USA! USA! USA!

Getting ready for the puck drop between Team USA and Canada, in what we hope will be a preview of the gold medal game.

Update, 0745 hrs:  Well, let's hope this isn't a preview of the gold medal game... Canada 3, USA 2.  The American ladies played a pretty good game but couldn't beat either the Canadians or the officials in one of the worst-officiated games I've ever seen.  Canada got away with at least three (mebbe four) too-many-men-on-the-ice violations and got one bad goal which clearly went into the US net after the whistle had blown.  But, oh well... that's hockey.  On to the elimination round.

You GO, Girls!

Nice Hat!

We received a new ball cap in the mail yesterday... like this:

That's obviously a Red Wings chapeau and it's the 19th addition to my collection o' ball caps, one of which you'll rarely see me without.  We do love our ball caps and our collection... modest as it may be... runs from the military (nine caps, five Navy and four Air Force, which you might think a bit strange for an Air Force guy until you learn SN2 keeps me better supplied with military paraphernalia than does SN1), to the corporate (two caps from former bid'nizes I was associated with), the political (one Bush-Cheney cap), and seven miscellaneous hats, ranging from a preferred cigar brand to various and sundry other items, like the cap from the Brownsville Barnstormers squadron of the Confederate Commemorative Air Force.  Nearly all of these caps are in permanent rotation, save two that are unwearable due to (a) a broken sizing band and (b) severe dirt and mung accumulated over the years.  My collection would be larger if I had been in the habit o' saving USAF organizational ball caps from Former Happy Days but alas, I didn't.  I simply wore those hats out and tossed 'em.  More's the pity.

We're Not Very Pleasant

This is quite interesting...

Click to embiggen

The map is interactive and allows you to find cities with the most "pleasant" weather, defined as shown.  Imagine my surprise when I found Detroit to be more pleasant than P-Ville (66 days vs. 36), and even MORE surprised when I looked at the Rochester, NY area (54 days).  Sorry... I do NOT agree.  That's mainly coz I NEVER shovel snow, although there have been one or two times in the last 11 years when I prolly should have. 

Go here to see how pleasant YOUR town is.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

One of the more interesting things I heard during this morning's hockey game was some snappy patter from Doc Emrick who was talking about his interview with Hilary Knight (two games,  two goals, two assists -- four points), above.  Doc said they were talking about Team USA's fitness and conditioning program and the fact that Ms. Knight is seriously into weight training.  Doc said he thought Ms. Knight was in superb physical shape and according to him Ms. Knight said "Yeah, I'm like a little brick house."  "Is that a quote?" sez Doc.  "I said it, didn't I?" she replied.

Well, alrighty then!  Here's to YOU, Hilary!



You GO, Girl.

Early to Bed, Early to Rise...

That would be me last evening and this morning... in bed at 2200 hrs with the alarm set for 0300 hrs so I could watch the USA women systematically dismantle the Swiss team, which they most certainly did.  It was never close and the US won by a touchdown (no PAT) and a field goal, setting an Olympic record of three goals in 55 seconds in the process.  And they won in a shutout, just for drill.  From USA Today:

USA forward Amanda Kessel attempts a shot against Switzerland goalkeeper Florence Schelling.(Photo: Winslow Townson, USA TODAY Sports)

SOCHI, Russia – Amanda Kessel often is referred to as Phil Kessel's sister. But the way the women's hockey tournament is unfolding, Phil might soon be called "Amanda Kessel's brother."

Amanda looked dominant Monday, generating two goals and two assists to help the U.S. women's hockey team (2-0) to a 9-0 win against Switzerland in front of a crowd of 3,812.

[...]

Monique Lamoureaux also scored a pair of goals for the USA, while Brianna Decker, Alex Carpenter and Hilary Knight netted one each.

The US women are fast, fast, fast and are SUCH a joy to watch.  So we have a couple o' hours to take care of the morning's physical rituals, finish the coffee, and make the blog rounds.  And then we'll watch the Canadian women take on the Finns.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Two from the "Who'd a thunk it?" file...

