not enough
I need more
Nothing seems to satisfy
I said
I don't want it
I just need it
To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive

Finger deep within the borderline
Show me that you love me and that we belong together
Relax, turn around and take my hand

I can help you change
Tired moments into pleasure
Say the word and we'll be
Well upon our way

Blend and balance
Pain and comfort
Deep within you
‘Til you will not want me any other way

But:
It's not enough
I need more
Nothing seems to satisfy
I said
I don't want it
I just need it
To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive

Knuckle deep inside the borderline
This may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to
Relax, slip away….

Something kinda sad about
The way that things have come to be
Desensitized to everything
What became of subtlety?

How can this mean anything to me
If I really don't feel anything at all?

I'LL KEEP DIGGING
‘TIL I FEEL SOMETHING

Elbow deep inside the borderline
Show me that you love me and that we belong together
Shoulder deep within the borderline
Relax, turn around and take my hand

-Tool

Dopplegangers

There exists people on this planet, I’d daresay on this selfsame street even, with whom I share literally nothing in common.

It is not at all difficult to imagine a tall, blonde, overweight, unimaginative, uninterested, conservative, religious, dim-witted, gullible, insecure, unhappy, credulous, bullying, patriotic, materialistic, image-conscious, married female who not only procreates but enjoys kids, prefers piss beer to whiskey, cosmopolitans to martinis (or doesn't drink), eats hamburgers and hot dogs with ketchup, can't stand spicy or ethnic foods, loves shopping and crowds and coffee shops, accumulates excessive debt, indulges in pedicures, goes out clubbing and dancing, reads romance novels, listens to pop music, follows football, watches television- especially American comedies, finds fake boobs and excessive make-up attractive, thinks mascots are cute, prefers dogs to cats, hates camping, is racist and homophobic, thinks jazz music is a bunch of racket, finds museums boring, enjoys small talk and fears death.

No, it is not surprising that the exact opposite of me exists, although I have to admit it is a little disturbing that the opposite of me describes about 30% of Americans.

The Lower Depths

It might seem a pointless exercise to attempt to compare one of the greatest French film directors, Jean Renoir, with of the greatest Japanese film directors, Akira Kurosawa. There are barely a handful of directors in the history of cinema whose names would be worthy to be mentioned alongside these two.

Through some magical twist of fate, both of these geniuses made a movie based upon a play of Russian writer Maxim Gorky, entitled The Lower Depths (1902). Both directors re-wrote the play to adapt it to their respective cultures. It gets better. Renoir’s version stars one of the greatest actors of all time, Jean Gabin, while Kurosawa’s version stars THE greatest actor of all time, Toshiro Mifune. This is EPIC. Ali vs. Frasier. Page vs. Gibson. Montana vs. Marino. Roll film.

Renoir’s The Lower Depths (1936) focuses on Jean Gabin’s character, who is, above all, honest. And a thief. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s shagging the flophouse landlord’s wife. He also doesn’t hide the fact that he prefers the sister of the landlord’s wife. The single fantastic scene in this movie is when Gabin breaks into the house of a baron who has just gambled away everything he owns and inadvertently interrupts the baron from killing himself. The two become fast friends.

None of the first part of the movie is in Gorky’s play. But then, just when you think this is going to be an intriguing and original movie, the Maxim Gorky play starts. All of a sudden, a bunch of characters are introduced that we don't give a rat’s ass about. We want to watch Gabin teach the baron the ways of a thief. Instead, the baron character withers into the background.

Jean Renoir doesn’t understand being poor. He finds poor people intriguing and tries to romanticize them, but it comes off like some bad Dickens adaptation. Some lady dies and we are left thinking, who cares? Gabin escapes with his preferred girl in the end.

Kurosawa’s The Lower Depths (1957) never leaves the poorhouse. It is about lies. Everybody’s lies. The pain, desperation and stress of being poor, and that it can happen to anyone, is all here. The balance of bickering and comaraderie between a disparate group of close-quartered individuals is perfect. The acting is great all around, and despite the presence of Mifune, there is no main character. Kurosawa is the best there is at handling several actors, all acting independently, onscreen simultaneously. This version of The Lower Depths basically kicks Renoir to the curb. The ending of this movie is beauty beyond sublime, and I’m not giving anything away to say Mifune’s character ends up alone in prison. A definite must-see.

