Disc Golf Review, Part 1: Disc Selection

I somehow lucked into finding a girlfriend who, like myself, enjoys playing disc golf. When we met, she had used an Innova Gazelle in the past but no longer had it, so I gave her my 168 gram Innova Leopard and 172 gram Skeeter. The Skeeter had become too understable for me, and I had never liked the Leopard, but she seemed to be able to throw both fairly straight almost from the start. I had her try others, but she threw those two the best.

I started playing disc golf three or four years ago, most weekends with a friend who threw forehand (FH) and only used a Discraft Cyclone and Magnet. I throw almost exclusively backhand (BH), although I’d learned how to flick (synonym for forehand) at mid-ranges last year as I was finding myself deep in the woods a lot and you can’t throw a backhand when surrounded by branches or have a tree right in front of you. The first driver I’d been able to throw straight was a 172 gram Innova Sidewinder, then Beasts at gradually increasing weights from 162 to 170 and now I was using a 167 gram Discraft Surge, but had recently purchased a 168 gram Avenger. Someone had shown me how to grip a disc last year, but that is about all I’d bothered to learn about the sport.

For her birthday, I decided to get my girlfriend a driver that would fly further than the Leopard. I went to a store, and after staring at hundreds of options, dropped $18 on the latest and greatest disc- advertised as a super-fast distance driver for beginners- a Discraft Nuke SS. When I got it home, I decided to get some opinions on what I’d just purchased. I found a relevant website at www.discgolfreview.com (DGR), but it didn’t seem to have been updated for a few years so didn’t include the Nuke series discs. It took a strange amount of further exploration before I discovered that this same website had a forum section full of people discussing all manner of disc golf in a relatively intelligent manner. Actually, the reason I didn’t find it sooner is because I had previously perused another forum on discgolfcoursereview.com (DGCR), which is THE site for finding courses in the United States, but the discussions are rather silly and juvenile, and I didn’t realize they weren’t the same forum.

The first thing I discovered was the Nuke SS was unanimously panned. I educated myself on the difference in disc rim widths, which I hadn’t really considered before. The disc with the largest rim I had tried was the Orc, which took a drastic nose-dive whenever I tried to throw it. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one who had this issue with this disc, but others swore by the Orc, insisting one only needed to keep the nose down on it. It took me some further reading to discover that “nose down” was divergent from the disc’s angle of ascent.

In airplane terminology, nose angle is called “pitch,” and keeping the pitch from being angled up is essential for getting a long, straight backhand or forehand throw. Every newbie I’ve ever seen throws with the nose too high, causing the disc to “spike-” or “knife-hyzer.” This is when, on a RHBH throw, the disc goes up in the air, banks left, and crashes back down. (A RHFH throw will bank right.) Until a thrower can keep the nose down on a disc, it really doesn’t matter much what model of disc is thrown.

While several companies make disc golf discs, the most popular are Innova, Discraft, Discmania, Millennium, Gateway, MVP, Latitude 64 and DGA. There are others, including Vibram and Prodiscus, whose products I have never used. With so many choices, it becomes quickly evident why purchasing a disc is daunting. The most knowledgeable member of discgolfreview.com is named Blake Takkunen. He has compiled a comprehensive chart that compares the flight characteristics of hundreds of discs from many companies. It is called Joe’s Universal Flight Chart and can be found at http://www.gottagogottathrow.com. The only other chart I know of that compares the discs of different companies side by side is by Marshall Street (http://www.marshallstreetdiscgolf.com). Both of these projects were funded by online disc retailers in an ingenious effort to assist shoppers and attract traffic.

Banking left or right is called “roll” in a pilot’s world, but in disc golf, the tendency of a disc to roll is the real important factor, and is called stability. The design of the disc will cause it to behave in a range of stabilities. A disc which resists roll is considered “stable,” while discs which roll to the left on a RHBH throw are “overstable” and those that roll to the right are “understable.” Highly overstable discs are considered “beefy” or “piggish,” and understable discs are “flippy.”

You can also create roll by angling the disc when you throw it. Angling a disc with the side opposite the grip location tilted down and therefore banking to the left on a RHBH throw is called “hyzer.” Anhyzer, the antonym of hyzer, refers to angling the disc with the side opposite the grip location tilted up to encourage roll to the right on a RHBH throw, and that understable movement is called “turnover” or “flip.” One useful technique is to throw an understable disc at a hyzer angle so that it flips to horizontal and consequently flies straight. This is called a “hyzer flip.”

Discs are also designed within a tolerance of how forcefully they are to be thrown, measured in terms of “speed,” and the best speed to choose primarily depends on the distance to the basket. Blake’s chart calls speed “power,” and helpfully provides the distance a nose-down disc should travel under normal conditions at each power rating to behave according to his stability measurements. The route to the basket also plays a significant role in speed selection. If the disc is traveling faster than its tolerated speed, it will become understable, and if slower, it will become overstable. Therefore, you can create various flight paths simply by adjusting the power on the throw. Eventually all but the slowest rated discs will become overstable as they are overcome by wind resistance, gravity and whatnot, causing them to roll in the direction counter to their spin at the end of their flight, which means to the left on a RHBH throw. This fade at the end of a disc’s flight is measured by the disc golf community in terms of LSS, or low speed stability.

Most companies rate their discs according to speed and stability, but Discraft frustratingly doesn’t make a distinction between stages of flight, of which there are three. The first part of the disc flight has been dubbed HSS, or high speed stability, by the disc golf community. Innova calls it “turn.” This is when the disc is released and at the max velocity the thrower has provided. Turn is universally measured on a scale using straight as zero, with increasingly overstable moving away from zero along a positive number line and understable doing the same along a negative number line.

The middle part of the flight is called glide. This is seemingly when the rotational spin, speed and design of the disc align to minimize drag, causing the disc to float through the air; effortlessly holding its line. Latitude 64 have recently raised the bar in terms of glide, but Discraft seems to have the largest variance in glide capability between various discs, and so I find it frustrating that their charts ignore glide altogether. While some discs can glide seemingly forever, others don’t glide much at all, and these are essential for use on holes which require an abrupt transition between HSS and LSS stages. Eliminating wobble and increasing yaw, which is the spin of the disc on its axis, will give the disc more glide and decrease both HSS and LSS.

A good disc is any one whose flight characteristics you can understand, utilize and trust.

One section of the forum is dedicated to sharing what discs are currently in one’s bag, and I became captivated by this. DGR promotes using a minimum number of discs and molds (the term they use in favor of disc models). Unless you’re the store or company selling them, it makes sense to learn to steer and control various flight paths of one disc rather than purchasing a different disc for every flight route you want to take. It is also useful to take advantage of the fact that as discs age, they lose stability. You can broaden the number of routes you can take at the same distance by using the same mold in various states of wear. But as a beginner, it’s sort of difficult to commit to buying a bunch of one mold until you’ve tried a bunch of different molds to get idea of what fits you best. The problem with this became readily apparent when I attempted to compare a Discmania DD with a Discraft Avenger. The drastic differences in rim shape caused me to lose my release point when switching between the two, so that I was either releasing the Avenger too early or the DD too late. I quickly realized I needed to choose between the two, and the predictability of the Avenger won out, despite the fact that the DD flies further and tend to skip off the ground when it hits, stealing several more feet.

My former playing partner’s Cyclone/Magnet combo, along with a Comet, are the classic “old-school” discs. I was sort of astonished that the Leopard was indeed touted as a great disc not only to start out with, but as a staple for slow and straight or s-curve fairway drives. In fact, the most-used discs were moderately stable fairway drivers, slightly understable mid-range discs and overstable putters.

I had expected to see a bunch of max weight, overstable long distance, super fast drivers. How else could those other people I sometimes see on courses be throwing so far? Score one for the marketing machine. Turns out, those max range distance discs are for throwing beyond 400 feet, and if you can’t throw them that far, there is no point in using them. Anyway, the average hole distance from the tee on a typical disc golf course is closer to 300 feet. It is easier to throw a disc 300 feet that was designed to travel 300 feet than it is to throw a disc 300 feet that was designed to travel 400 feet. Mind-bogglingly simple logic. There’s a caveat in this statement however, in that it assumes you are using proper throwing technique.

I had been in the habit of throwing everything as hard as I could, and meanwhile was frustrated with my lack of consistency. According to the DGR forum, one could throw further with more accuracy using less power but maximizing disc glide. My bag contained six distance drivers, most of which I never used, and zero fairway drivers. I took most of the high-speed drivers out and purchased three fairway drivers- a Firebird, a Teebird and a Glow Stalker. I bought my girlfriend a Cyclone and gave her my P&A Aviar putter, which I replaced with a Gateway Wizard.

Once upon a time, I was a drummer. I wasn’t some prodigy blessed with the gift of rhythm; I learned what it was and how to express it only after years of diligent practice. One thing I’m aware of about myself is that while I am incredibly adept at improvising solutions, I have little to no natural athletic instinct. Also, I am a passionately devoted person with a stronger work ethic than most. I’m not particularly proficient at solving riddles, but it’s something I enjoy doing. All this is to say that I understand one improves not buy purchasing the “best” materials, but through practice, practice, practice. Beyond that, the obsessive quest to discover the brand/size/shape/thickness/material of drumsticks/bundle sticks/mallets/brushes/drumheads that best fit your individual hands/approach/style/needs is exactly like choosing distance drivers/fairway drivers/mid-ranges/putters/utility discs. The frustration of product consistency after finding exactly what you’re looking for is also familiar.

Because of various factors associated with humidity, cooling rates, etc, there are variances between discs of the same mold, especially when compared year to year, giving forum members infinite fodder to bitch/debate about. These obsesses tend to lead to a preoccupation with purchasing every disc one can find that most resembles one they had success with in the past, which certainly works in favor of those selling discs. Also, the real fear of losing a preferred disc can set in, leading one to withhold using it until a suitable backup has been procured.

All kinds of tricks are used to determine when a disc was made. Some companies make this easier by changing their stamp designs more than others (and none more than Millenium). One obvious way with certain Innova discs is simply by the number of national championships credited to Ken Climo (he’s up to twelve). The lettering embossed on the inside of the disc, called tooling, often changes from run to run.

