martinis, the dirty kind

The Marina Del Rey Cheesecake Factory is entirely to blame for my current addiction. It was there on a dark and stormy night* last December where I first experienced the exquisite martini made dirty by blue cheese stuffed olives.

Never had I expected to consider any other martini but the classic:  Gin or vodka and vermouth, several pristine olives, preferably green queens, marinating in the crystal liquid.

Dirty martinis were an aberration, muddying what nature intended as sparkling and pure. The riff raft who ordered them were the very same vulgarians who call anything added to vodka in a stem glass a martini – lemon drop “martinis”, espresso “martinis”, for the tea lovers Earl Grey “martinis.”

Maybe it was the 2-hour wait to deboard at LAX, navigating the chaotic terminal, something changed.  My normally rigid requirements loosened.

Soon enough, there it was.  Through the murky interior, 3 large green olives nestled inside the frosted glass. And I knew I had been waiting all my life for this deliciously sublime experience.

* Edward Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford

pop out those pimentos or treat yourself to pitted olives from the deli bar


shaken not stirred



Predicting the Future

Notice the message bottom of screen appearing when Patriots were on the 25 yard line, BEFORE they won the game with a touchdown.


It’s freezing in here.

Heritage buildings may not be known for their cozy interiors when it’s cold outside.

Sitting, working, freezing.

Those who shake my hand are freeze dried, frozen upright.

Odd that people I’ve known for years, who never cared to touch me in any way are reaching out, needing to make contact.

They chill. A subtle tremor is evident.

And they are thinking, I’ve known her all these years and I had no idea she was so Brrrrr cold.

It would probably go better if I shut the window.

American friends, …you crazy undecideds, It’s Decision Time


Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton Final presidential debate on October 19,2016.

Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton Final presidential debate on October 19,2016.



I don’t like the look of that.


My prediction: Hillary Clinton by a landslide
but I’ve been wrong before

Alec Baldwin, Kate McKinnon, you’ve been wonderful.


Saturday Night Live

Politically Incorrect

My nephew Pete



took the time machine back to Halloween 1985, where he was an inappropriate


office manager


with a little too much time on his hands



but the ladies didn’t seem to mind.


Assume The Position

Equestrian:  (noun) a rider or performer on horseback [Oxford Dictionary]

The 2016 Rio Olympics Equestrian event:


I’m sorry, what? I thought the Olympic Games are for humans. Horses want to compete in the Olympics?  They aren’t perfectly content galloping in the wild?

Wild –



Olympics –

Ian Millar on the back of Star Power

Ian Millar on the back of Star Power

Don’t you agree Star Power would be a lot happier without Ian Miller on his back, and without that bit in his mouth?

The bit:

one of the more gentle bits, the mullen

one of the more gentle bits, the mullen [Wikipedia]

how would you like someone pulling back on this in your mouth? -the wire snaffle

how would you like someone pulling back on this in your mouth? -the wire snaffle [Wikimedia Commons]

Bitted horses often open their mouths… to avoid contact pain. [Buckit List  Lahle Wolfe, November 28, 2013]


Hwang Woojin, South Korea, and his horse Shearwater Oscar, 2012 Olympics

2012 South Korean entry


“Equestrian:  The only Olympic sport in which men and women compete against each other on a level playing field.”   [Rio 2016 web site]

That is, horses’ backs.

Dressage (performing a routine by memory), jumping, and cross country [an “endurance” test “to prove the speed, endurance and jumping ability” Wikipedia] should go ahead with just the riders, poshed up in their riding boots, pants, jackets and hats.

As spectacular as this looks, imagine how much more pleasurable, challenging it will be without the horse:

Henrik Von Eckermann [the rider] in the 2012 Olympics

Henrik Von Eckermann [the rider] in the 2012 Olympics

Take the equus out of equestrian.

Henrik Von Eckermann, assume the position:

Arms outstretched;

Hands clenched as if holding reins;

Traversing the course in a galloping gait.


Wouldn’t you really rather see that red jacketed competitor assuming the position?

Chariot racing ended almost 2,000 years ago.

Friends, it’s 2016.

Riders (an archaic term used before animals were banned from Olympic competition):

Assume The Position

A hush falls through the crowd.

A pistol fires. And they’re off!



2016 June whisky

Every month The Scotch Malt Whisky Society holds at least one tasting event at Legacy Liquor Store, the only retail outlet in Vancouver selling The Society’s scotch. Society buyers ship it by the cask from Scotland, and bottle it in Vancouver.

As we take our places around a large wooden table with trays of appropriate finger foods spread about – figs, sausages, olives, dried fruit, cheeses, chocolate and nuts, the evening begins with our host enthusing about our great good fortune at being here tonight. This is followed by some chat about a very large distillery by the English border who sells all of their whisky to one city in China that we’ve never heard of.

Thus, it is especially important for us to fully comprehend the blessings we all share; that is, scotch whisky is still to be had in Scottish distilleries farther north, where they haven’t yet realized how much faster they could sell this liquid gold without any distribution bureaucracy by shipping it straight to Asia.

I don’t need any reminders about my good fortune. It was a miracle I got a ticket. After they are turned over to the riff raft online, there is a window of opportunity of 1.45 minutes, with no warning when it’s coming, to grab a spot.

We are reminded as we savour each sip: When it’s gone, it’s gone.

And before that, before it’s gone, if I brought all $286 in my piggy bank in the hope of buying a bottle I would probably be out of luck because I don’t belong to the Society.

After inhaling a portion of the glass I’m ready for a wee taste. Yikes, that’s strong.  60% strong. I drop in a little water and taste again. Better.

The polite formality slowly slips under the table as we make our way through the offerings.

If you don’t drink scotch, or your whisky drinking involves ice and coke, you may have never considered that the dram you are drinking is a cousin of Genie in a Bottle. – from the Summer Picnic outturn:  “…a puff of flittering, well rounded, perfused smoke.” [emphasis theirs]

Or A Ballerina at the Barbecue:  “Our ballerina sits on damp decking tending to her weary toes with TCP antiseptic and lint bandage from an antiquated first aid box.”


“A Bloody Mary revives her flagging spirit as she lights a fire pit to start cooking white fish wrapped in bacon and spritzed with lime juice.”

ok, it’s getting better

“She snacks on popcorn with sea salt and cracked black pepper and cucumber sandwiches from warm Tupperware.”

There’s the “Juicy, oak & vanilla” of Tantalizing Tannins, the “Sweet, fruity & mellow” Lay Your Head On My Pillow, or the “Deep, rich & dried fruits” of Summer’s Night In Lovers’ Lane:  “…butterflies of scent…The palate was equally multidimensional – Danish pastries and butter croissants, juicy grass and pipe tobacco, plus ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg spice. The reduced nose was just as inspiring…hot summer nights in Lovers’ Lane after rain (telegraph poles and honeysuckle).

Who makes this stuff up?

… oh, honeysuckle, yes, I’m getting that now.

%d bloggers like this: