Broadening Our Horizons XXXVIII

This could be BOH XXXVII, Part Two... seein' as how we went back to the well today for yet another seasonal installment from that lil ol' brewery in Bawston.  Well, let's make it that Big-Ass brewery in Bawston, just for accuracy's sake.

Today we're indulging in my favorite selection from the 12-pack, the Black and Brew:

This is some seriously tasty beer despite the terminally-cute name, which is an all too obvious reference to this beer's main taste components: coffee and malt.  How could one NOT like this combination?  I mean... it's caffeine and alcohol together, two of the four major food groups (the other two bein' nicotine and sugar).  The only thang that's missing is sex.

And now we shall adjourn to the verandah for our second outdoor Happy Hour in as many days.  It's warm enough today that we don't need our flea jacket... just a sweater, a cigar, and that beer I just poured.  Life is good.

RIP, Christopher Hitchens

I just now learned one of my heroes passed yesterday... Christopher Hitchens, dead at 62.  From the link:

But if one needed any proof of Hitchens’ impact and far-reaching respect, the Atlantic’s Nicholas Jackson has it: The New York Times changed its front page well into the night to put Hitchens’ obituary on it.

“That is, the most influential newspaper in the world has put its work and printing process on hold to make room on the front page for the obituary of a single man. If that isn't a testament to his work, I don't know what is.”

I'll remember Mr. Hitchens for the innumerable times I was thankful to the man for his immaculate prose that both entertained and enlightened.  I have way too many favorite pieces of his to name just one, but this will do as an example.  From "Hitch 22," his recent memoir:

“Care to meet the new Leader?” Who could refuse? 

Within moments, Margaret Thatcher and I were face to face. Within moments, too, I had turned away and was showing her my buttocks. I suppose that I must give some sort of explanation for this. Almost as soon as we shook hands on immediate introduction, I felt that she knew my name and had perhaps connected it to the socialist weekly that had recently called her rather sexy. While she struggled adorably with this moment of pretty confusion, I felt obliged to seek controversy and picked a fight with her on a detail of Rhodesia/Zimbabwe policy. 

She took me up on it. I was (as it chances) right on the small point of fact, and she was wrong. But she maintained her wrongness with such adamantine strength that I eventually conceded the point and even bowed slightly to emphasize my acknowledgment.

“No,” she said. “Bow lower!” Smiling agreeably, I bent forward a bit farther. “No, no,” she trilled. “Much lower!” By this time, a little group of interested bystanders was gathering. I again bent forward, this time much more self-consciously. Stepping around behind me, she unmasked her batteries and smote me on the rear with the parliamentary order-paper that she had been rolling into a cylinder behind her back. I regained the vertical with some awkwardness.  As she walked away, she looked back over her shoulder and gave an almost imperceptibly slight roll of the hip while mouthing the words: “Naughty boy!” 

I had and have eyewitnesses to this. At the time, though, I hardly believed it myself. It is only from a later perspective, looking back on the manner in which she slaughtered and cowed all the former male leadership of her party and replaced them with pliant tools, that I appreciate the premonitory glimpse—of what someone in another context once called “the smack of firm government”—that I had been afforded. 

Even at the time, as I left that party, I knew I had met someone rather impressive. And the worst of “Thatcherism,” as I was beginning by degrees to discover, was the rodent slowly stirring in my viscera: the uneasy but unbanishable feeling that on some essential matters she might be right.

RIP, Hitch.  Thank you. 

Didja Watch It?

I have no stomach for the "debates," or the soundbite parade, or the "lookin' for the gotcha moment," or whatever you want to call what these gotdamned sideshows have evolved into this year.  It's all I can do to read reasonable commentary about the event... actually watching the thangs would be a bridge waaay too far, as even the day-after soundbites irritate the piss outta me. 

No mention of the debates would be complete without my UCR rant against Fox: NO Red Eye last night, just a re-run of the sideshow.  I hate-hate-HATE them for that.

I MIGHT Have Learned Sumthin' Today

My Inner Eight-Year-Old was insistent with his nagging today and we blew off configuring the new box in favor of a rare outdoor Happy Hour.  Rare... for this time o' year... I should add.  So I shot the video below... since v-logging is all the rage these days, or so I've read in other places.  And who am I to disregard the trendy and the topical?

