National Babe Ruth Day – April 27th
Grab a hot dog and a beer and catch a game on the tube!
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Layla
Layla, you’ve got me on my knees
Layla, I’m begging, darling please
Layla, darling won’t you ease my worried mind
I’ll have a Hendrick’s dry Martini. Two olives, please.
– Maserati Mike reporting live from Layla’s in Lake Chelan, Washington
National Picnic Day – April 23rd
Break out the picnic basket and the cooler! And tomorrow is National Pool Opening Day. Tuck those Covid 19 extra pounds into your swim suit, get on the diving board and show us you still have that half-gainer!
-Jet Cannon
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National Jelly Bean Day
Yes it is! Break out the beans!
Inspired by the very successful and satisfying Lucky Charm marshmallow vodka shots from St. Patrick’s Day, the Buzzed Boomer Research Department endeavored to try Jelly Belly vodka shots. Now keep in mind there are “Jelly Bean” shots on the Interweb but these are concoctions that don’t use the actual bean. Just liqueurs. The Buzzed Boomer team wanted authenticity and so we sorted through the beans to find five or six of the same flavor then carefully chopped them into little pieces. The pieces were dropped in little jars to blend and dissolve overnight. Unlike marshmallows, which dissolved instantly, the beans don’t. So the shots, if left unstrained, reminds us of a cloudy Goldschlager with little bits of “gold” almost floating. Actually the Jelly bits just sit in the bottom of the now quasi-appropriately colored vodka. But how’s the flavor??!! Did the vodka take on the remarkable flavors associated with Jelly Bellys? Close!!! Pretty darn good! Worth a shot!!
– Jet Cannon
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No buzz in Those Greens!
Brussel Sprouts still suck, just not as bad as they used to. At the table growing up . . . big brothers (cool, snickery); a sister (holding her own); mom (ringleader, cook); dad (dropped off by carpool at 5:23 pm, a little later on his driving day, serving up); and me (punk, dragged in from kick the can or whatever) . . . there was almost always something tasty on offer. Seems incredible even to me, but we all showed up pretty much every night for many years.
Which was fine, a little stiff at times but more than a few laughs along the way and like I say, decent-plus edibles (thanks mom!!). And eating together forms bonds (I didn’t know that then). Except Brussel Sprouts. We weren’t poor so they weren’t canned. But we weren’t rich so we had no notion of “fresh” (dirty? European?) A&P didn’t have fresh anyway. My mom boiled the living Ess out of those frozen, piss-green balls. Stunk up the place. Mouth-feel like the inside of a waterlogged baseball, taste like paste and not the minty kind; rotten spinach, fish? Bad. I cut a deal with the dog – you eat my Sprouts, I shoot you a couple extra Milk Bones.
All that’s changed of course. Now you get BS on the stalk or at least fresh in a zip-lock bag with sell-by date. Try this: Baking pan. A little bacon fat (ok more than a little), salt ‘n peppa, olive oil and lemon. Preheat to 6750 deg. Shove it in and 10 min later, Boom!!. Crispy on the outside — leaves shatter and bacony. Tender on the inside – smooth, the sour gone, almost sweet. Earthy not dirty.
But that pure high never lasts. Along comes oven-roasted BS No. 18, a bigger one that didn’t quite caramelize or tenderize . . . maybe a rough time growing up on Better Than You Organic Farm. Bite into that Eff’er and well, where is the dog??
Old Man Wrong
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Happy 420
Okay Baby Boomers. If you only indulge in cannabis once a year, this is your day!! Allegedly started by some highs school-age Boomers in San Rafael around 1971, 420 was code for smoking at their usual 4:20 PM time. Or something like that. Nowdays there’s a celebration on “Hippie Hill” in Golden Gate Park.
If cannabis is not your thing, then raise a toast to you fellow Boomers to show that you’re really hip.
-Jet Cannon
And Yet, Here We Are!
I miss the Cold War. As wars go, it was a good one because hardly anyone died. And yet it generated really cool stuff like nuclear submarines that could launch nuclear-tipped missiles from underwater, long-range bombers, ICBM silos in South Dakota farm land, Nike rockets perched on local hilltops designed to shoot down Soviet bombers, powerful radars searching for enemy bombers or missiles coming over the North Pole, and underwater listening devices to seek out Soviet subs. My lunch box featured nuclear ballistic missile sub USS George Washington. That sucker could launch 16 Polaris missiles at the Soviets in a matter of minutes! Good thing, too, because during the Cuban Missile Crisis a few Soviet sub commanders were minutes away from firing nuclear-tipped torpedoes at our ships blockading Cuba. And had they fired, well, we would have had to retaliate.
