A small rant

Isn’t that an interesting photo? Kind of like the minimalist stuff you would see in some of our tonier galleries, right?

But that’s not what I’m ranting about today. Do you know why I have these four paper bags?

I have these four paper bags because, in the state of Georgia, you cannot be seen leaving a store having bought a completely legal substance without concealing that substance in a paper bag. It’s kind of like Utah’s law that you cannot, as a bar, mix a cocktail in front of a minor.

These four bags came from Kroger, and of course they were placed in plastic bags — which apparently don’t sufficiently conceal my completely legal purchase.

What on earth is the purpose of this law? If I walk out of Kroger carrying a bottle of white Bordeaux, for example, is Carrie Nations going to rise from her grave and do the Bodysnatchers point-and-scream at me? Is a Baptist going to faint right there in the parking lot? Are little children going to rush the beer aisle and get snockered on IPAs?

Thanks to my paper cloaking device, though, none of these things will happen, I guess. Baptists will never know that I’ve bought a completely legal substance for my personal use, right?

If a callous sophisticate buys a bottle of booze and a Baptist can’t tell what he’s bought because of the paper cloaking device, does the callous sophisticate still go to hell?

Not to alarm you, any Puritans out there reading this, but your paranoia is justified: we are all out here, somewhere, having fun. It is not your job to stop us.

With eyes narrowed and eyebrows raised…

… and with lips pursed withal, I need to express some dissatisfaction with ::waves hands:: all this.

And in particular, I call your attention to the old Brown Steel property on Lower Fayetteville Road, just before the bypass. You should understand that I had plans for that property should I ever win the lottery, and they were as follows:

  • First, buy the Brown Steel property and all the property down to the bypass.
  • Renovate the manufacturing structures there to become studio space for large-scale artists, particularly public sculpture artists. Build some tiny homes onsite to accommodate them. (Maybe some tiny homes for unhoused people as well?)
  • Fund artists with stipends and grants to create large art, which then is displayed in the art park we construct in the forested areas.
  • And then: Create a program for towns that would like to replace their Confederate memorials with something less treason-y. They select four neighborhoods/parks in their town, and then commit to spending $10,000 every two years for ten years. Every two years they get a new piece of public art (which they can choose however they like, subsidized by us) from the Factory, and after two years that sculpture is moved to one of the four parks. The fifth sculpture then is permanent.
  • Also, we have concerts, parties, and galleries onsite at the Factory.

What was not to like?

So it was with a sad heart when I saw the demolition of the Brown Steel plant facilities, and even sadder heart when construction fencing recently went up around that upper half of my art park.[1]

Curiously, there were signs on the construction fencing that had this message on them:

Not the exact sign, but the exact wording

Oh, I thought, that’s new, a construction business that actually preserves as much green as they can. That’s nice.

I knew this was incredibly unlikely, though, so I didn’t get my hopes up, and indeed yesterday I drove by and every single tree, shrub, and plant had been bulldozed.

I realized that I had interpreted the sign to mean:

…when obviously they meant:

My mistake.

And don’t get me started on what to do with the Brown Steel property downtown.[2]

—————

[1] Not to mention my not having won the lottery.

[2] You should absolutely get me started on what to do with the Brown Steel property downtown, Newnan City Council, if that is even your real name.

Tempus fugit

I’ve been under the weather for the past week and a half, just pitifully unable to rise to any occasion. The only productive thing I’ve been able to handle is 1) going back through all my Liberal Rant posts and tagging the ones that need it with a new Propaganda Studies tag; and 2) going back through every post for the past twenty years and making minor edits where necessary. Also, just to recap the past 20 years of my life.

Well.

It’s been a journey for sure, as one project or another, one rant or another, one cocktail or another, bobbed to the surface and sank again. Some posts were very very depressing; others validated my existence. (Some of my Liberal Rants from the 2016 election have proven to excruciatingly predictive.)

I’ll do a little profiling of one or two posts that jumped out at me, but this one took me aback. Feel free to go read it, but here’s the gist:

Reality TV show called The Mimeograph Kitchen, in which three generations of a family are presented with a fairly unappetizing dish (see above) from one of those mimeographed cookbooks so beloved of church groups back in the 1950s/60s — each generation is then challenged to go home and update the recipe to their tastes, bring them back to the studio and compare notes.