Swiss Cheese Solution

The problem:



The solution:

Dancing

Dancing is one of those things I don't AT ALL like to do in public, to the consternation of many. Like yoga, it is specifically designed to humiliate stiff and awkward people like myself. Making an ass of yourself with witnesses just isn't very fun.

It seems the only people that would want to dance are exhibitionists, alpha males and males and females attracted to alpha males. Or perhaps I'm missing the point entirely.

I've gone dancing once or twice and even taken some dance lessons; basically because I can be a sucker for cute girls and will try most things once. But the last time some random girl asked me to dance, at one of those lame-band music festivals, I cooly responded, "I don't dance," before taking a swig from my flask. She quickly left me the hell alone.

Swing dancing is an especially irritating form of exercise. The tango lessons were alright, but I would advise not to take beginner tango lessons with a girl who has been obsessed with dancing her entire life AND has been to Argentina.

I can do a pretty good impression of Pee Wee Herman's dance from Pee Wee's Big Adventure.

Haiti

Surely everybody knows that Haiti, one of the poorest countries in the world, was recently decimated by an earthquake. Natural disasters have been a thorn in the side of those who believe in an all-loving god for millennia. The question arises: “How can a loving god allow bad things?”

First and foremost, I don’t believe in anything being unequivocally good or bad. Sure, a bunch of people were killed and buildings destroyed in Haiti, but the jaded eye also sees an overpopulation fix and job creator.

The idea of an unequivocally good god is extremely problematic. All of the actions of such a being would have to be for the good of all, at least in the long run. This immediately rules out the Christian god, who has threatened to eternally torture those who don’t submit their wills to him, so you’d have to modify it to: the good of all who submit their wills to Him, if you want to defend that particular god. You’d also have to argue that every act of destruction was absolutely necessary in order to bring about the eventual good of all. Of course, even an all-loving god could do bad things as a result of mistakes or failed tests, as he wouldn’t necessarily be all-knowing. (Testing our resolve, etc. in order to teach us would be included in having to be absolutely necessary.) Similarly, he wouldn't necessarily be all-powerful, so events could be out of an all-loving god's control. Finally, you’d have to argue that the end justified the means.

I often hear, “You can’t know good unless you experience bad.” I don’t think anybody who says this has ever been in a natural disaster. This is akin to saying you don’t know hot water until you’ve experienced cold water or something. It just doesn’t apply to the real world. Nobody in the history of the universe has ever said, “I just didn’t realize how great my life was until being raped really put it in perspective.”

I’ve heard that good things “balance” bad things. Natural disasters have no opposite. I suppose the closest you can get would be a miracle, and thousands of people have never been suddenly healed by some naturally occurring happenstance.

Several of my facebook friends posted ways of donating money to Haiti recovery. To demonstrate the conundrum of justifying beliefs in the face of reality, I think it’s worth pointing out that only ONE of my Christian friends even mentioned it, unless you count the pastor who posted, “God is doing big things!” the next day. Two of my facebook friends were part of fundraisers. The Christian radio station fundraiser in Texas raised a ton of money. The comedy club fundraisers in San Francisco’s gay district were also successful.

On a tangential note, I often hear, “My reality has been shattered” as if that’s a negative. Why do people want to hold on to their delusions?

Estate Sale Sundays

A few years back, I decided to start a blog. The idea came to me while driving around on a Saturday while doing what I call garage-sale hopping. This is when you drive around a neighborhood chasing garage sale signs. It is a mostly futile endeavor, but somehow satisfying nonetheless. I thought it might be funny to write about these weekend exploits. But that never happened.

Even better than garage sales are estate sales. I have a morbid curiosity in seeing what people spent their lives collecting. Mostly Christmas decorations, it turns out. On Sundays, most estate sales sell everything half price. Today, like most Sunday mornings, I went to http://www.estatesale-finder.com/ to see what was going on. There turned out to be several estate sales happening very near to each other, so I wrote down addresses, numbered them according to the route I’d take, and set out in my pickup. Five estate sales and three garage sales later I had scored one full but opened vintage bottle of Trader Vic’s Pomegranate Grenadine Syrup with the classic pin-up girl label for $1.75.



Score! I don’t know exactly what year it’s from or if it’ll still be any good, but who cares? This particular grenadine isn't supposed to be any good anyway.

At one estate sale, I witnessed a girl picking up a Boston shaker and saying, "We should get one of these!" The reply? "What is that?" Wow; different strokes....