Some companies occasionally modify their disc molds without letting anybody know. The forum is very useful for ferreting out variations within a mold. The Innova wing, or shaped underside edge of a disc, for example, can be in at least three variants: X, L and + (plus). The disc Innova calls Beast has a completely different wing than it did when it first came out, and is not the same disc by any stretch of the imagination. According the DGR forum, certain discontinued and old mold Discraft discs reappear as DGA discs.

A disc is made by combining a top and bottom mold. Once a company has built two molds of the same diameter, they can potentially double their profits by swapping halves and “inventing” two more discs. From my cynical point of view, that means half the discs out there are little more than a practical way of lowering overhead costs.

The line on the disc at the point where the molds meet is called the parting line. Excess plastic sometimes found on new discs at the parting line is called flashing, and will cause new discs to be more stable. It wears down after a few rounds of throws. As the disc ages, it loses some structural integrity, which also causes the stability to decrease. I’m too late to the party to start offering suggestions now, but I don’t know why the parting line isn’t instead called the flash line. Anyway, some guy with the avatar “Marmoset” figured out that when comparing the same mold side by side on a flat surface, a disc with a higher parting line will tend to be more stable. I am a sucker for such nerdiness.

I had never understood what a disc “bead” was, but now I figured out it was the vertical ridge on the underside of the inner wing of some discs that acts as a stabilizer. The P&A Aviar I gave to my girlfriend doesn’t have a bead, but there is another Aviar putter that does. The Roc is probably the most popular beaded disc. Beaded discs tend to have better wind resistance. The down-side of a bead is that, when you grip the disc, it rests against the side of your index finger with the comfort of a dull axe.

I’ve barely used the Stalker, simply because it was made irrelevent by the Teebird (both at 171 grams) which quickly became my favorite disc. I had purchased it in transparent Champion plastic, which is Innova’s most durable disc. As discs age, they become less stable. Cheaper plastics do so at a faster rate than more expensive plastics. At the DGR forum, it is recommended to purchase baseline plastics at first, so you can more quickly learn how the flight characteristics change as it ages. I, however, had intentionally bought the better plastic in order to give myself time to learn the flight of the disc before it became too unstable. But curious, I bought another Teebird in the cheap DX plastic at the same weight for $8. It easily had more glide than the Champion version. The noticeable difference in the shape of the disc was that the edge was sharper when new. The third round after buying it was played using only the DX Teebird and the Wizard. This was not by design, but due to the fact that those were the only two discs I needed. Along the way, I hit at least two trees and a metal power line tower squarely, and by the final hole, a left hook over a river, the Teebird was beat in to the point that, when I threw it at a hyzer angle, it flipped to straight and sailed across the river into a tree on the opposite bank considerably past the basket. Despite the five minute walk it took to recover the disc, I viewed this as a success.

I had purchased the Firebird in max weight, or 175 grams, because I wanted to make sure it turned left. This turned out to be a mistake, as the overstable disc design itself was more than capable of doing its job. The heaviness of the disc relative to my other drivers tended to throw off my release point on the rare occasion when I needed the disc. However, I couldn’t find a lighter Firebird, so, after consulting the forum, bought a 169 gram Discraft Predator instead. You can turn a sharp left or get good distance on a strong throw with this disc, and it can be confidently “flexed,” or put on a hard anny line knowing the disc will pull out of it to yield a stretched S-curve.

I use mid-range discs mainly as utility discs to be used when unique circumstances present themselves as the result of a uniquely designed hole or a bad throw. The Roc is the most versatile mid-range disc I’ve thrown, but it has a lot of overlap with the Wizard, and I almost always choose the latter instead, so I’m contemplating getting a Buzzz, the most popular disc Discraft makes, as it purportedly can get more distance and work well for the shot I have the most trouble with- straight to slightly right downhill “tunnel” shots. (Actually, I do have one Z Buzzz that I can flick better than other discs, but it is very light for a mid-range (168 grams) and therefore too flippy.)

Besides throwing them, the best way to understand and appreciate the differences between discs is by feeling them. The variances in shapes and contours, tackiness and flexibility all become perceptible to the touch. Gateway offers the largest range in disc feels, while Discraft seems the most consistent. Right now I am particularly enthralled by the feel of some of Innova’s pearly Champion discs, despite the purported fact that the swirls only come from a batch made right after switching disc colors. While perhaps a bit too slick, Latitude 64’s discs seem indestructible.


Here’s what it looks like at the end of 2011:

Extra Long Range Driver:
168g Innova Star Destroyer (Long S-curves)

Long Range Driver:
168g Discraft Z Avenger (Pinpoint accuracy, highly predictable)
(After much searching, I am loving a 171g Roadrunner for understable duties)

Fairway Drivers:
169g Discraft Z Predator (Overstable, long left turns, heavy winds)
171g Innova Champion Teebird (Stable, line-shaping workhorse)
171g Innova DX Teebird (Understable, S-curves)

Mid-range:
175g Innova Star big bead Gator (Left turn!)
176g Innova KC Pro Roc
173g Latitude 64 Opto Fuse (Amazing turnovers, tons of glide, useless in headwinds)

Putters:
175g Gateway Soft Wizard (Approach shots, short drives)
174g Gateway Glow Wizard (Newer and grippier, hyzer finish putts)
???? Gateway Evolution HPP Warlock (Most putts, holds any line albeit a limited range)



Amongst my next disc golf related purchases will be a scale that measures grams.

Check back for Disc Golf Review, Part 2: Technique.

The Greatest Cocktail Recipes, Period.

In early 2006, I got curious about cocktails. Since then, I have spent countless hours honing the art of cocktail-making. The number of different cocktails I have tried is easily in the thousands, from dozens of resources. What no cocktail book containing hundreds or thousands of recipes tells you is that most of them suck. Any combination of ingredients given a name is deemed a cocktail, and it seems the name is often given more thought. My 2011 New Years resolution was to whittle down my accumulated list of cocktails to try again, which was well over 200- all organized alphabetically by category- at the end of 2010. I pretty much had this task completed by May, and, since then, have enjoyed being able to drink proven and tasty cocktails instead of wasting time and money on all manner of random weirdness.

I am what you might call meticulous about using authentic and fresh ingredients and exacting ratios. I don’t just add a dash- I actually have a spoon that measures a dash. For me, the goal of a mixed drink is to highlight the best aspects of all the liquids involved, which flies in the face of modern convention that assumes drinks are mixed to disguise the alcohol. I seek harmony and balance with all ingredients as well as a resultant gestalt. Probably the biggest fallacy in cocktail explorations is to be intrigued by an unfamiliar ingredient and mistake that for tastefulness. The opposite can also occur- when I first tried using Benedictine I thought it was horrible because I was putting way too much of it in everything. It is essential to understand how each ingredient tastes by itself in order to discern how it contributes to the mix. Leaving no stone unturned, I have compared glass shapes, ice cube sizes, various sugars, shaker designs, juicers, recipe variants, gins, whiskies (more like hundreds), tequilas, rums, bitters, vermouths, grenadines and even vodkas, which generally has too subtle a flavor to work in cocktails.

Fresh-squeezed citrus is an absolute must. A typical lemon usually yields 2 oz of juice, and a lime's around 1.5 oz (called a jigger), but I always squeeze separately and pour through a fine filter into a measuring device. One also must be able to execute a proper twist. The first step is to thoroughly wash the citrus, because it often has been waxed to make it shiny. Also, room temperature citrus works much better than refrigerated. Using a sharp paring knife or potato peeler, cut a swath of peel approximately ¾ inch wide and 3 inches long (and no, I don't use a ruler). Try to get as little pith (the white, chewy stuff) as possible. Now, mix your drink. You will want the outside of the peel pointing toward your newly-made cocktail, a few inches above the drink. Next, either pinch the peel at each end and wring it like a wash cloth, or firmly grasp the edges of the long sides of the peel between the thumbs and the fingers and snap the peel slice in half down the middle, making sure not to propel the entire thing into the beverage. Either way, you should see a spritz of whatever-it-is spray into and float on top of the drink. If I don’t see the spritz, I start over. It is up to the bartender’s discretion whether to finally discard the twist or add it to the drink. (I’ve concluded that there is never any reason for a twist of lime; a squeeze from a wedge is better.)

Cocktails are easier to make than bartenders let on, although it requires a bit more care than pouring random ratios into a container. Some basic rules are to always use a chilled cocktail glass, and to shake for around 30 seconds and stir for 45, preferably with cracked ice, which is 1/3 the size of an ice cube. (I found trays at Fred Meyer in Portland, OR that make little gumdrop-shaped ice that work perfectly.) A metal shaker will frost over when the drink is properly shaken down to the right temperature. As a general rule of thumb, shake if you’re combining alcoholic and non-alcoholic ingredients; otherwise stir. (Dubiously helpful hint: if you’re almost out of an ingredient, measure that before mixing other ingredients so that if the ratio is short, you can adjust the others accordingly.) Also, to “rinse” means to coat a glass by swirling a liquor around in it and then pouring out the excess. Mint is spearmint; you can buy a plant for $3 that’ll last you all summer.


Non-Alcoholic Accompaniments:
It is good to have options for adding non-alcoholic components to cocktails, especially if you decide to have more than two. Here are a couple basics:

Grenadine
Combine 1.25 cups granulated sugar and 1 cup POM pomegranate juice in saucepan. Stir while bringing just to boil (if allowed to rolling boil it will taste burnt). Simmer 7 minutes or until thick enough to coat back of spoon. Allow to cool.
Not to be confused with sugar and food coloring, which is what a lot of the store-bought stuff is!

Sangrita
3 oz Spicy V8 (sub tomato juice)
1.5 oz fresh-squeezed orange juice
½ oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
1 tsp grenadine
½ tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 dash habanero sauce
Rock (pour back and forth) in Boston shaker w/ cracked ice
Strain into empty old fashioned glass
This is a tequila back that works great as a palate-cleanser. In Mexico, tequila is invariably served with it, but everyone makes it differently. For example, it is often made in a blender with real tomatoes and jalapenos, and I’ve never tried doing it that way. I should.

Simple Syrup
Combine 2 cups granulated sugar and 1 cup water in saucepan. Stir while bringing just to boil (if allowed to rolling boil it will taste burnt). Simmer 6 minutes or until thick enough to coat back of spoon. Allow to cool.
Since it’s pre-dissolved, simple syrup mixes much better than granulated sugar.