Well, I don't much like walkin'
But I love my Eldorado ride
I ain't never cared a thing about walkin'
But I love my Eldorado ride
Yeah, we run it around the cornfield
With my little baby by my side

Play the blues
Played it mad
Played it sad
Blues is pain
The way men cry
Like tired rain

Tom Petty and Stephen Stills, singin' the blues?  Like I said: who'd a thunk it?  I know both o' these guys have the guitar chops to pull it off but I'd never heard either one actually DO it until this afternoon.  

Full disclosure:  I heard both tunes... back to back, on the meTunes Radio Peter Green station... this afternoon.  While sittin' out on the verandah in the sun, for the first time in literally AGES.

Life's good.

Plane Pr0n of a Different Sort

General Mark A. Welsh III, the USAF Chief of Staff, released CSAF's annual reading list last week, which also includes film and art works.  Here's one such work, as captioned on the Reading List web site:

Hell’s Wench, a B-24 badly damaged by anti-aircraft artillery fire, led the 93d Bombardment Group (Heavy) in its daring low-level attack on the oil refineries at Ploesti, Romania, which supplied two-thirds of Germany’s petroleum production at that stage of World War II. Lt. Col. Addison E. Baker, an Ohio National Guardsman who commanded the 93rd, refused to break up the lead formation by landing, and led his group to the target upon which he dropped his bombs with devastating effect.

The Ploesti raid of 1 August, 1943 is one of the most storied events in USAF history.  Further to the painting above, this:

Lt. Col. Baker and his co-pilot Maj. John L. Jerstad, who had already flown a full tour of duty while stationed in England, would now bear witness to the extensive air defense array prepared for them by Gen. Gerstenberg. Continuing through the withering maelstrom, the damage to Hell's Wench forced Baker and Jerstad to lose their bomb load in order to maintain lead of the formation over their target at the Columbia Aquila refinery. Despite heavy losses by the 93rd, Baker and Jerstad maintained course and, once clear, began to climb away. Realizing the aircraft was a loss, both men maintained the climb in order to permit the crew to abandon the aircraft. Although none survived, both Baker and Jerstad would be posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for maintaining their successful approach to Columbia Aquila and their efforts to save the crew of Hell's Wench.

You can read more about the Ploesti raids here.

Broadening Our Horizons LXXVI

Seek and ye shall find...

And we found it on the shelf at the Class VI yesterday.  We waited until today to sample the brew, seein' as how the beer was warm when we brought it home yesterday afternoon. "And..." you ask?

Worthy.  Very worthy.  The beer has a citrusy taste... lemony... with a slight sourness that's neither overbearing nor objectionable and it goes down VERY easily.  This beer will be in regular rotation here at El Casa Inmóvil De Pennington, especially once the weather gets warm, assuming, of course, the beer continues in stock out at Cannon (or the local beer emporium).  It's been a couple o' years since I had a Mothership but I do believe Snapshot is the equal, at least, o' that once-favorite beer o' mine.  The geeks at BA like Snapshot too, giving the beer an average 80/100 rating.  Go read if you want serious beer-snob (and I use that term with ALL due respect, for I are one) reviews.

Saturday: Sochi

This made me giggle guffaw, in a very manly way:



Yanno... the "Canadian Institute of Diversity and Inclusion" just might be REAL.  I think it is, actually.

In other news... featuring Sochi... we stayed up into the wee smalls to watch the women o' Team USA get their first win over Finland, 3-1.  The Lamoureux Twins are back again for the 2014 Olympics and it's glad, we are.  If you've been with me a while you know just how smitten I was by those girls four years ago.

It's an old pic but they're still just as lovely.  And talented.

What's NOT to like, eh?

Looking a Gift Horse In the Mouth

We received a re-supply o' cigars in the mail late yesterday afternoon.  I had ordered a box o' one o' my favorite sticks... the Partagas Spanish Rosado, in the Familia (6x54) size... so we proceeded to open the box and were disappointed to find four plastic baggies containing 26 loose cigars, only ten of which were Spanish Rosados with the remaining 16 being Padron Serie 1926 sticks.  The loose cigar thing isn't unusual but the substitution thing WAS.  I was not pleased.