My route led me past Village Merchants, on SE Division and 34th, so I stopped there, too. I always hope they’ll have these specific chairs I’ve been searching for. Turns out they had two short stemmed cocktail glasses that match a pair I already own for $1.50 apiece.



These are “double” cocktail glasses that hold more than the 6 ounce capacity of a normal cocktail glass. They come in handy if the recipe calls for more than 4 ounces of ingredients plus (melted) ice. I like short-stemmed glasses because they fit in the door of the freezer, so I can serve cocktails in properly chilled glasses. Don’t get those cocktail glasses with balls instead of stems. I bought four and broke all of them within six months.

After rolling my eyes at a garage sale with some old guy trying to sell bulk Costco goods, I couldn’t resist the urge to go to my favorite Goodwill, in southeast on 7th near Division. I almost immediately found yet another Glencairn scotch glass!



These sell for $20 new or 99 cents at Goodwill. I spent probably 30 minutes scouring through the enormous glassware section hoping to find a mate with no luck. I have seven of these now, five of which were purchased from Goodwill. I’ll admit that only the two I purchased new are crystal. I passed on a nice crystal tasting copita that they wanted $1.99 for. I already have four of them that I never use.

One thing you learn when you’ve been to Goodwill as many times as I have is that they don’t know the difference between a whiskey snifter and a candle holder. Sure enough, I found a round-bottom chimney-shaped glass in with the votives that is a mate for one I found at another Goodwill several months ago. It was also 99 cents.



I actually haven’t used this style of glass yet, but I have become rather fond of the round-bottom glasses, both because you can keep your whiskey stirred while on a table and because they freak everyone out. (In case you’re interested, there are currently two round-bottom old-fashioned glasses in with the votives at the Lombard Goodwill by my place.) You’d have to be suicidal to put a candle in a round-bottom glass.

Similarly, Goodwill employees often put decanters in with vases. I found a very nice wine decanter today, but passed on it because I already have one and am holding out for a Riedel.

At the same Goodwill, I also found a never been used, still in the box ice shaver for $4.99. I’ve been wanting one for making mint juleps in the summer, but usually you find kid ones in the shapes of annoying Disney or Peanuts characters, and you can’t remove the blade to clean or sharpen it.



Well, that’s it. I spent 4 hours and $11.72 shopping today and didn’t get anything that wasn’t alcohol related.

Balance

Last night, while talking with Ann and Sandy, I suggested the following: “The consensus is that I talk too much and she doesn’t talk enough.” This was met with the inevitable response: “Maybe you could help each other find a balance.” My reaction: “Screw that! I like being extreme. We don’t want balance.” And with that, I punched Aristotle right in the face.

Granted; balance is not as overrated as peace. It has its place; in a cocktail, for example. I suppose you could say I enjoy balance in moderation. But consider how boring “balance” generally is. Symmetry, average, repetition. It’s immediately obvious that most people desire and even depend on these things. Comfort is another similarly categorized idea that others venerate. Contrarily, my passion is serendipitously finding something I love and then exploring it by obsessing over all the unfamiliar it contains. I tend to love that which is anomalous, inexplicable or even shocking. I don’t rest on laurels or seek comfort. I’m far too impatient and curious to ever be idle.

Others like to preach about bad balancing good or whatnot. I don’t even believe in unequivocal goodness or badness, let alone that they could somehow neutralize each other. I appreciate the difficult times because they give me the most to learn from; not because they somehow balance out the most enjoyable times. That argument is absurd enough that I’ll plan on devoting another blog post to it soon.

Compromise has its place, but I don’t think it should be demanded or expected. It would be a tragedy for anyone to get their way all of the time and miss out on all the unknown and unexpected life has to offer. I enjoy surprising myself by participating in adventures that I wouldn’t have chosen to do if it were only up to me. But I’m not going to continue to do things I don’t enjoy or disregard my own opinion. I’m not going to water myself down in an attempt to become more palatable to others. I refuse to go out of my way to convince anyone to like me. I don’t want others to dislike me, either. I’m just not going to pretend to agree or passively participate in anything. I won’t rely on someone else to form my opinions. I’ve observed that most tip-toe through life too afraid to even try to form their own opinions.

