Fire!
We visited my sister-in-law and her family this weekend. They live in Kensington, a beautiful town in the hills above Berkeley overlooking San Francisco Bay. It’s a city of winding streets and dead ends, where locals whip around hairpin turns and visitors crawl at 10 mph. It’s a city where every home has a killer view.
Last night, this was the view.
Angel Island caught fire. We went out for dinner at 6:30 PM, got back by 8, and noticed the blaze soon thereafter. It was hard to miss. Initial news reports were laughable (ten acres? You call that ten acres?) The SFGate story seems much more credible (400 acres).
I’ve been to Angel Island. It was back in ’83, when my lab went on a picnic. We took a ferry there and explored the ruins. These days, Angel Island is primarily a campground (fortunately, all of the campers were evacuated without injury last night), but it has served in the past as a cattle ranch, quarantine facility, discharge depot for troops returning from the Spanish-American War, and Japanese/German POW camp during WWII. Briefly, the island hosted a Nike missile base.
By morning, firefighters had done their job and we needed binoculars to see the smoke. I drove down Grizzly Peak Blvd., something I had never done in all my years at Berkeley (not having any wheels might have had something to do with that). What spectacular views! The East Bay was an expanse of evergreens and homes leading out to the Bay; both bridges were in full view; the City’s skyline was crisp against a cloudless blue sky. Without binoculars, you couldn’t even tell there had been drama the night before.
D.
Martini
Slick the vessel with a smear of dry vermouth. Add a bright green olive, a splash of Bombay Sapphire (which has been cooled to liquid nitrogen temperature in the coldest spot of my freezer), and drink.
In college, I never liked gin, mostly because it was cheap gin, reeking of juniper. After that, I would try a martini every five years or so. I was attracted to martinis the way young people of past generations have been drawn to tobacco: the allure of sophistication. Eventually I discovered the good stuff: Hendrick’s, Bombay Sapphire. Minimal juniper, lots of character.
Interesting is the history of the martini. It used to be a much sweeter, much more complicated drink, including such things as maraschino liqueur and sweet vermouth. The modern dry martini apparently found its start in Los Angeles — but even that involved some bitters and a twist of lime in addition to the traditional olive. Jump ahead to a more recent generation for the real deal. From Wiki,
Winston Churchill chose to forgo vermouth completely, saying that the perfect martini involved pouring a glass full of cold gin and looking at a bottle of vermouth. General Patton suggested pointing the gin bottle in the general direction of Italy. Alfred Hitchcock’s recipe called for five parts gin and “a quick glance at a bottle of vermouth.”
Maybe that’s one of the things I find so appealing about martinis: the connection to the past. My dad says my grandfather swigged an ounce of gin every night before bedtime. And as Churchill, Patton, and Hitchcock attest, is this not the driest of martinis?
So here’s the question for discussion: what’s your favorite cocktail, and how do you prepare it? Dry bones, you can play too. Surely you aren’t drinking milk all the time. What’s your pleasure — pink lemonade? Homemade punch?
D.
Hell hath no fury *UPDATED*
Wonder what he did to deserve this:
MANATEE COUNTY – A woman dumped a pot of boiling water on her husband’s groin area as he slept Wednesday morning, according to a Manatee Sheriff’s report.
Maverna T. Turay, 52, of the 600 block of 10th Avenue East, was arrested on a charge of aggravated domestic battery.
Her husband of two years, Ealy Jones Jr., sustained second-degree burns and was taken by emergency helicopter to Tampa General Hospital.
The couple was staying at a home in the 7000 block of Sixth Avenue Northwest watching Turay’s nieces and nephews, deputies reported.
Turay boiled the water as Jones slept and threw it on his groin area, the report said.
Jones ran out of the house screaming, and one of the children called 9-1-1.
Deputies reported that Turay had been drinking beer before the incident.
UPDATED:
My son rightly points out that this is a lame post, certainly not deserving of the Balls and Walnuts brand. He says if I don’t have anything to blog, I shouldn’t blog at all. But the world is full of blog-worthy topics! And so I bring you . . .
Post-debate musings
At first, my gut reaction was “tie.” I’m still in the tank for Obama, of course, but I thought McCain did a little better than I expected him to do. Of course, he’s been screwing up so badly lately that he would have had to piss himself to NOT beat my expectations. As far as I could tell, he did not piss himself.
Gravitas
The book is Hotter than Hell by Jackie Kessler. Loved it. Seriously.
Jackie, I’ll try to do a serious review sometime soon . . .
D.
Intellecshual.s Too
Edited to add:
Defend me, people! Click on the video below and up-rate your favorite Walnut! This one-star BS must not stand!
I’ve never felt any motivation to reply to a YouTube video. No, not even Chris Crocker’s “Leave Brittney Alone” video, which I thought was such self-satire, how could I ever improve upon it? Boy, was I ever wrong.
Yesterday’s introduction to Magibon was . . . well, it was too much for me. And I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Something was bound to snap.
Never thought it would be my garter.
Intellecshual.s
First, watch the video:
It’s the comment thread that rawks. For example,
If it is “getting boring,” then the subtext is that you still find yourself watching these vids despite the logical part of your brain telling you that there is nothing here that you want to admit to liking. These vids are like watching kitten videos, and there are no political ideologies or religious debates to offend anybody. If you feel conflicted, maybe it is a conflict between “your preconception of what you like” and “what you actually like.” There is the analysis, now you can just watch.
and
my farts are more interesting
Eh, I don’t want to ruin it for you . . .
D.
This is vile.
Reprehensible. Disgusting. Lower than the Marianas Trench. Inconceivably detestable. Loathsome. Evidence that we are all damned, damned, damned to hell, that the world is irretrievably lost.
Exclusive First Look: The Sarah Palin Porn Flick.
So revolting, I have to include an excerpt from the script.
PALIN: My oh my. That’s quite a toolbelt you have on. It looks heavy.
JOE: I have a big hammer.
PALIN: Oh, I betcha do. I love a big hammer. But I love screwdrivers, too! And wrenches. The fact is I love and respect all of America’s diverse tools, big and small. They’re what helps make us so great as a nation. Here, let me take that off for ya.
Truly eye-popping, you betcha. *wink*
D.