The Difference Between Craft Beer and Bumillecoors

It's all in how it's brewed...

This is actually a beer ad for Hahn Super Dry, an Australian beer.

h/t:  A tweet from beer47.

I Just Got Off the Phone...

... with Flo.  We had a short and VERY pleasing conversation, at least as far as I'm concerned.  Which went something like this:

Flo:  How can I help you today, Mr. Pennington?
Me:  I need to cancel my policy, please.
Flo:  Oh, I'm sorry to hear that... may I ask why you're cancelling?
Me:  Because you wouldn't give me your preferential rate due to bogus "bad credit" information.  I'm with USAA now.

And that was pretty much that, except for minor details.  USAA is charging me MUCH less than half the amount Progressive was bending me over for.  I smiled broadly throughout the entire conversation.

::Chirpy Flo voice:: 
"Discount!"
::/Chirpy Flo voice::

An Interesting and Provocative Essay

That would be "An Empty Regard," by William Deresiewicz, in yesterday's NYT.  The essay is about about the "cult of uniform" in America and has some interesting points.  A few excerpts...

NO symbol is more sacred in American life right now than the military uniform. The cross is divisive; the flag has been put to partisan struggle. But the uniform commands nearly automatic and universal reverence. In Congress as on television, generals are treated with awed respect, service members spoken of as if they were saints. Liberals are especially careful to make the right noises: obeisance to the uniform having become the shibboleth of patriotism, as anti-Communism used to be. Across the political spectrum, throughout the media, in private and public life, the pieties and ritual declarations are second nature now: “warriors,” “heroes,” “mission”; “our young men and women in uniform,” “our brave young men and women,” “our finest young people.” So common has this kind of language become, we scarcely notice it anymore. 

[...]

As the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have dragged on, other purposes have come into play. The greater the sacrifice that has fallen on one small group of people, the members of the military and their families, the more we have gone from supporting our troops to putting them on a pedestal. In the Second World War, everybody fought. Soldiers were not remote figures to most of us; they were us. Now, instead of sharing the burden, we sentimentalize it. It’s a lot easier to idealize the people who are fighting than it is to send your kid to join them. This is also a form of service, I suppose: lip service. 

[...]

The irony is that our soldiers are the last people who are likely to call themselves heroes and are apparently very uncomfortable with this kind of talk. The military understands itself as a group endeavor. As the West Point professor Elizabeth D. Samet recently noted, service members feel uneasy when strangers approach them to — as the well-meaning but oddly impersonal ritual goes — thank them for their service, thereby turning them into paradoxically anonymous celebrities. It was wrong to demonize our service members in Vietnam; to canonize them now is wrong as well. Both distortions make us forget that what they are are human beings. 

About his last... I'm glad someone finally came out and said it.  Ms. Samet is right... I speak only for myself here but have no doubt my sentiment is not uncommon... that we who served, and currently serve, are more than slightly embarrassed by all this "thank you for your service" stuff.  I know those expressions of thanks and gratitude are well-meant and I really DO appreciate them.  Being a member of the Vietnam generation, I much prefer being embarrassed and at a loss for words in these circumstances than being totally ignored (or worse yet: spat upon), as was the case back in the '60s and '70s.  But forgive me if I shuffle my feet, look down at the ground, and simply murmur "thanks for that" when you offer YOUR thanks.  I, and thousands like me, simply did my duty as we saw fit to do.  Thanks are not required... it was an honor to serve.

But we digress.  I hope you go and read Mr. Deresiewicz' article because he makes some very valid, interesting, and provocative points.  His missive made me think.

Now let's pick a nit.  Here's the illustration that accompanied the article:

WTF is up with THAT?  I find this illustration insulting and offensive to the MAX.  Corporal stripes... brass... where "US" ought to go?  Seemingly random ribbons placed in a haphazard and decidedly NON-military fashion?  And Naval Aviator wings... improperly placed on an ARMY uniform?  At least I think this is supposed to be an Army uniform, but something about it isn't quite right. 

Was the NYT trying to piss off the military with this illustration?  They certainly succeeded, if so.  There are ample photos and graphics extant of real individuals wearing real military uniforms, which could have been cropped to preserve an individual's anonymity.  But, no... the NYT had to go and publish this fucking travesty of an illustration.  But, Hey!  It's the Times, ain't it?  I really shouldn't expect accuracy and respect out of those asshats.

Apropos o' Not Much

Doesn't that look delicious?  I might just be the best beer-pourer in these United States... always a perfect head with nary a drop spilled or otherwise wasted.

Yeah, It IS to Worry

I haven't looked at my 401(k) since June... simply because I'm afraid to do that.  Sometimes ignorance really IS bliss.

My 401(k) survived 1987 and all the subsequent recessions pretty nicely but it got the Hell beat out of it during 2000's dot-bomb implosion (bein' a techie I was heavy in tech).  I never really recovered from that debacle, what with losing about half of what I had put away.  Still and even, we made a little progress since the turn o' the century, at least until THIS thing came along.  It's likely I won't recover from this beating... late-life recessions suck, and mightily so.