Most seem to either want to change you or want you to change them. I’m not like most. I much prefer being whoever and whatever I feel like being and letting others do the same. I expect little other than honesty. My love is unconditional, and has no balance whatsoever. Love might be the willingness to do anything for another and, in return, expecting only to be allowed to express that love. Extreme.

Cocktails Continued

My explorations into cocktails and single malt Scotch whisky continue. While I have dedicated another blog to the latter, I feel like in order to keep it un-muddied I should discuss cocktails on this one. Maybe that’s a mistake since people interested in alcoholic beverages will be more likely to be reading the other one. Blog writing conundrum!

Today we call pretty much any mixed drink a cocktail, although we tend to think of cocktails as drinks served up (the ice is strained) in a cocktail glass. This wasn’t always the case. A cocktail used to refer only to a mixed drink containing a spirit, sugar, bitters and water (ice) served up in cocktail glass. Besides cocktails, there are also avenues, brambles, bucks, collins, crustas, cups, daisies, fancies, fixes, fizzes, flips, highballs, pousse cafés, rickeys, shrubs, slings, sours, swizzles, toddies and who knows what else. You should at least understand what a pousse café, highball and toddy is, although frankly the only point of a pousse café is that it’s pretty. (You are currently on the internet; do I really need to teach you everything?)

In the past year, I have delved more thoroughly into Italian, or sweet, vermouth, which, in my last post on this topic, I assumed was pretty much gross unless used appropriately as a mixer. Currently, perhaps the only remaining must-try in this category is the highly-touted Carpano Antica. Interestingly, it is made by the same people who make the Italian vermouth I have settled upon: Punt E Mes. There are those that will immediately question whether Punt E Mes can be called sweet vermouth. Honestly, I don’t know what entails qualifying as “sweet vermouth,” but Punt E Mes is vermouth from Italy that tastes like other sweet vermouths, only a bit more savory. Incidentally, I also include red Dubonnet in the vermouth category, although a not very good one. Yves is another excellent sweet vermouth.

I still stand by Noilly Pratt as THE French, or dry, vermouth, readily acknowledging that I biasedly consider it to be what dry vermouth SHOULD taste like. Remember to keep vermouth refrigerated.

I’ve explored some more cherry liqueurs, and Clear Creek’s kirshwasser is yummy and bounding with cocktail potential. Luxardo’s maraschino liqueur is a must have, irregardless of the obnoxious tall bottle wrapped in straw. At this point, I kind of think Cherry Heering is gross. Although my current bottle is nearly empty, I doubt I’ll buy another.

I am not afraid of flips, or cocktails made with egg, although I’m convinced that any recipe calling for egg yolk is simply a joke or a dare. I tried one- disgusting. Albumen (egg white for the Neanderthals), however, can add a delicious froth to a drink. Always use a small egg or it’ll overwhelm. (I might be the only person in the grocery store who picks through looking for the smallest eggs.) My favorite flip is the Ramos Fizz (recipe below), but other excellent flips include the Pisco Sour, Flying High, St. Germain (different from the liqueur), the original Pink Lady and Million Dollar cocktails.

The point of cocktails, as far as I’m concerned, is to create a gestalt, whereby the sum of the ingredients is totally different from any of the ingredients themselves. This requires a perfect balance where one ingredient does not overwhelm the others. Otherwise the cocktail will end up tasting the same as drinking one ingredient straight. For this reason, one must become familiar with what each ingredient tastes like. Most people have no idea even what gin tastes like.

Fernet Branca and St. Germain are two excellent liqueurs that can be overpowering. The former is mint-y and the latter is flower-y. As with Benedictine and absinthe, you want to cut way back on what most recipes call for, even so far as to simply rinse the glass with them and pour out any excess. People will do this with vermouth too, but vermouth has more subtlety to it and gets lost if you use too little. I suspect most people use crappy vermouth and therefore bury it on purpose.

Up until last week, they didn’t sell an apricot brandy in Portland. After requesting it at Pearl Specialty Market & Spirits at the base of the Broadway bridge on NW Lovejoy (the best place in this town to find liqueurs and also the only liquor store open on Sundays) they got in some Marie Brizzard’s Apry. This is one of many reasons why I can’t stand the liquor store I live across the street from- they scoff at me when I request a product. Too bad for them, considering I’ve been spending thousands a year at other liquor stores. Anyway, my initial reaction is that it is intensely sweet! I’ll have to expound later.