Non-Alcoholic Drinks:
So-called “virgin” cocktails, while a great idea in theory, tend to be a waste of time. Here are my recommendations for days when you don’t want to consume alcohol:

Lemonade
5 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1.5 tbsp simple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice; serve in Collins glass filled w/ ice cubes
This may be on the sour side for those used to bullshit “lemon-esque” beverages.

Thai Iced Tea (makes 2 glasses)
Bring 3 cups water to boil.
Add ½ cup thai tea leaves, turn down to simmer.
Stir the tea and water for 10 minutes.
Pour the liquid through fine filter into another saucepan
Return to simmer then add 3/4 cup sugar and stir until melted.
Allow to cool.
Pour over ice and top with heavy cream.
Stir before drinking.
Thai tea leaves are found at Asian specialty markets, and are not some secret mix of teas, herbs and spices like many Americans assume. They always have added food coloring to make the drink orange.


Without further ado:
Greatest Cocktails Ever:
Not an exaggerated title; I believe there are 30 of them, but the number is a coincidence. I have tried, balanced and tested each of these dozens of times and fed them to others, and they remain delicious and intriguing. Any minor alterations from the original recipe, such as using green chartreuse instead of yellow or lemon juice instead of grapefruit, have been marked as “variant.” All variants have been double-checked against the original to ensure my way is better.


Applejack

Widow’s Kiss
2 oz Laird’s Applejack
¾ oz green Chartreuse
1 tsp Benedictine
2 dash Angostura bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass.
Garnish w/ cherry
This is what I consider my overall favorite cocktail.


Brandy/Cognac

Amer (Variant)
1.5 oz E&J brandy
¾ oz Amer Picon
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
2 tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass
Garnish w/ cherry

Champs Elysees (Variant)
2 oz Hennessey cognac
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
2 tsp green Chartreuse
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash Regan’s orange bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Optional nutmeg sprinkle
This drink has a very intriguing bite, perhaps the cocktail equivalent of allspice.

Georgia Mint Julep
in julep cup (sub old fashioned glass),
Delicately muddle:
9-10 mint leaves
2 sugar cubes
2+ tsp peach brandy
Pack w/ crushed ice, making a snow cone above the cup
Add 2 oz Hennessey, pouring in a spiral and melting the ice
Refill crushed ice to level w/ cup if needed
Garnish mint sprig
The ice prevents the drink from being gulped down all at once. It should get a bit sweeter as you progress.

Sidecar
1.5 oz E&J Brandy
¾ oz Cointreau
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up in sugar-coated cocktail glass
Add lemon twist
Seductive. I can’t think of a bigger compliment for a cocktail.


Gin, London Dry

Corpse Reviver #2
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
¾ oz Cointreau
¾ oz Lillet Blanc
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into absinthe-rinsed cocktail glass
Garnish w/ cherry

Gin Aloha (Variant)
1.5 oz London dry gin
¾ oz Cointreau
¾ oz pineapple juice
2 dashes Regan’s orange bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Fruity and tropical.

Gin and Tonic
in highball glass add:
6 ice cubes
1.5 oz. Tangueray London Dry Gin
Rub Lime wedge around rim, squeeze into glass and add rind
Top w/ 4 oz. Fever Tree tonic water
Let stand 1 minute
I’m not taking credit for the final touch of letting it stand to let the bubbles stir the drink instead of stirring it and making it flat, but whoever turned me onto that realization is genius. I mean, who can bear to wait one minute before drinking this summertime favorite?

Hanky Panky (Variant)
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
1 oz Noilly Pratt, Dolin or Vya sweet vermouth
2 tsp Fernet Branca
1 dash Regan’s orange bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add orange twist
This is the best digestive I’ve come across, despite the unfortunate name. Perfect for following too big or spicy a meal before bedtime. It is not nearly as good without the orange twist.

Inspiration
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
¾ oz Grand Marnier
¾ oz Laird’s Applejack
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish cherry
Bored with martinis? Here you go; problem solved.

Pegu Club
1.5 oz Boodles gin
¾ oz Cointreau
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass
Move over margarita. This is so much better.

Ramos Fizz
2 oz Boodles gin
½ oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
½ oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1.5 dashes orange-flower water
1 small egg white
½ oz cream
moistened sugar cube
Shake without ice in Boston shaker for several minutes, adding cracked ice for final 30 seconds
Strain into empty old-fashioned glass
add splash soda, garnish w/ mint sprig
This is my standard for any complicated cocktail. If it’s as difficult to make as this but not as delicious, then why bother? So far, no other mixed drink has passed that test.

Red Snapper
5 oz Spicy V8
1.5 oz Tangueray London Dry gin
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
½ tsp horseradish
(optional) splash habanero sauce
Rock (pour back and forth) w/ cracked ice in Boston shaker
Strain into empty old-fashioned glass or pint glass filled w/ ice cubes
Shake celery salt on top
garnish w/ pickled asparagus spear
It’s the same as a Bloody Mary except uses gin instead of vodka.

Royal Buck/Rickey
1.5 oz Tangueray London gin
¾ oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
½ oz sweet vermouth
½ oz grenadine
Stir briefly w/ spent shell of lime and ice cubes in old fashioned glass
Top w/ Goya ginger beer (for buck) or soda (for rickey)


Gin, Old Tom

Martinez
2.5 oz Old Tom gin
1/2 oz Dolin, Noilly Pratt or Vya sweet vermouth
1 dash Regan’s orange bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice, serve up into Luxardo maraschino liqueur-rinsed cocktail glass
This is among the first cocktails, chronologically speaking. The two Old Tom Gins on America’s market, Hayman’s and Ransom, are both sweet, but Ransom is more complex.


Gin, Plymouth

Lucien Gaudin
1.5 oz Plymouth gin
¾ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
½ oz Gran Classico
½ oz Cointreau
Stir w/ ice, serve up into cocktail glass
Add orange twist
This is a very expensive, luxurious drink for an upscale evening.

Dry Martini
2.5 oz Plymouth gin (or Tangueray Ten London gin)
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
Stir w/ ice, serve up into cocktail glass
Add lemon twist
An olive garnish accentuates the dry vermouth, which encourages people to start bitching that there’s too much dry vermouth, which they ironically attempt to solve by adding more olives and subtracting vermouth until they’re drinking spiked olive juice. Don’t get me started….

Million Dollar
1.5 oz Plymouth Gin
¾ oz sweet vermouth
½ oz pineapple juice
½ oz grenadine
1 small egg white
Shake without ice in Boston shaker for several minutes, adding cracked ice for final 30 seconds
Strain into cocktail glass
This drink is somehow almost chocolate-y.

Pink Gin
3 oz Plymouth gin
½ tsp + 1 dash Angostura
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass
The deliciousness of this wonderful digestif goes far beyond its simplicity.


Pisco

Pisco Sour
2 oz Don Cesar pisco puro
1½ oz fresh-squeezed (Peruvian) lemon juice
1 small egg white
2 moistened sugar cubes
Shake without ice in Boston shaker for several minutes, adding cracked ice for final 30 seconds
Strain into cocktail glass
Float several drops Amargo Chuncho bitters on top (sub Angostura bitters)


Rum

Hemingway Daiquiri
2 oz light rum (Cruzan)
1 oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
1 oz fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice
2 tsp maraschino liqueur
Shake w/ cracked ice
Strain into Collins glass filled w/ crushed ice

Mojito
Muddle:
½ lime quartered
1 sugar cube
Lightly muddle:
9-10 spearmint leaves
2nd sugar cube
Add:
2 oz Bacardi light rum
Shake lightly w/ cracked ice; strain into Collins glass filled w/ shaved ice
Refill shaved ice to top
top w/ soda
garnish mint sprig
Perhaps the best drink for a hot summer day.


Tequila

Carney Girl (AVW Original)
2 oz reposado tequila
3/4 oz Lillet blanc
1.5 tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
The only drink I’ve created that is tasty, albeit on the feminine side, and somehow unlike anything else; the idea for it was inadvertently inspired by my friend Sean Joseph Patrick Carney mentioning a girl who swore by mixing tequila with white wine.

Doralto
1.5 oz 1800 reposado tequila
1 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp simple syrup
1 dash Angostura
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into old fashioned glass w/ 5 ice cubes
Top with tonic water
Garnish w/ lime wheel
The garnish functions as a visual aid to taste the limey-ness of the drink. Alternatively, you can just tell the recipient it tastes limey.


Whiskey

Brooklyn
2 oz Sazerac rye whiskey
¾ oz dry vermouth
2 tsp Amer Picon
1 tsp Luxardo maraschino liqueur
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add orange twist

Hot Toddy
1.5 oz Sazerac Rye
1 lemon circle studded with 8 or so cloves
Top w/ hot water
2 dashes orange bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
The toddy yields itself well to infinite variations; you almost can’t screw this drink up.

Old Fashioned
Muddle in old fashioned glass:
1 moistened sugar cube
2 dash Angostura
2 dash Regan’s orange bitters
1 broad lemon peel
Add:
3 ice cubes
2.5 oz rye whiskey or bourbon
stir lightly by swishing glass
Garnish w/ ½ orange wheel on rim
If too strong, aggressively swizzle it or add a splash soda)
Ask ten people how to make an Old Fashioned and you will get ten answers. I’ve made several dozen Old Fashioned recipes and this one is hands-down superior.

Sazerac
Moisten and crush sugar cube in mixing glass
Add:
2.5 oz Sazerac rye whiskey
3 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice
Strain into chilled absinthe-coated cocktail glass
Add lemon twist

Twin Hills
2 oz Sazerac rye whiskey
2 tsp Benedictine
2 tsp fresh-squeezed lemon juice
2 tsp fresh-squeezed lime juice
1 tsp simple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass.
(optional) Garnish with thin lemon and lime slices floated on top
A sophisticated sour that transcends the genre. This drink is also known by the objectionable name Frisco Sour, although that leads me to wonder why it’s not called Twin Peaks.

Wheeler
1.5 oz Sazerac rye whiskey
½ oz fresh-squeezed orange juice
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
2 tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Much better than it looks on paper.


Cocktail Honorable Mentions:
These drinks are very good, although not truly exceptional; but their ease of preparation sometimes makes them go-to drinks when hurried or feeling lazy.