Just to make sure our bombs worked, there was extensive testing of those devices. More than one thousand tests. Seems like a lot. But how much fun would that be!! Code-names Trinity (first), Able, Baker, X-ray, Yoke, Zebra, Fox, Dog, George (first thermonuclear), Item, Sugar, Uncle, King, Nancy, Ruth, Dixie, Ray, Badger, Climax, Romeo, Hornet, Project 56, Kickapoo, Mohawk, Franklin, John (air-to-air missile), Saturn, Newton, Rainier, Argus I (300 miles altitude), Swordfish (anti-submarine rocket), Raccoon, Packrat…… you get the idea. Lots and lots of tests. Many air drops. In other words, not buried to contain the radioactivity. I had a thermos of milk in my USS George Washington lunch box. No doubt my milk was laced with Strontium 90 from all that fallout circling the globe, landing on the grass that our patriotic cows dutifully ate.
Remember fall out shelters? We had one at my elementary school. Maybe Dad dug one in the back yard. How about those sirens that went off every week at the same time on the same day.(some powered by hemi V8 engines….. very loud). Duck and cover kids! Don’t look at the flash.
And yet, we’re still here!!
Jet Cannon
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Does this count as a serving of fruit?
Fruit and beer. Orange IPA. Yummy. I think I’ll have another.
- Maserati Mike – Reporting live from Redlands, California
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Cure for the dry creek blues…… raspados
Want to work up a powerful, cotton-mouth thirst? Read the latest from our favorite RV warriors. Luckily, they also offer a cure. Read more.
- Jet Cannon
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Mix and Match Summer Vacation
There are so many creative cocktails on the Interweb and I rarely have the ingredients I need. I don’t want to invest in an expensive bottle of some obscure liqueur that I will rarely use. Modern Gourmet Foods has created a step in the right direction to help me out. Airplane bottle-sized flavorings to create, in this example, summer vacations mixers. Tropical Painkiller, Brazilian Caipirinha, Pina Colada, Blue Hawaiian, Ruby Red Sangria, Peru Sour, Singapore Sling, Peach Bellini, Margarita, and more. How cool is that? Just add alcohol. I’m hoping they have similar box for Fall and Winter! Stay tuned for taste test results.
– Jet Cannon
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What’s The Point?
Where is it that somebody, anybody, knows your name? That you’re greeted with a hearty “welcome”! ? Or the bartender remembers what you prefer to drink and begins crafting your cocktail after receiving only a subtle nod of your head.
One local watering-hole, The Point, is home to the Beer Boys on Friday afternoons. It invites over 21 year olds only. Baby Boomers make the cut. No kids allowed. We like kids but not always when enjoying a coveted cocktail. Where do you find an adults-only setting anymore?
Another local establishment, The Tin Room, located in a former small business where they made I’m-not-sure-what from tin, features cloth napkins and cocktails poured from shakers into a proper cocktail glass right at your table. The bartender definitely knows your name and would shake your hand pre-Covid. It’s a place where you feel like you belong.
It’s nice to belong. That’s the point.
– Jet Cannon
A Boy and his tractor
As a seven or eight year old, I have vivid memories of getting brief tractor rides with grumpy Grandpa Herb as he plowed the fields on his Christmas tree farm. I lived for those rides. The noise and the smell of hydraulic fluid. I loved those rides, however infrequent and short.
My good friend, let’s call him Old Man Earl (several months older than me), just called from his pheasant-hunting property in Eastern Washington where he had just finished using his tractor and brush-hog to mow down great swaths of undergrowth. He was high on life. It didn’t hurt that he had a whiskey and ginger highball in hand with a ribeye on the grill and his trusty canine companion Hank by his side. Oh, but the city-boy turned gentleman-hunter was reveling in the pure joy of manly-man, machinery mojo! Caterpillar Second Shift Steel Toe Work Boots. Carhartt Duck Bib overalls. Farmer’s tan. Nearly-callused hands. Heaven.
Maybe I’ll pick up one of those little green lawn tractors. Not only would it cut down my mowing time to about three minutes total but it could bring back the all-consuming joy of riding the mighty, snorting, mechanical steed.
– Jet Cannon
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National Submarine Day
National Submarine Day, on April 11th, honors the day the United States Navy acquired its first modern commissioned submarine, says nationaldaycalendar.com. On April 11, 1900, the Holland VI became the Navy’s first modern submarine.
My plan is to visit the Horse & Cow Bar & Grill in Bremerton, Washington which is basically a bar in a submarine museum.
Have you seen the Progressive commercial where the don’t-become-your-parents counselor asks, “Who reads submarine books?” And the sheepish answer, “My Dad.” Well….. that’s me.
– Jet Cannon
Photo quota.com
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