14. November 2001
Hi, there, kids -
I don't have much for you but an evil kitten.
Faster, Lydia, kill, kill!
Yes, Lydia is seven feet off the ground on top of a door, yes, I badly needed a haircut a few days ago (all fixed thanks to an $11 investment in an odd but effective student haircut at the Aveda Institute) and yes, my glasses are on crooked. She's insane. I was sleepy. Sue us.
Just so you don't think I never leave the house (not that I really do except once in a while whether I need it or not), here's a sunset Sam shot out the windshield of the Chevy while I was driving us back home from South Bend, Indiana:
We went for early Thanksgiving and tasty scotch. The latter errand necessitated the ludicrous drive. It's only about as long as SF-LA without traffic (don't even ask what happens when you hit Chicago during rush hour) but somehow Wisconsin is even more boring than the edge of the Central Valley despite promises of "CHEESE ANTIQUES".
Why go to all that trouble? It's because Springbank is the Sub Pop of the whisky business. Springbank was low on 12-year barrels in 1996, so they vatted the twelve-year with much older scotch to get the alcohol content down. Some say the average age is actually sixteen years, some twenty-two. It's really good and list price was only $50. You can't even get a 'real' twelve-year for that anymore at the Wine & Liquor Depot.
Lexy got obsessive and tracked it down in places like Kentucky and South Bend.
You may have noticed (or may not, either way) by peering at the upper left of that photo that I finally listened to liquor obsessives of another stripe and tracked down a couple of Spanish absinthes, apparently much more like the 19th-century thing than the Czech stuff I've been keeping unopened as decoration on my shelf. These are unopened, too, of course. You know how they get through customs? The Spaniards write on the customs form, "Anisado Collector's Item Not for resale Not for personal consumption."
It is to chuckle quietly. I still need a slotted spoon, though.
Meanwhile, Sam's stuffed animals need know no more; they are massed for attack:
What can I do but wave my hands impotently?
To prove that even though I still haven't connected the stereo, I'm not completely lame, here's the new Beta Band record for you. Yes, I, too, can borrow a CD and turn it into digitized musical fun! Hot Shots II and I don't think I'll miss the CD-only bonus track when I finally plug my new 12AZ7A's into the preamp where they belong and buy the vinyl.
My back hurts now so maybe I'll go lie down and moan quietly. Or better yet.. maybe a little sip of scotch. For medicinal purposes alone, you understand.