Fast forward a couple o' hours and we lit off one o' those Padrons to enjoy during the hockey game, along with usual, customary and quite reasonable three fingers o' Glenlivet, repeated twice.  Or thrice... who's counting?  I was impressed.  The Padron, at nearly seven inches, lasted for the duration of the entire game and was also quite tasty.  Full-flavored but not harsh, easy drawing, and very robust.  "Not bad," thinks I, "I think I like these things."  And well I SHOULD.

Our curiosity got the best of us after the game (which the Wings won) so I hied myself off on to the inter-tubes and looked up the Padron Serie 1926.  Imagine my surprise:

Gad!  That cigar I so cavalierly smoked last evening costs 20 Yankee Dollars a pop!  I don't ever buy cigars in that price range except for the oh-so-rare occasional one-off and that was mostly in the way-back when I had access to Cuban cigars.  Nope... we smoke cigars in the five-to-eight dollar range (the Spanish Rosados are a hair over six bucks a stick, just as an illustration), buying an occasional ten dollar stick when I'm feeling sporty.

So now I'm gonna have to re-order, mainly coz I refuse to burn cigars that cost 20 Yankee Dollars all by myself during Happy Hour.  Nope, I'm gonna rat-hole the Padrons and only trot 'em out on special occasions.  Cigars like these need to be shared among very good friends and family.

In other (related) news... We made a run out to Cannon Airplane Patch to resupply our meds, the whiskey stock, and also bought food, while we were at it.  In so doing we saw this at the Class VI:

A bad mePhone pic, but you can get my drift.

I'm thinking our troops MIGHT be a bit overpaid if they can afford to buy JW Blue at 200 Yankee Dollars and change.  Just who in the hell... aside from generals/flag officers, and there ain't no generals on Cannon... can afford to buy that?  OTOH, mebbe it's not the active duty guys... mebbe it's retirees who smoke 20-dollar cigars*.

* Full disclosure:  I bought a bottle o' that 12 year old Macallan you see.  Cheaper, but only by comparison.

One VERY Well-Traveled Pair o' Levi's

Well-traveled, indeed.  I may have been to about half the places those Levi's walked around in (the most notable omissions for me: Africa and South America) and I did my traveling in 501s, as well.  But the video was meant to illustrate how Levi's fade... about which, this:

While much of the raw denim craze might seem academic, the romanticized ideal of jeans becoming an individualized canvas does at least hold up in practice. This short video by Japanese video director Takayuki Akachi perfectly illustrates the raw denim dream.

For the uninitiated, the fading of jeans over time can look like a fairly unremarkable process. But the various patterns that form around different parts of the garment are distinct, with some individuals prizing certain types of fades over others.

That's an excerpt from a piece called "I didn't wash my jeans for 7 months—and it's the Internet's fault" from The Daily Dot (via Digg).  The article might just as well be titled "More than you EVER wanted to know about hipster jeans" because it goes into more esoterica and ephemera than I ever knew was possible about my 501s.  Well, check that... 501s are waaaay too mainstream.  What you REALLY need are jeans made from 22-ounce "dry" denim woven on antique American looms currently living in Japan.  And don't wash 'em for a while, either.

The piece was an interesting read... seriously.  That said, I'll keep my 501s, thank ya.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack: Smoke

So, there we were, casually sipping on that Left Hand Nitro and taking the occasional puff on our cigar, head wreathed in smoke, some of which got in our eyes.  And that stung, making me pause to wipe the water from my left eye.  Which, of course, immediately brought this ol' chestnut to mind:

They, said some day you'll find
All who love are blind
When you heart's on fire
You must realize
Smoke gets in your eyes

So I chaffed them, and I gaily laughed
To think they would doubt our love
And yet today, my love has gone away
I am without my love

Now laughing friends deride
Tears I cannot hide
So I smile and say
When a lovely flame dies
Smoke gets in your eyes

There's some confusion about when The Platters released this tune; TheWiki sez 1958, the notes on the Tube o' You say 1959.  All that doesn't matter much to me, because it was in 1959 that I wore out my copy o' "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes."  I was coming down off of my first serious encounter with the fairer sex, at the tender age o' 14.  Her name was Pam... the same age as me... and she was literally the girl next door.  I fell for this girl-child, hard.  So hard, in fact, that her parents forbade Pam to see me after it became plain we were in way deep.  And so I spent the remainder of that summer locked in my room, playing "Smoke" over and over and over and crying my little heart out.  Teen-age angst?  Oh yes, Gentle Reader, we had a massive case!