Tonight's ADWH Soundtrack

Matt "Guitar" Murphy with... no kidding... "Buck's Boogie:"

Why... thank ya, Matt.  I think I'm gonna name my first-born in honor of this tune.  Speakin' of... this tune has everything I like about whiskey drinkin' music: a tinkling honky-tonk piano, economical but evocative guitar licks, and a honkin' sax.  It rarely gets better than this, Gentle Reader.  Needless to say, we were listenin' to a lot o' blues this evening... it was that kinda night.

I mentioned in the post below that we would be broadening our horizons this evening and we most certainly did.  I knocked back about six fingers worth of that Johnnie Walker Green... poured over two ice cubes in three installments... and I'm impressed.  The long and the short of it: Green is worthy; I like this blend even better than the Gold.  

While JW Green isn't silky smooth like the Gold it has a LOT more character.  That's not to say the dram isn't smooth, because it is.  No, the Green is a lot smokier and the peat overtones are very prominent, as is the peppery "bite" of the whiskey, which is just damned near perfect in my book.  That sensation isn't overpowering like the sort of bite you get with most bourbons, it's just enough to let you know that this is whiskey... and that's a good thing.  The taste begins with a pleasant sweet sensation in the mouth until such time as the smoky peat comes to the fore and then it finishes off with a very pleasing warmth that lasts and lasts.  I don't care WHAT Kermit sez... it's very easy bein' green when your green is made by Johnnie Walker.

Highly recommended!

Added, 2200 hrs:  I said I'd get back to ya, Gentle Reader, on the matter of what the empty glass smells like (see the post below).  Well, we gave it an hour and then we subjected the empty glass to an extensive nose test.  Alas, the glass smells NOTHING like herb... just whiskey, which is pretty nice, in and of itself.  We spent a lot o' time with our nose buried in the empty glass... like this:

Nothing even remotely like pot came to mind.  We did briefly entertain the notion of goin' back for fourths, but we resisted.

Broadening Our Horizons XXIX

We're just in from a re-supply and provisioning run out to Cannon Airplane Patch where we bought the essentials:  beer and single-malt.  No, wait... no single-malt this time; we opted for another one of Mr. Walker's high-end blends seein' as how we were suitably impressed with that Johnnie Walker Gold.  So we're gonna try what you see at right during tonight's After Dinner Whiskey Hour.  About which, this:

Four signature malts provide the key taste influences for this 15-year-old whisky. Talisker™ introduces power and depth of character, Caol Ila™ contributes mystery and intensity and, at its heart, Cragganmore™ provides a sweet maltiness, while Linkwood™ adds a final touch of finesse.

Blending exclusively with malts produces a rich, powerful whisky, with each one giving its own intense flavor and aromas to create a perfect combination.

With its rich gold amber appearance, this medium-full malt summons up a multiplicity of complex natural aromas. It starts on the seashore and drifts inland over moist moss and through evergreen forest. Then come the exotic notes of orange peel, stewed peaches, cooked black fruits and sour cherry.

I've had Talisker and Cragganmore before; I've never sampled the other two components of the blend.  The bottle is in the freezer as we speak, gettin' all nice and chilly for its debut here at El Casa Móvil de Pennington.

Oh, one more thang... we bought food, too.  Life ain't all beer and skittles single-malts now, izzit? 

Added, somewhat later:  So... there I was, surfin and lookin' for reviews of JW Green, when I came across this:

Empty glass:

Interestingly when smelling the empty glass after letting it dry on the table for a while there is a sweet smell similar to marijuana.

I know this because I once had marijuana flavoured lollipop which smelled exactly like this only a little stronger.

Heh.  And, like Clinton, I'm sure our reviewer did NOT inhale (and it was a pot-flavored lollipop, besides).  We shall not wash our glass when we're done with ADWH tonight... and I'll be sure and get back to you on the "smells like pot" thang.  I'll know from whence I speak, too... coz, unlike the Big Dog, I most certainly DID inhale once upon a time.  But we don't do that any longer, Gentle Reader.  Our abstinence doesn't come from a sudden attack of morals or respect for dumb-ass laws; no, it's a matter of health.  My lungs, wracked with emphysema as they are, do not need any more tars or other foreign substances fouling up the airways. 

―:☺:―

I don't know what to make of this... 

Is that a Pro-Perry or Anti-Perry cartoon?  On the one hand, one could interpret this as Miss America likes Good Ol' Boys... macho-men... in the Oval Office instead of nerds (think: present occupant, who is a pseudo- or wanna-bee nerd).  OTOH, one could view this as "Mitt The Serious One" while Perry is just a Good Time Charlie.  One thing is certain, though... Mr. Holbert is a DamnYankee (all one word).  Nobody wears their Levis tucked into their boots... NO-Frickin'-BODY... except for foreign rock stars who don't know any better.