Buck
In highball glass, build:
Wipe rim w/ spent half lime shell
Add 4 ice cubes and shell
1.5 oz any liquor (esp. Sazerac Rye)
¾ lime juice
fill w/ Goya ginger beer
A great, simple drink. Not worthwhile unless you use a spicy ginger beer.

French Connection
3 oz brandy/cognac
1 oz Grand Marnier
stir w/ cracked ice, strain into
Old fashioned glass containing 3 ice cubes
When I first came across Grand Marnier, I was unimpressed, and even demonstrated to myself that a better tasting concoction could be made using equal parts Hennessey and Cointreau. But the stuff kinda grows on you, and tastes like nothing else.

Gimlet (Variant)
2 oz Plymouth gin
1 oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
1 tsp simple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
A gimlet is supposed to be gin and Rose’s lime juice cordial.

Whiskey Sour
2 oz Sazerac rye whiskey
1 oz lemon juice
1 tsp simple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass



Cocktail Runner-Ups:
Just in case thirty-some incredible mixed drinks aren’t enough for you, I’ll tack on a long list of runner-ups. Most of the following are cocktails I liked the first time I tried them but eventually lost interest in. In some, I tasted potential but never got the flavor balance quite to my satisfaction. Some were pushed aside by another similar but preferred cocktail. Some of these are good to know because they’re frequently requested. All of these were too good to delete completely. I don’t feel like re-categorizing these drinks, so they are all simply alphabetized.

Abby (Variant)
1.5 oz Boodles gin
1 oz Lillet Blanc
1 dash Orange bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add lemon twist

Admiral
1.5 oz bourbon
¾ oz dry vermouth
¾ oz lemon juice
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Affinity
1.5 oz Famous Grouse blended scotch
¾ oz sweet vermouth
¾ oz dry vermouth
1 dash Angostura bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass
Add lemon twist

AJ Cocktail
1.5 oz Laird’s applejack
1.5 oz grapefruit juice
½ oz grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Ante
1.5 oz Applejack
¾ oz Dubonnet
2 tsp Cointreau
1 dash Angostura bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Apple Blow Fizz
2 oz Bonded Laird’s applejack
½ oz lemon juice
1 small egg
1 tsp sugar
Shake without ice in Boston shaker for several minutes, adding cracked ice for final 30 seconds
Strain into old fashioned glass containing 2-3 ice cubes
Top w/ soda
Sorta tastes like cream soda.

Applejack Rabbit
1.5 oz Laird's applejack
½ oz orange juice
½ oz lemon juice
½ oz maple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Apricot Tonic Fizz (AVW original)
1.5 oz dry gin or rye whiskey
½ oz apricot brandy
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into
Old-fashioned glass w/ 5 ice cubes
Top w/ tonic water

Aviation
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
½ oz lemon juice
½ tsp maraschino liqueur
1 dash apricot brandy
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish maraschino cherry

Bacardi Special
1.5 oz Bacardi light rum
¾ oz Boodles London dry gin
3 tsp lime juice
1 tsp grenadine
1 tsp sugar
Shake w/ cracked ice, strain into cocktail glass
Add lemon twist

Bebbo Cocktail
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
½ oz lemon juice
½ orange juice
1 tsp honey
Stir without ice until honey dissolves
Add cracked ice and shake; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish w/ cherry

Bermuda Bouquet
1.5 oz London gin (Tanguerey)
1 oz lemon juice
¾ oz orange juice
2 tsp grenadine
2 tsp Cointreau
1 tsp apricot brandy
1 tsp simple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice, strain into cocktail glass

Bourbon Collins (Variant)
2 oz Weller’s Reserve bourbon
1 oz lemon juice
1 tsp simple syrup
1 dash Peychaud’s bitters
Shake w/ ice, strain into chilled Collins glass filled w/ ice cubes
Fill w/ 3-4 oz club soda, garnish w/ lemon wedge

Casino
2 oz Old Tom Gin
½ oz lemon juice
3 dashes orange bitters
2 dashes Luxardo maraschino liqueur
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish w/ cherry

Ceylon
1 oz dry sherry
½ oz brandy/cognac
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
2 tsp Cointreau
2 tsp lemon juice
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add light pinch cinnamon, orange twist, lemon twist
If you have sherry, make this drink!

Chapala
1.5 oz 1800 reposado tequila
½ oz orange juice
½ oz lemon juice
2 tsp grenadine
1 dash orange-flower water
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Commodore
2 oz rye whiskey
1 oz lemon juice
2 dashes orange bitters
1 tsp simple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Crusta
2 oz Liquor (esp. brandy/cognac)
1 oz Cointreau
1/2 oz lemon juice
½ tsp maraschino
2 dashes Angostura
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into sugar coated white wine glass
Garnish w/ huge lemon swath around inside of rim

Deep Sea
1.5 oz Old Tom Gin
¾ oz Noilly Pratt Dry Vermouth
2 dashes orange bitters
1 dash absinthe
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add lemon twist

Egg Nog
Mix:
1 egg yolk
3 oz half and half
1 oz brandy
1 oz light rum
1 tbsp powdered sugar
Beat:
1 egg white
1 tbsp powdered sugar
Combine; garnish w/ nutmeg

El Presidente
1.5 oz light rum
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
2 tsp Cointreau
½ tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add orange twist

English Rose
2 oz London gin
¾ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
2 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp Parfait Amour
1 tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Fancy #1
2 oz any liquor
2 tsp Cointreau
1 dash Peychaud’s bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
Stir well w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish lemon twist

Fancy #2
2 oz any liquor
1 tsp Maraschino liqueur
1 dash Regan’s orange bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
Stir well w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish lemon twist

Floradora
Build in highball glass w/ ice cubes:
1.5 oz London dry gin
¾ oz framboise
½ oz lime juice
3-4 oz ginger beer
Garnish lime slice and raspberries

Florida (Variation)
1.5 oz London dry gin
1 oz grapefruit juice
¾ oz Lillet blanc
2 tsp Campari
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish orange slice

Flying High
1.5 oz gin
1 oz orange juice
1 oz Cherry Heering
¼ oz lemon juice
1 dash Angostura
1 small egg white
Shake without ice in Boston shaker for several minutes, adding cracked ice for final 30 seconds
Strain into cocktail glass

Greenfly
2 oz Boodles London dry gin
½ oz lemon juice
½ oz Green Chartreuse
1 tsp simple syrup
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add orange twist

Harvard
1.5 oz brandy
½ oz sweet vermouth (Carpano Antica)
½ oz lemon juice
1 tsp grenadine
1 dash angostura
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Hawaiian Brandy
1.5 oz Laird’s bonded applejack
½ oz pineapple juice
¼ oz lemon juice
¼ oz maraschino liqueur
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Honeymoon
1.5 oz Laird’s applejack
½ oz lemon juice
2 tsp Cointreau
1-2 tsp Benedictine
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
I really liked this for awhile, as it tastes a bit like honey, which is surprising until you realize Benedictine has a prominent honey flavor.

HPW Variation
1.5 oz Old Tom Gin
¾ oz sweet vermouth
1 tsp Clear Creek Kirschwasser
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Imperial
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
¾ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
½ tsp maraschino liqueur
1 dash Angostura bitters
Stir w/ ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish cherry (or olive)
A good martini variation!

Income Tax
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
1 oz orange juice
½ oz Carpano Antica sweet vermouth
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
2 dashes angostura bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Jack Rose
2 oz Laird's applejack
1 oz lemon juice
1¼ tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Jewel
1.5 oz Boodles London dry gin
¾ oz sweet vermouth
2 tsp green chartreuse
2 dashes orange bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Add lemon twist
Garnish w/ cherry

La Floridita Daquiri
2 oz light rum
¾ oz lime juice
1 tsp+1 dash maraschino liqueur
1 tsp powdered sugar
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into
Old fashioned glass filled w/ crushed ice
Garnish maraschino cherry

Le Bourget
2 oz Boodles gin
½ oz lemon juice
2 tsp St. Germain
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Linstead Variation
1.5 oz Sazerac Rye
1/2 oz lemon juice
2 tsp pineapple juice
1 dash Angostura
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into
Absinthe rinsed cocktail glass
Add lemon twist

Mai Tai
1 oz light rum
1 oz dark rum
1/2 oz Cointreau
1/2 oz lime juice
1 tsp simple syrup
1 tsp Orgeat
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into
cocktail glass filled w/ shaved ice
Garnish mint sprig

Manhattan
2 oz Sazerac Rye whiskey
3/4 oz Carpana Antica Sweet Vermouth
2 dashes Angostura
Stir w/ ice, serve up
Garnish with cherry (or lemon twist)

Margarita
1.5 oz 1800 Reposado tequila
3/4 oz Cointreau
3/4 oz lime juice
Shake w/ cracked ice, strain into salted cocktail glass

Mary Pickford
2 oz light rum
1 oz Pineapple juice
1 tsp Grenadine
1/2 tsp Maraschino
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish Maraschino cherry

Mint Julep
in mint julep cup:
add 1 moistened sugar cube
slightly crush 9 mint leaves
Fill with crushed ice, pack into snow cone shape
Add 4 oz bourbon
Lightly swirl glass
Refill with ice to level, mint sprig garnish

Monk’s Path
1.5 oz Old Tom’s gin
¾ oz lime juice
¾ oz orange juice
½ oz yellow Chartreuse
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into
Absinthe rinsed cocktail glass
I cribbed this recipe from some bar in Portland, OR. I always prefer substituting green chartreuse whenever yellow is called for.

Negroni
1.5 oz London dry gin
¾ oz sweet vermouth
¾ oz Campari
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish w/ orange wheel

No Name
1 oz London dry gin
1 oz lemon juice
¾ oz Grand Marnier
¾ oz Clear Creek Kirschwasser
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish lemon twist

Orange Fizz (Variant)
1.5 oz London dry gin
1 oz orange juice
3 tsp lemon juice
2 tsp Cointreau
2 tsp orange bitters
1 moistened sugar cube
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into
old fashioned glass w/ 3-4 ice cubes
Top w/ soda

Pago Pago
1.5 oz gold rum (Appleton Estate)
½ oz lime juice
½ oz pineapple juice
2 tsp green chartreuse
2 tsp crème de cacao
Shake w/ cracked ice, strain into cocktail glass.