Well, they don't make 'em like that any longer... both the tune and the love affair.  My first encounter with love broke my heart, an event that was to re-occur time and time again over the years.  We never went into love affairs half-assed, oh no.  We jumped in with both feet, most often blindly, and ALWAYS to disappointment.  Some disappointments took longer than others, but in the end?  Well, I suppose that's just the way it goes.

We Can Only Hope...

... we'll be seein' this in the near future at a beer emporium near us:

This might be the replacement for the lost and greatly lamented Mothership Wit, which used to grace our fridge with great regularity, especially once the weather got warm.  Did I say lamented?  Why, yes... I DID.  From February 15th of this past year:

I have an ulterior motive for this tune, in that (a) we're drinkin' a new-to-us Wit Bier for today's Happy Hour (the ubiqutous Hoegaarden) and (b) bemoaning the loss of our once-upon-a-time favorite Wit Bier, Mothership Wit from New Belgium.  I noticed quite some time ago that Mothership had disappeared from the shelves in my area but I didn't want to acknowledge what I knew in my heart to be true: Mothership had been discontinued.  Today I went searching for confirmation and found it, like this:

Note the absence of Mothership.  Well, dang.  Just DANG!  Mebbe New Belgium ran out o' organic wheat to use in this beer, or mebbe sales dipped, or mebbe they just didn't have room in their brewery to produce this particular beer, given all the various and sundry beers in production.

None the less, I am sad.  I went and searched for Mothership on the blog and found 13 different posts where I mention Mothership by name.  I can always hope NB will resurrect the beer, coz there is that "Revival" category.

But in any event:  the queen of Wit Biers is dead.  Long live the Queen!

So, hey!  This might could be good news.  That said, we'll most certainly pass on the grapefruit and bitters.  The very thought of doin' that makes the hair on the back o' my neck stand up.

But right now I think we'll pour us a Left Hand Nitro stout and put fire to the end of a cee-gar.  The time is upon us.

DAMN You, Polar Vortex!

It's back.  And it's making my birdies cold.

Nothing like flamingos in the snow, eh?  You'll note they've adopted their winter-white plumage in order to avoid the fierce predators Reapers in the area.  Oh, yeah... there's a light dusting o' snow, too.  I have no ideer how much we actually GOT coz what you see is what was left at noon-thirty when I opened the blinds.

And it's cold... did I mention that?  And you might say "Well, how cold IS it, Buck?"  Record-breaking cold:

We need to keep things in perspective, though.  Record-breaking low temps here on THPoNM is just another day elsewhere.  So we have our perspective but that doesn't mean we have to LIKE it.

In other news... we're sleeping very well of late, too well, actually.  We poured our first cup at 1235 hrs today and we feel like a right slacker, we do.  But... as long as we're on about perspective... we must consider the fact we didn't go to bed until shortly before 0400 hrs this morning.  So, we had just over eight hours of beauty rest, which did not a thing for our actual beauty.

Cigar Art... In Which We've Completely Lost Track of How Many of These We've Done

I think the last time we posted examples of cigar art was sometime back in early 2013.  That would be cigar art where cigar bands are concerned; I know we've posted pics of the nifty boxes these things come in as recently as last month.  Or mebbe December.  None the less, here are the bands from some of the sticks we've been smokin' of late:

These bands are larger than life... no need to click to embiggen

There's a reason why we've not done one of these posts in a while and that reason is we've been smokin' the Usual Suspects for the last few months... those sticks that please us most... as opposed to broadening our horizons.  We fixed that a couple o' weeks ago when we ordered one o' these:

There wasn't a clinker in the mix; I enjoyed all those sticks.  That said, the only new-to-me cigar in this selection that's likely to make it into the rotation is the Nica Rustica.  I really liked that cigar, which, as noted, doesn't take anything away from the other cigars.