I’ve also recently tried a bunch of tonics, and my favorite is made by Fever-Tree. I still want to learn to make my own. I was disappointed in the tonic made by Stirrings. In fact, the only thing that company makes that’s any good in their grenadine.

Fee Brothers is another disappointing modern company making a variety of lackluster bitters. A German company called The Bitter Truth is the one whose products everyone raves about, but you can’t get it in Oregon. I’ll have to figure out how to buy their stuff online.

Fruit and citrus juices are often nice to have in a cocktail, not only because of the obvious flavor, but also because they act to dilute the drink. Toward the end of the night, I definitely lean toward cocktails with more juice. Always remember that some cocktails are alcohol+alcohol+alcohol. That little bottle of Angostura bitters is 44.7% alcohol/volume. Fancy citrus like meyer lemons and key limes are worthless for cocktail making. I need not reiterate- use fresh-squeezed! I recently spent a week dedicated exclusively to grapefruit and concluded it only works with vodka and in highballs. Pineapple juice (which I don’t squeeze but use 100% juice not from concentrate) is much more versatile.

I want a SodaStream soda machine in hopes that it’ll change my negative opinion of carbonated beverages. But it’s $80.

A personal bias: don’t eat the garnish. It is meant to subtlety enhance the flavor of the drink. This is sometimes psychological; that’s the reason for a celery stalk in a Bloody Mary. The lime wheel on the Doralto described below works the same. Once you understand that the drink has a celery flavor (from the celery salt in the case of the former) or a lime flavor (but no actual lime in the case of the latter), et cetera, I say it’s fine to forego this type of garnish altogether.

One author in a book supposedly about cocktails announced that he had never figured out what a "twist" was, but concluded it didn't matter as it didn't affect the drink. He could not be further from the truth. A citrus twist is added by cutting a long swath of rind, holding the colored side down (pulp side up) over the glass and breaking it in half, spraying rind zest onto the drink. The rind slice is then discarded.

I’ve possibly tried thousands of cocktails, and have found that most of them suck. Also, most books on the subject are total bullshit. I could fill a blog of ignorant stuff I’ve read from them. I whole-heartedly believe the ingredient ratios of most cocktail books have been sabotaged so that the bartender’s drink remains better than the one you make at home. I am pretty good at spotting the flaws and fixing them before I make a drink. Recipes tend to default to equal parts; however I can’t think of ANY cocktail that actually should be equal parts. If that is what the recipe calls for, I assume the author has never made it or else has something to hide, which is better than taking their word for it and tasting something terrible. Another tell-tale sign they‘ve never tried it is if the author’s description of the drink is nothing but a pun on the name. Another funny thing about cocktail recipe books: sweeter drinks meant for the feminine persuasion are often measured relative to the pony (1 oz) while “stronger” drinks are measured relative to the jigger (1.5 oz).
Fortunately the best cocktail book I’ve discovered is also one of the first I came across, Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails. Two classic and sometimes useful cocktail books written for bartenders are The Savoy Cocktail Book and Patrick Gavin Duffy’s The Standard Bartender’s Guide. The website CocktailDB.com is a useful resource.

Also, contrary to what everyone tells you, most liqueurs are not worth buying. In order to save you thousands of dollars and a few headaches, I’ll let you know my top ten favorite cocktails, replete with my preferred brands and perfected ratios.

1) Widow’s Kiss
This is probably my favorite cocktail, but I have a bias toward green chartreuse. I’ve described the Widow’s Kiss as an amusing horror-story in liquid form.

2 oz Laird’s applejack
¾ oz green chartreuse
1 tsp Benedictine
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish with dark cherry

2) Pink Gin
Probably the cocktail I drink the most, in part because it’s easy to make but mostly because it is awesome. I get panicky when my Plymouth gin gets low, as this cocktail cannot be made without it.

3 oz Plymouth gin
½ tsp + 1 dash Angostura bitters
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

3) Roll’s Royce
Tastes like fermented oranges, which makes me want to ferment oranges.

1.5 oz Hennessy
¾ oz fresh-squeezed orange juice
¾ oz Cointreau
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish with proper orange twist

4) Doralto
Refreshing and delicious. Easily my favorite tequila drink (the margarita ranks third).

1.5 oz 1800 Reposado tequila
1 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp sugar (1 sugar cube)
1 dash Angostura bitters
Shake with cracked ice; strain into old-fashioned glass 2/3 filled with ice. Top with tonic water.
Garnish with lime wheel

5) Martini
3 oz London dry gin
½-¾ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
Stirred with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass.
Garnish with proper lemon twist (to bring out gin) or olive (to bring out vermouth).