Park Avenue
2 oz Boodles gin
¾ oz pineapple juice
¾ oz sweet vermouth
2 tsp Cointreau
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
(Garnish orange twist)

Pendennis Cocktail
1.5 oz Boodles gin
¾ oz lime juice
½ oz apricot brandy
2 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass

Pink Lady
1.5 oz dry gin
¾ oz Laird’s applejack
¾ oz lemon
1 small egg white
½ tsp grenadine
Shake without ice in Boston shaker for several minutes, adding cracked ice for final 30 seconds
Garnish with cherry

Pisco Punch Variation
1.5 oz pisco
¾ oz lemon juice (brings out pisco) OR lime juice (brings out pineapple)
¾ oz pineapple juice
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Pompana
1.5 oz Boodles gin
1.5 oz Grapefruit juice
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
½ tsp Regan’s Orange Bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass
Garnish w/ orange slice

Red Lion
1.5 oz Boodles gin
¾ oz Grand Marnier
½ oz lemon juice
½ oz orange juice
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Reno Split
1.5 oz Weller’s Reserve bourbon
1 oz apricot brandy
2 oz pineapple juice
Build in highball glass 2/3 full of cubed ice
Stir
Add splash of soda
A great summer drink; I may have simply burned myself out on them….

Rickey
Same as buck, except sub soda for ginger beer

Rolls Royce
1.5 oz Hennessey
¾ oz orange juice
¾ oz Cointreau
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass.
Garnish orange twist
Another drink that used to be one of my favorites.

Rose #3
1.5 oz Clear Creek kirschwasser
¾ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
2 tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass

Roy Howard
1.5 oz Lillet Blanc
¾ oz Hennessey
¾ oz orange juice
2 tsp grenadine
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass.

Salty Dog
Salt rim of highball glass
Fill w/ ice cubes
1.5 oz vodka (or Tanguerey gin)
top grapefruit juice

Satan’s Whiskers
1½ oz London dry gin
½ oz orange juice
½ oz Grand Marnier (called Straight Satan’s Whiskers) OR ½ oz Cointreau (called Curled…)
½ oz Noilly Pratt dry vermouth
½ oz sweet vermouth
½ tsp orange bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

Singapore Sling
2 oz London gin
2 oz pineapple juice
¾ oz Cherry brandy
¾ oz lime juice
2 dashes grenadine
2 tsp Benedictine
2 dash orange bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
Shake w/ cracked ice; strain into empty old-fashioned glass
Top w/ soda
Garnish cherry, pineapple slice, orange wheel

Star
2 oz Laird’s Applejack
½ oz sweet vermouth
1 dash Regan’s orange bitters
Stir w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass.
Add lemon twist

Tom Collins
2 oz Old Tom gin
1 oz lemon juice
1 crushed sugar cube
Shake w/ ice, strain into chilled Collins glass w/ 4 ice cubes
Add 3 oz club soda, garnish w/ cherry and orange slice

20th Century
1.5 oz Boodles gin
¾ oz Lillet Blanc
¾ oz lemon juice
1 tsp Crème de cacao
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass.
Add lemon twist
An interesting drink that, when properly balanced, unravels in layers in your mouth.

Vesper
1.5 oz Boodles Gin
1 ounce vodka
½ oz Lillet Blanc
Shake w/ cracked ice, serve up into cocktail glass.
Add lemon twist
From the first James Bond novel. Again, I may have burned myself out on these.

(Unnamed Original)
1.5 oz tequila
½ oz lemon juice
½ oz grapefruit juice
1 tsp simple syrup
Build in salt-rimmed old fashioned glass
Stir w/ 3-4 ice cubes
Top w/ soda

(Unnamed Original)
1.5 oz dark rum
¾ applejack
¾ oz Grand Marnier
½ oz sweet vermouth
Stir w/ cracked ice; strain into cocktail glass

(Unnamed Original)
build over ice cubes in Old Fashioned glasss:
1.5 oz Gran Classico (sub Campari)
1.5 oz grapefruit
Top w/ soda

The Lathe of Escher

Duplicate digit days always remind me of Risa, because she was born on one of them and I called to wish her a happy birthday on the wrong one once.

For over a decade, Risa has been compiling and distributing sundry articles amongst a select group of members in a top-secret organization loosely connected to Cedar Falls, Iowa. A mailer arrived the other day, and upon skimming the contents, I came upon the transcriptions of a Camping Journal- a term coined by Risa- giving a distorted play-by-play of Brett and Andrea’s wedding reunion campout. “Oh, that’s strange,” I commented aloud, “I thought I had written a lot of that.” I then read the explanatory opening paragraph with near disbelief: I had written the bulk of that night’s Camping Journal.

My handwriting is completely illegible, and it does not improve with drinking. One morning in Maupin, Oregon, while struggling to read an entire page of my own Camping Journal scribbles from the epic night before in Dick’s backyard, I showed it to Sandy. She just laughed and shook her head. “My students have better handwriting than that.” I have been typing everything intended for others to read since my parents bought an Apple 2e clone when I was in seventh grade. Risa, however, was somehow only stumped by six words, which she scanned and included in their original form. The first four are: gun, woman, misbehavin’ and paddling; I have no clue myself what the last two are.

It suddenly occurred to me that Risa and I have remained in fairly consistent contact since we first met in Brad’s dorm room on April 27th, 1996, which is longer than anybody else I know. Therefore, it is highly probable that Risa knows me better than anybody else. This is likely how she was able to kick my ass at Risk last month, despite my having taught her everything (worthwhile anyway) she knows about the game. (Anyone who’s played a board game with my dad or I will get this joke.)

Risa’s married to this guy Chant. Chant and I met while “working” at a gas station conveniently located a couple blocks from “The Blue House,” where Risa lived at the time. Upon meeting Chant, I thought to myself, this guy is either as smart as I am or as full of shit. He dons a jaunty grin, keen eyes, stilt-like legs and flaxen hair. Perhaps he’s just a little too adorable for my tastes. He brews some fine beer, though. (I’m genuinely tempted to add LOLZ.)

One day while working together, Chant called me out for staring at a cute customer. Two years later, that cute customer and I would move to the San Francisco Bay Area together, not long after Chant and Risa had moved to Eugene, Oregon.

About a year ago, Chant and Risa asked if I’d seen some movie I’d never heard of. Chant promptly burned me a copy and, instead of writing the name of the movie, drew a picture of some devious-looking guy on it. Most people shy away from recommending movies to me, as I’m generally not shy about giving my opinion on it. If I don’t like a movie, I tend to amuse myself by talking through it ala MST3K. Anyway, I finally got around to watching the movie last night. It’s tragically titled The Lathe of Heaven (1980), so now I get why Chant opted to omit it. It is my kind of movie in so many ways- a sort of Twilight Zone meets Philip K. Dick in Portland, Oregon with a PBS budget (literally). It seems an essential link between cinematic science fiction prior to Star Wars (1977) and those that weren’t trying to be another Return of the Jedi (1983).

Chant also burned me the first season of The Wire. I plan on starting to watch that next week.

Risa has always had a crush on Arlo Guthrie. She even made me re-watch Alice’s Restaurant (1969) during our college years, and it turned out to be much better than I remembered it. I’m sure their newborn son, Escher Arlo, will be seeing it soon.

There’s a tête-à-tête in the entertainingly quotable movie Tombstone (1993) where, after the tuberculosis addled Doc Holliday, delightfully portrayed by Val Kilmer, coughs up blood and falls off his horse, Turkey Creek Jack Johnson asks, “Why are you doin’ this, Doc?” Holliday slurs, “Because Wyatt Earp is my friend.” Johnson scoffs, “Friend? Hell, I got lots of friends.” Holliday replies, “I don’t.”

Hypocritical Oath

There’s not much subtle about me. Last week, a co-worker exclaimed, “I don’t understand you- you’re so blunt!”

“How can it be difficult to understand me telling you exactly what I mean?” I asked.

“I’m not used to it.”

Fair enough. In part because I disdain condescension, I find it difficult to be patronizing towards others. Similarly, because I’m an unimpressive mind-reader, I tend to speak rather directly. Unfortunately, most people are jelly-spined crybabies who would rather hear how awesome they are than the truth. I crave frankness, but it is exceedingly rare. People aren’t generally comfortable giving their genuine opinions unless it’s done anonymously or from a safe distance. I suspect this is oftentimes due to their own tacit acceptance that they don’t know what they’re talking about, which would be immediately revealed in their inability to rationally defend their stance. Of course, it could also be due to the likelihood of me disagreeing with anything and everything anybody says. Maybe others, like myself, don’t like to argue. Maybe others aren’t as confident in their ability to bullshit as I am. I am incredulous to a fault. There is a minority who know more than I initially give them credit for, but I’m not willing to assume their competence until I deem it sufficiently demonstrated.

Conversely, I often fail to understand why anybody would take anything I say to heart. Who really cares about the opinions of others? Others, apparently. I’m not suggesting I’m immune to being offended- that’d be naïve. (My mind travels to an anomalous social interaction with three musical associates during my tenure as a drummer. While playing some game with obscure words that you had to invent and guess definitions for that was far less enjoyable than reading the dictionary, the host casually commented while gesturing toward the other participants, “I think it would be awesome to start a trio with you on piano, you on drums and me on electronics. No offense, Andrew.”)

Not all that long ago, someone I didn’t immediately recognize sent me a friend request on Facebook. I eventually determined it to be a girl I knew only because we ate lunch at the same time in high school. She’d sit across the table from me and bitch incessantly about whatever we had been served. As this was the only contact I ever had with her, I found her extremely annoying. I ignored the request. Now, after realizing my hypocrisy, I feel a bit bad about that.

I’m tangentially reminded of an occurrence in high school when my bipolar girlfriend quixotically declared, “I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make me mad.”

“That’s absurd,” I retorted. “I could piss you off right now in fifty different ways.”

“I bet you can’t.”

“How much?”

“Five bucks.”

“You know how I’ve been staying after school to work on a computer project? Really, I’ve just been staying after to hang out with Beth.”

“WHAT? IS THAT TRUE?”

“No, of course not- you owe me five bucks.” Suffice it to say she didn’t talk to me for the next two days, and I never got my five dollars.