We had some issues with this vid.  First of all, there was no sound when I viewed the vid locally.  At first I thought that was coz I also had Pandora goin' on my phone and the phone mutes Pandora when you switch to the video camera.  So I naturally thought ALL audio was muted... but NO!  The Tube o' You picked up the audio just fine.  And then there was the video orientation... I shot in portrait mode but the vid came out in landscape, which means I look like I'm layin' on my side.  But the Tube o' You came to the rescue yet again, with their editing tools that let you flip the vid 90 degrees.  This ain't technology... it's MAJIK.

So the net-net is I get a letter-box video.  NEXT time we shall shoot phone vids in landscape and won't have these issues.  I don't wanna hear stuff about fanboi phones and how they get this stuff right without intervention or external processing.  Coz it's a case of "Fanboi phones?  FANBOI PHONES?  We don't NEED no steenkin' fanboi phones!"

Oh, Betty!

Another one from the in-box:

The cougar is my favorite big cat, but I'm not so sure Betty is my favorite cougar.  The vid is here, if'n you're curious.

Wonders Never Cease

What HP said they'd do, on 12/06/2011:

What they actually did (about 15 minutes ago):

Good on 'em, eh?  I think I know how I'm gonna spend the rest o' my day.  Mebbe.  I say "mebbe" coz I'm dreading the restore process, having acquired one of those tee shirts about a year ago.  This chore may or may not be performed immediately... and there's also the fact that I just now poured my second cup.  It ain't smart to do stuff like this when one isn't fully caffeinated.

And He Uses It, Too

From the Usual Source.

Mah Girl, Doin' What She Does Best

"I will let them eat cake."  You GO, Sunny.  Marie's got nuthin' on you!

"It Was a Good Hit, It Was a Clean Hit"

All us homers know suspect the refs have it in for our team(s)... but Flyers fans might could be right about that.

In This Morning's In-Box

I immediately deleted the message when I saw the subject line and the sender.  But I had second thoughts, so I went to the trash and read the note.  Alas, it's NOT an ad for tracers... which are the sort o' "sparkles" a select few NOT on my Christmas list deserve.

In other in-box news... last night HP notified me the new box has shipped, five days earlier than estimated.  Happy-happy joy-joy!

Linkage & A Minor Bitch, Piss, and Moan (Or Two)

First... Blog-Bud Jim, aka Suldog, puts the Christmas ditty he penned to music.  And the resulting one-man-band performance is awesome.  We (and not the Royal We, I mean YOU, too) need to convince him to YouTube the song.  So comment appropriately.

Second:  Lex takes us flying in the Kfir, here and here.  Is there a BETTER post-military retirement gig than flying fighters as a civilian?  I think not.

―:☺:―

Department o' Miscellaneous Bitches & Complaints:   (1)  Remember a couple o' few days ago when I said we had a warm-up on the way?  Well, it's yet to arrive.  Yeah, it IS warmer, which is to say almost 50 degrees, but it's also windy, rainy, and blustery, accompanied by Mrs. Hippy levels of humidity.  There won't be an outdoor Happy Hour today, but we remain optimistic.  Mebbe tomorrow.

Well, mebbe not.  Dang.

(2)  I've been living in El Casa Inmóvil de Pennington for two and a half months now and I've yet to turn the water on in the guest bathroom's tub.  Let me clear: said tub has NEVER been wet.  Not once.  So, that said, why is the danged thing dirty?  I've been looking in that tub for a couple o' days now in the hopes it will somehow clean itself, or that perhaps the Cleaning Fairy will show up and do the obnoxious deed for me.  I haven't had ANY success in either case, so it looks like we'll have to add another chore to the ever-growing list.  A maid... A Man Needs A Maid. 

Racists!