Why producers weren’t shoving wads of cash at me for the rights to this idea is still a mystery to me, but you know what, producers? You blew it. It is no longer possible to make Mimeograph Kitchen.

I realized this with a shock as I read this paragraph:

So our reality TV show is called Mimeograph Kitchen, and it will feature besides its host three couples: 1) someone our parents’ age, 70-80, i.e., the generation that produced these things; 2) someone our age, 50-60, the generation that grew up eating this stuff; 3) someone our kids’ age, 20-30, who have never known what it’s like not to have fresh salmon with dill cream sauce and a side of roasted broccoli.  The recipe is presented and discussed by all three couples (reminiscences, reactions, etc.) , and a sample is provided for a tasting.

::sigh::

I wrote that post in 2014, eleven years ago. We are now the 70s–80s generation, and our parents are either no longer with us or are in their 80s–90s — none of whom could rise to the challenge of considering, adapting, and making a completely new recipe. So, no: Mimeograph Kitchen will never be.

So, producers, let that be a warning not to sleep on our other idea, Mama’s Stuff. That one will never die out, for lack of a better phrase.

About that Cardamom Peach Shrub…

You will recall that back in December I invented a tasty cocktail called the Citrine and even updated it so that you could make it even if you don’t have a neighbor making plum vodka for you.

What I didn’t do was get around to providing a recipe for making the Cardamom Peach Shrub, so better late than never, as they say.

Cardamom Peach Shrub

1 lb peaches, chopped
¾ c cane sugar
1 c water
5 cardamom pods
1 cinnamon stick
1 c apple cider vinegar

  • Combine the peaches, water, sugar and spices in a small pot and bring to a simmer. Cook over low heat until the fruit is tender and soft, about 15 minutes.
  • Strain the mixture (keep the fruit for ice cream or oatmeal, it’s not needed anymore). Combine the fruit syrup with the apple cider vinegar, and chill.
  •  The syrup should last in the fridge at least a week.

You may use canned peaches, of course. I cannot remember whether I rinsed them before using them; the sweetness of the packing syrup might throw the whole thing off. I rather think I did rinse them.

Once again, an idea worth billions

Okay, people, this is the last time I’m going to share this idea with the universe. I’ve mentioned it to several of my acquaintances whom I thought capable of creating this world-changing service, but so far none of them have taken up the challenge of making themselves filthy rich (and by extension, via a miniscule royalty of 1% share of the profits, me).

Here’s the deal: For some time I’ve been using Cremo shave cream, Original formula. When I was about to run out, I put it on my shopping list. I ended up with a Sandalwood version — I love sandalwood, and this would make my twice-weekly shaving more pleasurable.

Or so I thought. The perfume was so strong that I could still smell it at the end of the day, which is not how I choose to express myself.

[Stick with me, you’ll see what I’m at in a moment.]

I returned to my regular Kroger. There was no Original, only Sandalwood.

I checked at Publix. They had only Citrus and some other perfumed cream.

I checked at Walgreens where, again, they had only scented creams.

Dear Reader, I ordered from Amazon. I know, I know, but what was I to do? Drive all around town and stop at every grocery store or emporium to see if they had what I wanted?

Nope, even though I really really want to shop locally. So here’s my idea: Start up a website/company that serves as an Amazon for local businesses. Make your inventory software interoperable with whatever major inventory software is being used by local businesses. They sign up to share their inventory.

I need Cremo Original formula shave cream. I go onto buyhometown.com [name TBD], input my zip code, do a search  — and poof! I can see who has it in stock and I head out the door to buy it.

More: Merchants get a report of what people have been looking for but couldn’t find, giving the merchants a chance to consider stocking the thing. BuyHometown sends emails to shops that haven’t signed on showing how more business is being shunted to those shops that have signed up; the latecomers sign up, rinse, repeat.

More: BuyHometown offers its own inventory system for merchant use.

How are you still reading this and not already putting together a prospectus??