One of the things I love most about the human experience is how we find unique ways of interacting with individuals as we become acquainted. For instance, whenever Rachel or I would go off on a tangent, the other would loudly interrupt with, “IN CONCLUSION,” which would effectively dissolve the monologue into fits of giggles.

IN CONCLUSION, I yearn to hear the frank opinions of others, although I don’t usually care what their opinion is.

Sermon

Sometime while I was in high school, during which I frequented not only church but all manner of Pentecostal gatherings aimed at keeping teens sober, celibate and, most importantly, charitable, a story began circulating. I heard it three times: Not long ago, there was a science teacher at a high school who got into a debate about evolution with a Christian student… Were this story factual, not only would it have been a simple task to name the school where this occurred, but they certainly would have done so. Instead, we are led to unquestioningly believe that teachers everywhere are trying to lead Christians away from “The Truth” by not only forcing evolution upon them, but actively attacking Christianity. Reducing the debate to the historical accuracy of the Book of Genesis versus Darwinian evolution and calling it Creationism versus evolution is already a win for Christians, as doing so slyly and unjustifiably eliminates any exploration into the validity of the thousands of other creation stories found in every culture throughout history. It’s the same technique used to argue the existence of an eternal, omnipotent creator while immediately disregarding the possibility of the existence of any god or gods other than the one they envision, ironically ignorant that their description is not even found in the Bible, but is an ultimate Idyllic being proposed by the Neo-Platonists in the 3rd century AD.

The teacher insisted that the Laws of Physics will always win out over supernatural forces. To prove this point, he held up an egg… Where the hell did the science teacher suddenly get an egg? What kind of egg? These nagging questions were never addressed. However, this story always made sure to stress the dangers of knowledge. Christians despise education; it is counter to their agenda. Secular teachers are all only trying to deceive, confuse and discourage you. It is preferable to blindly assume you are right and everybody else is wrong. Research for Christians seems to consist of finding others who agree with what they already believe or, more accurately, want to believe.

”If I drop this egg,” the teacher declared, “it will fall to the ground and break every time.” “Not if God wills otherwise,” the student countered…” Anyone like myself who had grown up in the Church already anticipated one thing about the outcome of this story- the teacher wasn’t going to drop the egg. If there was one thing Jesus was an exemplar of, it was weaseling out of debates. A popular dodge in Christianity is a Scripture verse Jesus used to ignore the taunts of a demonic spirit he saw after fasting in the desert for 40 days: Thou shalt not tempt (always misconstrued as, or to mean, “test”- one of those times when people who can’t even tell you what language the statement was originally written in suddenly become experts in translation) the Lord thy God. This kind of thing makes it hard to believe that people at the time compared Jesus to Elijah, who incessantly mocked the followers of Baal while publically pitting their god to a test against his (before having them killed).

Parables are stories used to explain beliefs but disguised to make it sound like they prove them. This subterfuge was, according to The Gospels, Jesus’ favorite tactic. Seemingly every opinion can be reduced to a comparison with a wheat farmer or fisherman. It shouldn’t be all that difficult to work out that how many seeds a Roman farmer plants has nothing to do with the price of beans in China, so to speak. I suspect Jesus’ tendency to avoid answers with unnecessary explanative examples is why Christians often confuse disagreement with misunderstanding. In a supreme illustration of egocentricity, they will assume that any failure to agree with their point of view is due solely to a misunderstanding of what their point of view is. Further, they seem to insist, although not in these exact words, that, “My ignorance (somehow) acts to demonstrate God’s infinite wisdom; therefore my words will always be wanting enough that you will likely never understand that I am right and you are wrong. (Of course, if you don’t believe me, you will burn forever in hell.)” They spend a lot of time making up excuses for retaining coherency in their beliefs, and no time verifying any of them. They are not even interested enough in Jesus to peruse any of the plethora of stories about him and quotes accredited to him other than the four included in the modern Bible, and they don’t research the provenance of those, either.

”Feel free to drop the egg and see what happens,” the student challenges, “but allow me to pray first.” The teacher laughed and acquiesced… See how persecuted we poor Christians are, having to beg permission to pray in school? It is a God-given right that we should be allowed to pray (as long as these prayers are to the God of Christianity). Don’t try and confuse us by pointing out that this is circular logic. Also, don't point out that this particular debate regards compulsory faculty or peer-led religious liturgy in public schools and not the right of an individual to pray in school. We are so easily confused! ”Dear Jesus,” the child prayed, “if it be your will, let the egg not break when it is dropped. And, at the same time, let the teacher be instantly struck down dead for his disbelief…” Okay, whoa there, kid. Either he’s bluffing or he is psychotic. Either way, he should definitely be expelled for publicly announcing his wish that a teacher be killed. Presumably, if we are to adhere to the lesson of this story, even overt threats are okay as long as they’re in the name of the Christian God.

Rattled and shaking, the teacher carefully placed the egg on his desk and stutteringly began a lesson on another topic…. Christians are in deep denial regarding those that believe differently than them; assuming they must be unhappy, desperate immoral villains living in fear. Most non-Christians would unflinchingly splatter the egg.

The punctum saliens of this quaint little tale, according to everybody I heard tell it, is that people’s belief in God is actually stronger than their disbelief. Why then didn’t the kid just simply agree to have the teacher drop the egg? The teller of this transparently fictional story could have easily wrapped it up by claiming the egg bounced around the room like silly putty. Problematically, most would be hard-pressed to believe that ending. Ironic.

Nobody really follows Jesus’ teachings. His solution for how to pay taxes, for example, was to catch a fish and pull a gold coin out of its mouth. If you truly believe in the Christian God, you should try that and let me know how it goes. If you don’t try it or it doesn’t work, then you don’t believe in the divinity of Jesus- and that’s according to the canonized teachings of Jesus. But I’m sure you’re too busy smugly reading about Elijah and how he mocked the impotence of Baal….

My Favorite Things

I’ve had a line from a song stuck in my head for about a week now: “If you like piña coladas….” That’s the only line I know, and since I don’t at all enjoy cloying cocktails, I have no idea why I keep singing this line. The song is a trite one about someone finding his soul mate in the classifieds by listing various they like to do, which made me start thinking about the Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II song, My Favorite Things. I don’t really know the words to that one either. In fact, the songs I know the lyrics to are limited to a few nursery rhymes and 80’s cartoon theme songs.

Relying solely on memory, my guess was that Rodgers was employing in this song an old trick of the trade that in medieval times was used as proof that the devil is always lurking in the shadows. In any major key, if you play the same notes beginning on the sixth note in that scale, you will be playing a minor key. Musicians call this the relative minor. I imagined the song skipped along in a major tonality until the B section ("When the dog bites…"), where he deftly switched to the relative minor.

The first thing I noticed upon hearing the actual tune was that the Julie Andrews version is atrocious. Singing is eschewed in favor of acting cutesy. Thankfully, the original Mary Martin version is listenable. And, as it turns out, I was totally incorrect in my imagined assessment. The song is played in E minor, which, in part because it only has one accidental (F#), is, for lack of a better description, gentle on the ears. (I remember as a kid asking a music teacher what minor keys were and being told it was a scale of notes that sounded spooky. This is an egregiously inadequate explanation.)

The song begins only with a B and the whole first phrase uses only two other notes, E and F#. It then gradually harmonically expands these notes in a manner reminiscent of Beethoven (for example), unraveling the notes cautiously and politely in a lilting, un-syncopated waltz. Then, the contrast in the B section is done simply by imposing a slur leading into a rest on the downbeat of every other measure. Simple. He is, after all, writing a children’s song.

Less than a year after the song debuted on Broadway in The Sound of Music and long before the movie adaptation, John Coltrane used My Favorite Things as a vehicle tune to reintroduce the soprano saxophone, an instrument that had been played by Sidney Bechet, a major figure in the development of jazz at the turn of the century, but had been virtually completely neglected since. Coltrane plays the melody in an elastic 6/8 time- common in African music but almost never heard in classical Western music- over a steadily repeating piano vamp (courtesy of McCoy Tyner) channeling an Afro-Cuban tumbao part. Adding syncopation immediately renders Rodger’s B section gimmick useless, and, in fact, Coltrane never plays the B section at all. Instead, Coltrane tacks a two measure turnaround onto the A section. A “turnaround” is a device frequently employed in jazz as a means to fluidly get from the end of a melody line back to the beginning. Once in place, the turnaround enables Coltrane to loop the A section ad nauseum. Indeed, Coltrane explores the A section in depth, but when he finally breaks free from it, he performs a parallel or, more generally, a modal transformation of the song, turning it from E minor to E major!

Whereas switching from a minor key to the relative major (for example, from E minor to G major) uses the same notes starting in two different places along the scale, a parallel change from E minor to E major involve different scale notes but start in the same place. The final movements of several late Romantic era Russian compositions, such as Rachmaninoff’s Symphony #2, also explore this move from E minor to E major. Coltrane, like every innovator, had been diligently doing his homework in researching the innovators that came before.

This may all be a bit tedious to you, and if so, you will be relieved that I removed an entire section elaborating on tonal modality, but are really going to want to kick my ass when I reveal my point in mentioning all this: the manipulation of frequencies, dynamics and tempos in sounds are among my favorite things. Another of my favorite things is researching innovators.

I am often criticized for being too picky. Call me what you will, but sometimes I feel like the complaint is really that I’m too curious. We humans are wired to enjoy all things magical. Where magic doesn’t exist, we maintain it with willful ignorance. Humans become conservative in order to avoid having to come to terms with the possibility that their knowledge, experiences or beliefs are sub-par. Anthropologically, the best explanation I can guess for this condition is that a sober assessment of reality would cause suicide rates to skyrocket and procreation rates to plummet. (Perhaps that’s just a pithy circular argument, i.e. we enjoy the magical because reality sucks.) Sometimes, finding out too much about something does destroy the allure. (One example that comes to mind is meeting George Clinton.) Other times, however, as is the case with John Coltrane’s musical endeavors, further discovery can increase the appeal to the point of obsession. For me, these are the truly wonderful things in life, which is why everybody’s constant yammering about how much they like something that they know little to nothing about will continue to peeve me to no end. But, to honor the example of Coltrane’s interpretation of My Favorite Things, I am going to attempt to avoid negativity and focus on things that make me happy.