So there I was... watching Red Eye this evening (or this morning, if'n ya get technical about it) and that gotdamned Pajamagram ad for Hoodie-Footies came on at every freakin' commercial break.  EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.  I danged near wore out my mute button but then it struck me...  There's no diversity in this ad!  None at all!  Look:

All 12 of those women are blue-eyed blondes... all of 'em.  Doesn't this break some sorta law?  I mean ain't this America?  What's wrong with the Pajamagram people?  Didn't they get the memo?  I'm gonna call the EEOC or someone like 'em and see if I can't get the ads pulled.  Or mebbe I'll just sue... coz I'm offended.  Racists!

OTOH, mebbe I'll buy one of those damned thangs for every woman in my fam'bly, select friends, and mebbe a few strangers, too.  One or the other.

The 27th Special Operations Wing Wishes You Happy Holidays

And a Merry Christmas, too... although the HH language outnumbers "Merry Christmas" by about five to one.  Big sigh...

So, we're just in from running our errands and while we were out we stopped at the Cannon Airplane Patch airpark just inside the main gate to take a few cheesy cellphone pics of the various units' Christmas greetings, and there were a lot of 'em.  And here we go...

The beginning of the unit displays

"Non-standard" refers to the fact this unit flies a specially modified bid'niz aircraft.

 Cannon has a UAV unit, too.  These guys obviously fly Reapers.

SN1's old unit... the Fireballs.  The 522nd flew F-16s when Buck was with 'em.

 Hey!  You're not THE Green Hornets!  Stop that!

Saving the best for last... Have a KILLER holiday!

Click to embiggen, of course.  Right-click on the images once you get into Blogger's new-fangled (and ugly) pic viewer and choose "view image" if ya wanna see the full size pic.

Random Notes

Blog-Bud Andy has taken up v-logging with his new fanboi phone that does photos, videos, finds you dates, changes the baby, and fixes dinner, among other thangs.  He's done two of those thangs now and he's pretty good at it.  I tried that back when the MinoHD was new, once.  I sucked.

Andy also mentioned in his v-log that he'd been off for three whole days and was kinda-sorta beside himself.  I've been off for 3,327 days now (not counting today) and am just as happy as the proverbial pig in... umm... stuff.   I'm living proof (well, "living" is loosely defined) that being easily amused is one o' life's most under-rated blessings.  (And how did I get that exact day count, you might ask?  By going to this handy lil web site.  I LOVES me some technology!)

―:☺:―

Remember a couple o' few days ago when I posted about the Beloved Wings blowing out those Feral Dogs at The Joe?  Well, they did the same thang last evening to the hot Winnipeg Jets, who came into The Joe last night on a roll, having won sumthin' like seven of their last ten.  Alas (for Winnipeg's fans), those same Jets proceeded to flame out, losing to the Wings by a score of 7-1.  The Jets DID manage to score the first goal (34 seconds into the first period) but it was all downhill for them from there.  Good stuff, Maynard.

―:☺:―

Shocked!  That would be me when I slide off the bar stool and forget to ground myself before doin' so.  The seats of my spiffy bar stools are covered in some sorta suede-like fabric that is a potential solution to America's energy crisis, provided one could somehow harness the megawatts of static electricity generated by the simple act of getting up.  I swear I've seen blue arcs emanate from my fingertips once or twice.  This phenomenon is exacerbated by the current negative ten percent relative humidity inside El Casa Inmóvil de Pennington.  The low or nonexistent indoor humidity is yet another reason to hate winter.  Which I DO.

And it's still cold outside, although there's a warm-up coming by mid-week if the good folks at the NWS in ABQ are correct.  

We might even be able to pull off an outdoor Happy Hour!  Let us pray... 

―:☺:―

I believe I mentioned I was considering buying a new peesee rather than getting the current desktop repaired.  Well last Tuesday I did just that.  I did my patriotic duty to stimulate the economy... and I also gave Hewlett-Packard (a fine, outstanding AMERICAN computer company who sells stuff assembled in China or Taiwan, outta parts made only-gawd-knows-where) my bid'niz, in the hopes they'll be able to keep my pittance of a retirement check coming along each and every month.  Well, that and the fact that HP gives me an employee discount on their stuff, and every lil bit helps, yanno?  OTOH, I'm not too pleased with how long it's gonna take the box to get here.  I ordered the thang on 12/06 and HP tells me the machine will ship on or about 12/19, with a five to seven day delivery date to follow.  Doesn't that seem excessive?  But then again... Taiwan is a long ways away from New Mexico.