Remember: 1% share of profits. Miniscule, I tell you.

P.S. Amazon, you are not allowed to use my idea. Unless you hand over a royalty of 5% share of the profits.

P.P.S. Once I am filthy rich, tax my filthy rich ass.

A serious question

Back in 2015, our friends and we set out for Arizona. It started when one of our members wanted to experience the “thin places” in Sedona, and then my Lovely First Wife turned into a large-scale trip involving Flagstaff, Grand Canyon, Antelope Canyon and a sweltering raft ride on the might Colorado, Sedona, and squeezing in the Montezuma Castle National Monument on the way back to Phoenix. (You can read all about it here. And of course my world-changing Lyles REMS Scale of Woo. In both instances, scroll to the bottom and work your way up.)

THE POINT BEING that while we were in Sedona, we indulged in all the woo we could find, including having our chakras balanced at the Center for the New Age, and somehow my email got attached to my Lovely First Wife’s signing up for a weekly newsletter.

So yes, ten years later I check my “personal horoscope” from the Center every week. In my defense, I am an Existential Mystic [see: Lyles REMS Scale, linked above], so it’s always good to check in on what the Universe is up to, even if it is mere wooish mumbo-jumbo.

Occasionally, of course, said horoscope just offers up tantalizing visions of what could be. Unfortunately, they almost always involve my getting off my ass and putting in the work. How is this even fair, even? Why isn’t the Universe just handing to me if that’s what the Universe has in store for me? Can I get an amen?

Anyway, this week’s was rather upbeat, given the hellscape we are currently entering:

Taurus (April 20-May 20) Weekly Horoscope: for Taurus & Taurus Rising

House Impacted: 10th house (career, public image)
Themes: Dream big, act boldly.

Taurus, it’s time to turn your professional aspirations into action. Venus and Neptune in your career zone are stirring up creative visions of what’s possible, but daydreaming alone won’t get the job done. Jupiter stationing direct in your 2nd house helps clarify your financial priorities, while Venus in Aries on February 6 inspires you to work behind the scenes on your next big move. This isn’t about instant results—it’s about setting the stage for long-term success.

IRL Tip: Write down one bold career goal and take a small step toward it. Whether it’s scheduling a meeting or updating your portfolio, progress starts now.

I mean to say, how mean is this? For one thing, WHAT ONE BOLD CAREER MOVE SHOULD I BE WRITING DOWN?

That’s a serious question. How the fupp should I know?? I mean, really, how should I know what that one bold career move should be?

I am taking suggestions in comments.

Cocktail update: The Citrine

As you may recall, I recently invented a cocktail called The Citrine. It was notable in that its ingredients were all handmade: the plum vodka from my neighbor, the simple syrup from me, and the shrub from a small company in Smyrna.

But Dale, I hear you ask, what happens when your neighbor runs out of plum vodka, and now that the small company is Smyrna has shut down, what will you do for the Peach & Cardamom shrub?

Follow along, class, and let’s fix this together.

First, the plum vodka. I am not a fan of 95% of flavored base liquors, but I am not unaware of the multitudinous abominations in that category, so I was sure I had never seen plum vodka. And I hadn’t. I was helped by a young person who was stocking the shelves, and even he had to have it looked up so he could find it. (It was on the top shelf of the vodka section, where neither he nor I had dreamed of looking because — trust me — it’s not top shelf material.)

This is Plush. It is too sweet to be a vodka, more like a liqueur, so that meant a complete rejiggering of the ingredients. In addition, rather than the original apple simple syrup, I decided to make an apple cider simple syrup for a little extra edge (recipe to follow).

The Citrine (non-handcrafted version)

  • 1 3/4 oz plum vodka (Plush)
  • 3/4 oz peach & cardamom shrub
  • 1/4 oz apple cider simple syrup

Shake with ice, strain into a Nick & Nora glass.

You will notice that we use triple the amount of shrub in this version; that’s how sweet the Plush is.

Apple Cider Simple Syrup

Boil 3 cups of apple cider with 1 cup of turbinado sugar until the sugar is dissolved and the cider has reduced to 2 cups. Cool. Add an ounce of vodka, calvados, or applejack to the mixture to help prevent mold.