My favorite gin for martinis might be Tanqueray Ten, although I’ve taken to only purchasing Plymouth and Boodles gin recently. I can’t stand the likes of Hendricks or Bombay sapphire. Shaking this drink makes it cloudy and waters it down too much (unless you are employed as a spy, apparently). No dirty (adding more than one olive or olive juice) martinis or kangaroos (vodka-tinis)! They are both disgusting.

6) Honeymoon
This drink tastes like honey, although that’s not an ingredient. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t love this beverage.

1.5 oz Boulard Calvados or Laird’s applejack. (The latter is much cheaper and more versatile in cocktails, although the former tastes better straight, has more complexity and might work a little better in this drink.)
½ oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
2 tsp Cointreau
1 tsp Benedictine
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

7) Pegu Club
This could be considered a variation on a margarita. I’m surprised it’s not more popular.

1.5 oz Boodles gin
¾ oz Cointreau
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
1½ dashes Angostura bitters
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

8) Vesper
This recipe is detailed in the first James Bond novel, Casino Royale. After he’s betrayed by the heroine and the drink’s namesake (sorry to spoil the ending), he vows to never drink one again. A shame, especially considering he went on to help popularize the ruination of the martini.

1.5 oz Boodles gin
1 oz Stoli vodka
½ oz Lillet Blanc
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish with proper lemon twist

9) Ramos Fizz
The only drink I’ve found with so many ingredients that still works. Beyond that; it’s fabulous and well worth the effort. The best compliment to Thai food ever! This is a generously proportioned drink and will only fit into a large or Boston shaker.

2 oz Boodles gin
1 egg white
½ oz lime juice
½ oz lemon juice
½ oz cream
2 dashes orange-flower water
1 tsp sugar
Shake VIGOROUSLY with cracked ice for several minutes; strain into old-fashioned glass
Add splash of soda
Garnish with mint sprig

10) 20th Century
This is a dessert-style drink. It is delicately balanced, and if all the ratios aren’t exact it falls apart. But when it’s right, it creates a curious complexity that seems to unravel layer by layer in your mouth.

1.5 oz Boodles gin
¾ oz Lillet Blanc
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp crème de cacao
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish with proper lemon twist

Honorable Mention: Hot Toddy
It seems most don’t even know what a toddy is, which makes me wonder what people are drinking all winter. The classic whiskey toddy is: 1.5 oz bourbon (I use Weller’s Reserve), lemon wheel studded with cloves and 1 teaspoon honey topped with hot water. To this I add 1 dash Angostura bitters and 1 teaspoon Cointreau.

Honorable Mention: Sidecar
This is a great drink that the Rolls Royce surely derived from.

1.5 oz Hennessy
¾ oz Cointreau
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
Shake with cracked ice; strain into sugar-coated cocktail glass
Garnish with proper lemon twist

Honorable Mention: Maiden’s Prayer
Another drink, like the Pegu Club and Sidecar, that follows the margarita thread. (Margarita: 1.5 ounce 1800 reposado tequila, ¾ ounce Cointreau, ¾ ounce fresh-squeezed lime juice; shaken and strained into salt-rimmed cocktail glass.)

1.5 ounce Boodles gin
1.5 ounce Cointreau
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
¾ oz fresh-squeezed orange juice
Shake with cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass


This cocktail list is in no way comprehensive. Duh.

Alone

Most might not fathom or realize that I spend nearly 90% of my time alone. I work alone, live alone, sleep alone, eat alone, entertain alone, etc. I don’t intend this as a complaint; I mean it as a frame of reference regarding my state of existence, not my quality of being. I enjoy having alone time. Recently, on yet another occasion when someone was chastising me for belittling Christianity, it was stated that I must be miserable to be so bitter or whatever. (My major qualm with Christianity, besides the sheer ludicrousness of the religion itself, is that it wrecks havoc on American political decisions.) I replied that I live a very happy life. The person responded, “I doubt it.” What kind of screwed-up reaction is that? On the contrary, I am impervious to the depression that seems to haunt most people.