Right Now

I'm watching the Army-Navy Groundpounders-Squids game, which is to say the also-rans playin' for second place, seein' as how the Air Force Academy has already won the CinC's Trophy.  That said (and you know I just HAD to say it),  it's a pretty entertaining game, all things considered.  Army tied it up with seconds left in the first half, despite the two Army turnovers that gave Navy their touchdowns.  So we're at the half and the game is tied, 14-14.

President Obama is milkin' the game for all it's worth, and then some... what with performing the coin-toss and then spending about five minutes with the CBS broadcast team.  That's all well and good and I'll cut him some slack today, mainly coz he's giving the Cadets and the Midshipmen their due and is sayin' all the right thangs.  Good on him for that.

I love this game, not so much for the football but for the tradition, the rivalry, the Spirit Messages, and all the shining faces of those ossifers-to-be.  This really is "America's Game."

So.  Halftime.  Time to pour another beer and consider putting a match to a ceegar.  We're still into that Sammy Adams "Winter Classics" 12-pack and there's some damned fine beer in that thang.  We might buy another one of those.

We're Off to a Great Start

Not:

Freezing fog.  Yecch.  That stuff is the precursor to black ice, which causes no end of excitement on the public thoroughfares... just ask any Oregonian.  The good news is we're supposed to warm up today.  Eventually.  All the way up to the high-30s, even!  Yays!  

I frickin' hate winter already and it ain't even here yet.

Broadening Our Horizons XXXVII

Two days in a row, this broadening thang.  Today it's a Sammy Adams Chocolate Bock (rated "B" at BA) which is included in a 12-pack of winter seasonal ales I picked up today.  Like this:

Yeah, I know.  I made a beer run yesterday but the local likker locker didn't have the seasonal "Winter Classics" 12-packs (which includes two each of the above plus two Old Fezziwig Ales, two Black & Brews, two Winter Lagers, two Holiday Porters, and two Boston Lagers) and Wally-World did.  Go figger on that one, eh?  But... in this neck o' the woods ya gotta jump on these thangs while ya can, coz ya never know how long they'll be around or even if they'll come back once the first round is gone.

As for the beer itself?  I give it a B+... mebbe even an A-.  Hearty, tasty, full-bodied, and warming... a perfect accompaniment to one of those Drew Estate Cafe con Leches I got in the mail the other day.  And I mean PERFECT.

It Ain't Just America

The Brits are fed up, too:

Globalization strikes again.

From The Guardian's weekly selection of viral vids.  The Doggie Dunker vid is pretty funny; I considered posting that one.

Your Hockey Red Wings Update...

It's been a while, hasn't it?  Part o' the reason it's been a while is the Beloved Wings came down off a seven-game winning streak by losing two in a row, one to the once-hated-but-now-mostly-pitied-Avs and the other to the resurgent Blues, both games being lost in the opponents' barns.  But the Wings came back home to The Joe last evening and played a game that had us rolling around on the couch in glee.  A lil blurb from NHL.com:

DETROIT – One of Mike Babcock's most common catch phrases is about "starting on time" it's another way of saying a good start to the game by his Detroit Red Wings would be just fine by their coach.

What happened on Thursday night at Joe Louis Arena took it to the extreme. Either the Red Wings started really early or the Phoenix Coyotes were still a time zone or two away. Regardless, Detroit ended a two-game losing streak by scoring early and often in a five-goal first period that paved the way to a 5-2 victory against the stunned Coyotes.

You just don't see that many goals in a single period, or at least you don't see it all that often.  SN1 and I were on the phone for the last three goals and it's serious understatement when I say I was rolling around in glee... we both were.  There ain't nuthin' like a blow-out to ease the pain o' back-to-back losses.

Highlights:

Hockey is a strange sorta game in that almost ANY team can win on any given night, given the parity in the league nowadays.  Well, except for Columbus, mebbe.  There's NO hope there.

Yup

Kinda looks that way, don't it?

From the Usual Source.