Miscellanea

Via Digg, who say "Paging all scientists: please explain."  I just think it's a waste o' good beer.  They coulda used Coors Light or some other flavored water. Wait.  Mebbe it's only BEER that does that.

And then there's this:

Sorry.  Couldn't resist.

"Jane, you ignorant slut!"*  There's this, in the point-counterpoint category, from the Usual USAF Source:

Gates Versus the Air Force

Former Defense Secretary Robert Gates' book, "Duty: Memoirs of a Secretary at War," paints a highly unflattering picture of the Air Force; a service he describes as "one of my biggest headaches" during his five-year tenure as head of the Pentagon. USAF, in Gates' view, was an unwilling partner in the wars in Southwest Asia, "superbly" but begrudgingly performing airlift, aeromedical evacuation, and close air support. He upbraids the service for a preoccupation with big wars and a practically insubordinate performance on supplying intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance. But Gates' book reveals he brought a distinctly anti-Air Force bias with him to the job; despite his being a veteran of the service. His attitudes caused real problems for USAF, as Gates proceeded to slash its most important programs and decapitate its leadership. (Read the full report)

The full report is a bit of an eye-opener, wherein the former Secretary of the Air Force Michael Wynne and Chief of Staff Gen. Michael Moseley... both of whom Gates fired during his tenure as SecDef... give their opinions on claims and observations Mr. Gates made in his recently published memoir.  It's some serious "he said, she said" stuff, if you like high-level gossip. 

* The young'uns might not recognize that so there's this, by way o' explanation.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Time was... in the wayback... when we were a big-ass Southern Rock kinda guy.  And that would include these guys:

Well, I'm a whiskey rock-a-roller
That's what I am
Women, whiskey and miles of travellin'
Is all I understand

I call BS on that.  I understand whiskey.  I understand rock 'n' roll.  I even understand "miles of travellin'," what with having done my fair share of that.  And I love all those things, including, most definitely, wimmen.  But understanding wimmen?  That's a bridge too far, coz there ain't a man alive what understands wimmen.  Not one.

We heard this tune on Pandora's Allman Bros station today.  Every once in a while we gotta get our fix, yanno?

In Which We Deliver a Minor Amount o' Snark

This, from one o' our regular reads:

What have you done?  Nothing, except fuck up the entire world as we knew it.  That's all.

Me and Every Other Dylan Fan, I Suppose

Yesterday I went looking for Sooper Bowl ads to (a) see what I missed and (b) see if there was anything clever or inspiring or otherwise worthwhile.  My answer?  Not a whole helluva lot when it comes to good, an awful lot when it comes to eye-rolls, and then... this:

Oh, noes!  Bobby... not YOU!  I was laboring under the impression Dylan had never done an ad before, but I was wrong.  A look-see on these inter-tubes today revealed David Malitz at the WaPo had much the same thoughts as I did, only he had them a day earlier, like yesterday ("An obsessive Bob Dylan fan deludes himself into justifying that Chrysler ad, in 5 steps").  And he had done his homework, concerning Bobby's commercial endeavors.  I quote:

1. He actually sold out a while ago

Back in 2004 Dylan teamed up with Victoria’s Secret, because nothing sells sexy lingerie like a 60-something dude with a pencil mustache. In terms of selling out, this was an inspired and hilarious choice, but it was still selling out.

Ah, well.  So I was wrong about Bobby's previous activities in this space.  Still and even, I like the ad.  It's well done and appeals to my patriotism jingoistic heart.  But I have issues with the closing lines:

So, let Germany brew your beer...
Let Switzerland make your watch...
Let China assemble your phone...
WE will build your car.

True enough, when it comes to the building bits... the cars are designed and assembled here in America.  By a wholly-owned subsidiary of Fiat S.p.A.

Things have changed, indeed.

Everyone Talks About the Weather...

... and I'm living proof o' that.  We're indoors today and will prolly remain indoors for the best part o' this week if the weather prognosticators are anywhere close to accurate.  It looks pretty bad:

"Bad" bein' relative, of course.  While our weather here on The High Plains o' New Mexico ain't exactly beach weather it's not near as bad as some places we can think of.  I thank The Deity At Hand every day that I'm no longer living in that part o' the world.