Here are a few more of my favorite things: watching baseball (biased toward San Francisco Giants), watching soccer (biased toward FC Barcelona), playing disc golf, eating Thai food, eating seafood, drinking single malt Scotch whisky, making cocktails, laughing with friends, being able to say offensive things without anyone taking offense, watching Japanese movies, tinkering with non-digital gadgets, studying military history, debunking myths, giving massages, wielding knives, getting tattooed, female orgasms, listening to cicadas and thunderstorms, campfires, playing Risk, keeping abreast of advances in physics, science fiction in general, gaining independence in skill and thought, perusing thrift stores and estate sales, Glencairn whisky glasses, being in the presence of the ocean, exercising conscious awareness of sensory information, analyzing everything and hot showers.

Midwest Vegetarian Living

I became a vegetarian in January of 1995, shortly after reading an essay as part of a college ethics course that supposed if aliens came to earth who could live on human blood and/or orange juice, we would prefer for them to only drink orange juice. This is one of those Red Herring non-arguments that has nothing to do with the so-called omnivore’s dilemma (no, I haven’t read it), because were it to compare apples to apples, the aliens would have a choice of eating cow’s meat and/or drinking orange juice. No human omnivore I know condones anyone, including aliens, drinking human blood. Regardless, that essay encouraged me to start reading up on the meat industry, and I stopped eating meat while educating myself.

As it turns out, the American mass meat industry is vile.

More interesting though, is the consistent responses you get from culturally ignorant meat eaters (Iowans) upon hearing of your vegetarianism. The most frequent first question is, “Where do you get your protein?” For starters, even that stupid food pyramid these people learned growing up recommends almost the same amount of meat as candy be consumed on a daily basis. How much protein do they think one needs? More offensive, they are actually implying their diet, which likely consists largely of fried food and hamburgers, is more nutritious than mine. I frankly don’t even know where to begin to respond to that amount of ignorance. Where do they get their vitamins and minerals? They seem completely oblivious to the fact that the typical American Bible-thumper diet is the most unhealthy one on the planet while other countries or religions with a largely meat-free diet are the healthiest. Finally, as it turns out, virtually everything contains some protein. I can immediately list all kinds of places I regularly get high doses of protein: pinto (often refried) beans, black-eyed peas, chick peas (hummus), lentils (Oh, the days when I could get good Ethiopian food!), almonds, cashews, peanuts (peanut butter), spinach, wheat flour, rice, eggs, edamame… speaking of which, I think it’s pretty awesome not only that people in Iowa don’t know what edamame is, but that you can’t find it in the grocery stores here. They’re immature soybeans, dipshits. Yeah, that stuff that’s growing acre upon acre all around you. Which leads to the second most common first response in understanding vegetarians: “What do you eat, then- tofu?”

Trust me, these people have no clue what tofu is. (It’s soybeans that have been mashed, strained and curdled.) Yes, I do eat tofu. But I think it’s hilarious that the only alternative they can conceive to eating meat is eating a meat substitute. Try looking for food in places other than the meat aisle; I think you’ll see a few options. One of the most bizarre questions I get seasonally is, “What are you going to eat for Thanksgiving?” Um, everything except the turkey, the stuffing that you shoved up the turkey’s ass and the gravy made from mystery turkey liquids and parts- and everything you assholes insisted upon unnecessarily throwing bacon into. Of all the places to worry about finding something to eat, the Thanksgiving table lands near the bottom. No, I am not eating a Tofurkey- they are fucking disgusting.

For some reason, many people assume vegetarians do not care about the taste of food. Somehow, they are under the impression that all foods other than meat are bland and/or gross. I suppose you would get that idea if you surrounded your meat with white bread, American processed “cheese-like” food and iceburg lettuce- all of which are among the blandest foods on the planet- and drowned it in ketchup and yellow mustard, which are absolutely horrid. Good job on having four different preparations of potatoes as your side dish options: baked, mashed, fried or cut super thin then fried. Bland, bland, salt and salt. (Potatoes and potato products are alright; I’m demonstrating the mundanity in typical Midwestern diets while using a little hyperbole.) I am fond of dozens of herbs and seasonings in addition to salt. I love what Iowans would call spicy food. I call it flavorful. I tend to keep several varieties of chili peppers on hand. Also, what is all this dried, canned or frozen shit that everybody is buying? Most of that crap has had the flavor sucked and zapped out of it. Those frozen TV dinner things that they don’t call TV dinners anymore are appalling. Meanwhile, there are farmer’s markets all over the place in Iowa all summer long full of locally grown, seasonal and fresh produce and herbs. Texture-wise, Portobello mushrooms and well-prepared eggplant are not only extraordinarily delicious, but what you’d call meaty.

The one meat substitute on the market I do very much enjoy is called Soyrizo. It works great in red pasta sauces and tacos. I was very excited and relieved to find Soyrizo in Iowa (after having no luck procuring it in Alabama), but recently the chain nearest me began stocking a competitor’s brand of a similar looking product instead. I tried it and it is not nearly as good, so I complained. The guy said they were trying that brand to see how it would sell. “Well, why couldn’t you keep both brands in stock?” I asked. He looked at me like I was crazy. Why the hell would vegetarians need options, he seemed to be thinking. Meanwhile, that store has 20 brands of the same flavor of soda to choose from. Okay, excuse me- it’s called “pop” here.

The third comment I get is, “Ooh, you have to be careful- I knew this so-and-so who tried being a vegetarian and got really sick.” I don’t know- maybe you only know idiots. Birds of a feather…. I have now been a vegetarian for over 15 years, and can tell you truthfully I am the healthiest person I have ever met. Other’s “concerns” are generally thinly disguised scare-tactics and excuses. I listen to my body, and sometimes I will find myself craving peanut butter or something like that. Really, my biggest concern is to not get dehydrated, but I don’t know if that has anything to do with being a vegetarian. I drink a lot of liquids. I don’t really care for most sweets, desserts or other sugary foods that are rampant in American cuisine (what is the deal with sugar-laced cereals for breakfast?!), but have concluded that sugar cravings are a sign of dehydration. I have found myself a bit anemic at times, which is no different from when I did eat meat. Kidney and pinto beans, beets, curry (which is perhaps my favorite thing), spinach, collards, sauerkraut, molasses, walnuts, almonds, asparagus and I think broccoli (which I’m not particularly a huge fan of) are great sources of iron. The best meat sources of iron are oysters, clams and beef liver, and all of those can be highly toxic. One thing I do is maintain a high intake of vitamin C, which aids the body in absorbing many minerals, including iron, and builds the immune system. I consume vast amounts of citrus juices, occasionally with alcohol which, incidentally, also helps the body absorb iron. I don’t take any vitamin or mineral supplements, and sort of think they are bullshit, but did used to take vitamin C supplements to prevent nosebleeds (which I frequently got in high school while a meat eater) and still do if I’m feeling the signs of oncoming illness, which for me is almost always a sore throat. (Excess vitamin C gets peed out anyway, so there’s no reason to be choking down 500 ml a day.) While it is commonly claimed that vegans are at risk of vitamin B12 deficiency, this does not apply to me as I consume eggs on a regular basis. This is a heavily exaggerated risk even for vegans, as humans only need trace amounts of vitamin B12 and it is stored in the body for long periods of time. (In contrast to vegetarians, I have met a few unhealthy, not to mention neurotic, vegans.)

Dairy products are the most obvious source of calcium, but it is also abundant in most foods also rich in iron as well as oranges, and is otherwise not that good for you. Contrary to popular belief, vitamin D is not found naturally occurring in dairy; it comes from egg yolks and the sun. (The United States dairy lobby is HUGE.) Many children and some adults are allergic to the proteins or lactose in grazing mammals’ milk. I think cow’s milk is ghastly to drink straight out of the carton, and only use it for some cooking recipes, especially soups. I prefer almond quote-unquote milk. Actually, I tend to use heavy cream instead of milk for cooking, because then I can also use it to make Ramos Fizzes (another topic…). I also don’t personally like the taste of most of those milk derivative dairy products, such as yogurt, cottage cheese, sour cream, etc. Yuck. I am a big fan of butter, and I love cheese! Soft cheeses like brie and feta, stinky cheeses like camembert and stilton, semi-hard cheeses like cheddar and swiss, chevre aka goat cheeses and hard cheeses like asiago are all a fairly regular part of my diet. These are not nutritious, however, and I have to be careful not too consume too much cheese.

I do infrequently eat meat, especially raw seafood and fish aka sashimi (not so much an issue in Iowa, where, in case you hadn't noticed, there is no fresh seafood), perhaps twice a year, which brings up two concerns others are quick to emote. First, I have never gotten sick from eating meat after having been a vegetarian. I hear this a lot, especially from vegetarians who refuse to ever eat meat because they insist it makes them violently sick. If it does, it’s most likely either a paranoia induced self-fulfilling prophecy or they decided to eat meat after drinking a case of beer and it’s an obvious misdiagnosis. Also, vegetarianism does not need to be treated like some damned religion. Once, while eating out with someone I’d been with for nearly a year, I accidentally ordered a dish at a restaurant with scallops, not knowing what they were, and, instead of unnecessarily and embarrassingly freaking out at the waiter like the immature brat next to me, I simply ate it. Even though this was the first meat I’d eaten in some years, my date, a regular meat eater, immediately declared, “You’re not a vegetarian.” Whatever; my lifestyle is not the source of our planet’s environmental concerns. (My two fish a year are not endangering the ocean’s food supply.) When I am a guest at someone’s house and they serve me meat, I will often try some. It’s preferable to show respect and demonstrate humble gratitude instead of being one of those pompous, judgmental asshole vegetarians shoving their dogmas down other’s throats.

Another comment that is either too clever or too idiotic for most Iowans, but I have gotten from some new age neo-hippies goes, “You have to kill root vegetables before eating them, too. How’s that more acceptable than killing an animal?” Actually, this is sort of a take on that ethics class example. The best response to this would be to hand that person a live chicken and a potted beet and ask them to demonstrate their belief that killing a chicken is the same as killing a beet. If they bow out with, “I wouldn’t kill either one,” announce, “Okay, let me demonstrate,” and see which one they protect first. It irritates me how few meat eaters have ever killed the animals they’ve eaten, or would actually kill what they eat. It strikes me as hypocritical and cowardice; like hiring a hit man.