We have one more variation to try: plum brandy, or slivovitz, which is marginally easier to find than plum vodka. And I may make an apple cider syrup with brown sugar to see if that adds depth to the drink or not. And I have found a peach/cardamom shrub recipe that I will be trying early next week. (I’m aiming to serve this at a holiday function where apparently I am the go-to bartender.)

Stay tuned.

New Cocktail: The Citrine

Okay, you might have a little trouble getting your hands on the ingredients for this one, since two of them are home-made and one is from a small food company in Smyrna, GA [keep reading]. But it’s worth it!

This is one of those cocktails (of more than a few!) that I came up with after sitting with the ingredients for a while before I thought, why the heck not, let’s mix these two and see what happens.

The Citrine

First we start with a plum vodka that was given to me several months ago by our incredible neighbor Lisa Lee. She gifts me with all kinds of home-made substances, like elderflower liqueur and this plum vodka, made from either things she grows in the backyard (over the fence from my labyrinth) or gets at the market.

That’s the bottle on the right. On the left is a Peach & Cardamom Shrub, which means it’s vinegar (in this case, apple cider vinegar) with infusions. It’s from a company called MarRay Foods and was given to me by a burner friend at Alchemy back in October. (My camp, 3 Old Men, is known for its craft cocktail bar.)

And in the rear is the apple simple syrup, the recipe for which is dead simple.

  • 1 3/4 oz plum vodka
  • 1/4 oz Peach & Cardamom Shrub
  • 1/3 oz apple simple syrup

Pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker. Shake with ice, then strain into a cocktail or Nick & Nora glass.

The Citrine is fruity, not too sweet, and then finishes with that lovely acidity that vinegar brings.

Apple Simple Syrup

  • 1 cup apple juice
  • 1 cup turbinado sugar

Mix the apple juice and sugar in a small pot. Bring to a boil, then stir until the sugar has dissolved. Cool, and store in the refrigerator. If you can’t find turbinado sugar — it shouldn’t be a problem — try brown sugar.

Here: a recipe for the shrub, since MarRay Foods (I just discovered) is in the process of shutting down so that its proprietor can go back for their Masters in Library Science! Huzzah!

New Cocktail: [unnamed bourbon cocktail]

I created this back before Alchemy in October, but I still haven’t come up with a name yet.

[unnamed bourbon cocktail]

  • 1 1/2 oz bourbon
  • 1/2 oz Rivulet pecan liqueur
  • 1/2 oz salty caramel flavored whisky
  • 2–3 dashes smoke bitters

Stir with ice, strain into highball glass with ice.

You might add a little sweetener to it, but I don’t think it needs it. It is actually pretty complex for such a bougie combination.

Suggest names in the comments.

The Savoy Variations: Warday’s Cocktail

I’m bored, so I’m taking random cocktail recipes from The Savoy Cocktail Book (1930), giving them a try, and modifying/improving them if I think it’s necessary, and reporting my findings here.

Warday’s Cocktail

[p. 169]

This one was pleasant enough, but kind of lackluster. I almost splurged and used some of my very precious green chartreuse — and I am assuming they meant green, not yellow — but chickened out and used Boomsma Kloosterbitter instead. (I may make it again with one of the other not-quite-chartreuses in my cabinet to see how they work. And I may break out the actual Chartreuse.) At any rate, after a sip or two I added another teaspoon of the Kloosterbitter and that helped a lot.

You will also notice that I used Old Tom gin. I was surprised to discover that I had no actual dry gin in the cabinet. Don’t know how that happened, so I may take steps to remedy that before making this again. Also, I could play around with the sweet vermouth to see if one of the others might bump it up a bit.

  • 3/4 oz sweet vermouth
  • 3/4 oz dry gin
  • 3/4 oz Calvados/apple brandy
  • 2 tsp green chartreuse

I’m counting this one as my improvement, especially if I make more with alternate ingredients.

SAVOY VARIATIONS SCORECARD:

  • Savoy: 7
  • Dale: 3
  • Sink: 4