My solitude is somewhat by choice and somewhat imposed. I will admit I sometimes get paranoid that everybody is ignoring me when in actually they are just busy or whatnot. I forget that others have commitments and such. Also, most of the people I’d spend time with don’t live nearby. Almost everyone in Portland hibernates for the winter, anyway. Seriously.

Most people annoy me. They’re not nearly as interesting as they esteem themselves to be. I don’t have a lot in common with the masses. Never have. Further, I don’t pretend to, which really pisses some off. I find small-talk mostly boring. I find polite conversation mostly boring. I lack the ability to mutely ignore ignorant or disagreeable comments. I can be especially abrasive to those who don’t know me, and my friends know this. I’ve always been a moody person anyway, but sometimes the shock of having to interact socially with ignoramuses is a bit much.

Okay, I’ve bored myself with this topic. Talk to you later.

Tearing Down

“Find sum1/thing U love & stand 4 it instead tearing others down.”

A friend recently re-posted this barely-legible request as their Facebook update. I do not know the original context or motivation behind this statement. However, that will not stop me from ignoring the request and performing a deconstruction of the sentence worthy of Derrida. (I am only trying to be funny here- I haven’t read Derrida in years and am not going to intentionally emulate his approach.)

1) “Find someone or something you love…”

The presumption of this statement is audacious. Anyone who has ever loved knows that one does not choose to love. It is something that happens. How dare anyone command one to love? Perhaps it is simply meant as an encouragement to explore. In order to find something, there must be a quest, which is usually accomplished through research and experience. Should one really find out whether they love, say, smashing skulls with baseball bats?

The writer doesn’t seem to care who or what is loved. Apparently, simply loving is enough; even if the thing loved is Satan or child molestation. (Yes, I also have a problem with the Beatles song, All You Need Is Love.)

The singular nature of the request is annoying to me. I seriously feel sorry for anyone that only loves one person or thing. I feel truly blessed to love so many and so much. Also, I’ll admit a bias against anything that smells of totalitarianism or monotheism.

2) “…and stand for it instead (of) tearing others down.”

Can one stand for one thing without refuting or being able to refute what is contrary? Possibly. But consider my perspective: I love my girlfriend, and consequently have strong instincts to protect her. If anyone dared bully her or whatnot, you can guarantee I will tear that person down to the best of my ability. This is my love expressing itself. Are you asking for love to be passive and inactive? I question the mutual exclusivity of the two halves of the statement. Can’t the one thing I love be tearing others down?

More importantly, why be opposed to opposition? Most people seem incredibly threatened by anything contrary to what they already believe. Perhaps this is because they know their beliefs are ill-researched and unjustifiable. Nobody confident in their ability to rationally defend their beliefs fears alternative opinions. People tend to believe what they want to believe, which is usually very different than what is true. Most find the truth insulting and annoying.

Perhaps the author is simply asking that one not insult another. I agree that name-calling is counter-productive. But I am exhausted with everyone wanting to live their lives wearing rose-colored glasses, hearing only that which they already agree with and avoiding the rest. Another friend’s recent re-posted update post is:

“Determine to listen to life-giving voices & ignore life-sapping voices with wisdom to know the difference!”

I don’t see how it takes any wisdom to tell the difference between things you want to and don’t want to hear, but I digress. I understand not wanting to be overwhelmed by the evils of this world, but there seems to be a common assumption that everything other than one’s own life and beliefs is negative, bad or evil and therefore best to be avoided.

There are obviously occasions where what one loves has nothing to do with what another loves and so argument is pointless, but in America, the opinions of the majority does influence my existence in multiple ways. The buying public influences the availability of consumer goods and the voters decide on politicians and laws. The biggest influence on the majority’s opinions and beliefs in any society is religion, followed by media and then advertising. The only people begging that things not be torn down are those content and in agreement with the status quo.

I am not part of the status quo. I am therefore forced to express and defend my own beliefs in order to hope and to enjoy human existence, which oftentimes requires tearing down that which is contrary. So I will continue to impose my logic whether you like it or not, thank you very much.

Revived

I have been spending the past several months pretending to teach myself how to write fiction. It has been a slow-going and easily procrastinated task. All of my stories somehow end up too perverted, violent or disturbing to add to this blog.

Suddenly, I have the urge to switch back to my familiar blog rants. I have just listed 11 topics, some of which will inevitably be abandoned or consolidated. There will probably be a whole lot of bitching going on, and my next installment will cover precisely that. So stay tuned, I am back in business….