I have no problem with people raising and eating animals in a self-sustaining, environmentally aware and humane way. However, killing for sport is about as fucked up as you can get. It should be obvious that it’s a bad idea to encourage or exercise the idea that killing is fun. People that are willing to kill animals creep me out, but, especially since we’ve killed off most natural predators other than ourselves, I understand they do play a necessary role in our world. As do terrorists.

Common Sense And Other Tales

During my first overnight camping trip, at the age of four, my dad taught me how to make an archery bow out of a green sapling and nylon string. At five, I could tie several knots and differentiate between tinder, kindling and fuel. Peter appeared when I was eight or so, and by then I could pitch a tent, wield an axe, lash a fence, rig a fishing pole, fire a black powder rifle and properly sharpen a knife.

“Peter just has no common sense,” my dad would say, shaking his head. Dad led our church’s all-male scouting group, which met every Wednesday evening. We drove 40 miles each way to these meetings for several years, as we did to two services every Sunday, during the time when Pastor Steve led the church in Webster City. For a period we picked up Peter along the way. This guy had a knack for breaking everything. To this day, you can’t go on a camping trip with my family and ask, “Who broke this?” without the inevitable reply- “Peter.”

As an example, while setting up tents at the beginning of one camping trip, Peter asked if he could help. “Sure,” my dad said, “Grab one of those tomahawks and hammer in those tent pegs.” Yes, we did have several tomahawks lying around. Oh, does that seem weird to you? Also, our tent pegs were railroad spikes. Anyway, Peter took a hack at driving in a railroad spike using the sharp end of the throwing hatchet instead of the butt-end, leaving a remarkable chip in the blade.

Peter was several years older than me; closer to my brother’s age. My brother knew algebra. Peter did not know left from right. I began to wonder what common sense was and why Peter didn’t have it. Dad began taking some extra time to thoroughly explain things to Peter. I asked why Peter’s own dad didn’t teach him these things, and my dad explained that some kids don’t have responsible or attentive dads and others didn’t have dads at all. It occurred to me that common sense was something akin to things your parents are supposed to teach you.

My first pocket knife had raccoons etched on the blade. When I showed it to Peter, he couldn’t figure out how to work the locking mechanism that keeps the blade from slipping shut. After demonstrating how it worked, he promptly closed it on himself and cut a finger. I quickly fetched a band-aid, hoping I wasn’t going to get in trouble for being in part responsible for the mishap, and watched wide-eyed as Peter futilely tried to figure out how to apply the bandage. I eventually had to adhere it myself. Peter had no common sense.

Dad had given me this knife during a strange fishing trip a few years prior. We attended a much closer church in Fort Dodge then, and it was evenly divided into the older teenage kids- Sean, Jay, Troy and my brother, and the younger grade school kids- Stevie, Trent, Jeremy and myself. Honestly, the other kids were a bunch of hoodlums. Fort Dodge was a poor and rough-and-tumble town. My dad was in charge of the older kids and Jeremy’s dad was in charge of the younger kids. Jeremy’s dad taught us the scouting group's Code and the definitions of some of the strange words it contained, including “loyal,” “courteous” and “obedient.” I specifically recall him defining loyal as, “You know, being loyal to someone or something,” which I realized was no explanation whatsoever. I wondered if he knew what it meant.

On the day I received the knife, we went fishing near a spillway in Fort Dodge, and were given strict instructions to be very careful around the dam- no getting near the water, no running and no climbing or crossing the protective barriers. Before long, us younger kids had gotten bored with fishing and were running, climbing and shoving each other on top of the spillway.

Suddenly, we noticed a commotion below where the big kids still were, and Jeremy’s dad seemed to be attending to my dad, who was holding his back. Without knowing what was going on, I decided I’d better start following instructions and stopped horsing around with the other kids. Shortly thereafter, one of them slid down the spillway and probably would have drowned if my dad hadn’t gone in after him and fetched him out of the water. (I honestly don’t remember which kid it was, but for easier readability later on, I’m going to suppose it was Trent.) After that, it was time to leave, and as we packed things up dad gave me the raccoon-laden pocket knife with strict instructions as to its proper usage, and I considered this my reward for being relatively obedient.

The scouting group meetings generally consisted of a morality lesson and a fun activity. One activity was ring-toss, which consisted of attempting to throw wooden shower curtain rings around the neck of one of a cluster of soda bottles. The reward for accomplishing this feat was the bottle itself, but since I didn’t particularly care for soda, I found the game a bit tedious. One day while this activity was taking place, Peter revealed a box, and inside was a set of handcuffs replete with key. These things were pretty much the coolest thing I had ever seen.

Peter said they belonged to his dad, who was a cop. By this time I had determined that Peter didn’t have a father, because of the common sense thing, so this bombshell surprised me. However, Stevie’s dad at that other church was a cop, too, and Stevie was the worst behaving kid of the bunch. So it seemed even police officers could be bad fathers. After that, I’d continually ask Peter to bring the handcuffs again, but he never did. Also, his stories pertaining to his father’s occupation and whereabouts was in constant flux, so I began to suspect he was inventing him like Dill in To Kill a Mockingbird.

On one camping trip, while a few of us were milling around in our tent, separate from the adults, the taboo topic of girls came up. “What would you do if a girl drove into the campgrounds right now?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, uninterested. It seemed a stupid premise. Girls weren’t allowed on these camping trips. Anyway, I had a sister who wasn’t particularly mysterious, so I was simply glad for the respite from one being around.

Peter, however, went into a monologue: “First, I’d bring her back into this tent and close the flap. And zip up all the windows. Then, I’d slowly unbutton her blouse, starting at the top and working my way down…”

“Why would you want to do that?” I interrupted. Peter gave me an indecipherable look. I didn’t know whether it meant my question was stupid or that he didn’t actually know the answer, either. I never got the chance to find out, as Little Steve, the pastor’s kid, quickly put an abrupt end to the conversation.
After pondering this awkward moment, I concluded that this was another example of Peter’s lack of parental guidance. Otherwise he would have known better than to have inappropriate fantasies about girls.

On another occasion, my dad returned home late, and mentioned it was because he had been visiting a kid in prison. It was a kid from the Fort Dodge church’s scouting group way back when who I didn’t immediately remember, but eventually recognized as the infrequent member who had once shown me how to construct an effective paper airplane. How could someone smart enough to know that be in jail? “I think his dad had a drinking problem and might have been abusive,” my dad explained. “Do you remember- we visited his house once to try and help and I even reported his situation to social services, but they didn’t do anything.” I vaguely remembered. “He was the one who threw the knife at me.”

“What?!” This was certainly news to me.

“It was on that same fishing trip when Trent fell in the spillway. At the previous meeting we had done an activity and as a prize I had given him a pocket knife with raccoons on the blade- I think you have it now. Anyway, I think his dad must have found him with it and he’d gotten in trouble for it, because the next week during that fishing trip he drove up, got out of the car and threw the knife at me while I was sitting at a picnic table and it hit me square in the back. Luckily, it had rotated so the point of the handle hit me even though the blade was out but he still threw it hard enough that it really hurt. At first, I thought I’d been shot.”

“That’s not why he’s in jail, is it?”

“Oh no, I figured he had enough problems. I guess I was right.”

Why would my dad now be going out of his way to visit an incarcerated person who had once tried to kill him? It defied common sense, unless I was to stick with my original interpretation of the term.

I find an exploration of the term “common sense” yields more questions than answers. I assume the idea is a derivative of the Jungian concept of the collective unconscious, which I, as a subjective individual, can only see as a load of hooey. I don’t believe I can remember things that didn’t happen to me. Will a bird raised in isolation still fly south for the winter without being introduced to a migrating flock? Hell if I know; nor do I consider the question germane. Instincts are distinctly separate to memory, as the former are things done without a previous sensory influence.

I have no idea how accurate or precise my memories are, nor am I able to perceive to what degree they have been altered, influenced or changed over time. Are my remembrances more or less influential than the actual experiences I’ve had, many of which are totally irretrievable to my consciousness? I don’t know the answer to that question, either.

My friend Eric is fond of postulating, “Can you think it if you can’t say it?” It is a clever question in part because the quest for the answer requires both intense examination and detailed articulation. In the end, I’m of the opinion that the impression that it often takes years to properly explain things that have been known all along point toward the reality that we can’t say much of what we think. An example is the person who can provide the answer to a math problem but is incapable of “showing his work,” or demonstrating the method used to come to that solution. However, even if it is in fact correct, one cannot trust the conclusion without demonstrating a fully coherent process of obtaining it. It would be unjustifiable to place any validity in unexplainable beliefs.

Does an unsolved mathematical equation have a solution? The best answer we can give is simply to try and solve it. Yet, I firmly believe that questions without answers exist in abundance. One seemingly useless thing to do is simply assume an answer and then assume that answer is the correct answer.

At least one impossible question is immediately posited here: If the blade of that knife had found its mark, who would have saved Trent from drowning?” There are no answers to purely hypothetical questions with no applicable predetermined rules. There is no point it wondering, “What if….” Life is what it is, which is to some degree separate from how we remember it to be, unless we are to argue life doesn’t exist at all, but is a figment of our own imaginations. That assumption must be rejected on the grounds that it forces us into an egocentric existence where nobody else matters. Because it cannot be demonstrated otherwise, we must assume the consciousness of the other is as relevant as our own. (I am making an argument that can align itself with Pascal’s wager here: it would be a lesser transgression to assume equality and be wrong than it would to assume inequality and be wrong.)

I often find my mind returning to moments in life that found me bewildered. Many of these seem to pertain to juxtapositions between the world those who raised us intended us to see, and the world as it reveals itself despite them. I am reminded of another scene from To Kill A Mockingbird, when Atticus says, “There's a lot of ugly things in this world, son. I wish I could keep 'em all away from you. That's never possible.” As illustrated in Plato’s allegory of the cave, refusing to question the validity of how we immediately see things is detrimental to our growth.

In the years since Peter, I’ve come to the conclusion that when people say, “It’s common sense,” what they mean is they are incapable of effectively explaining their reasoning, likely because the logic is dubious, so they will instead refuse to answer on the unfounded grounds that the question is stupid. I see no evidence that common sense exists at all, but that some of us are better inclined towards finding reasonable and effective solutions than others.