I looked at the logo on the coffee cup I use a couple of times every week and started thinking about how some brands and people take me back to being a kid every time.
That elongated S for Studebaker transports me to the days I always rode in the back seat with my two brothers. Dad bought a succession of Studebakers through the 1950s and mid-60s, sold on the company and the trusted Werner dealership he favored. I remember how foreign the back seat of that 1965 Ford Galaxie felt.
There are few brands that feel so linked to my childhood – but there are a few. Continue reading Brands of my kid-dom
A couple of months ago or so, Leinenkugel Brewing Co. introduced something called Anniversary Lager. Just the concept is interesting: This is the 150th anniversary of Leinenkugel’s. It’s also the 400th anniversary of Hofbräu München.
“This special beer combines the best of both breweries,” the box says. “Brewed in the spirit of Reinheitsgebot (purity law), this German-style amber lager is brewed with some imported German malts and all-American hops to create a beer that is flavorful, balanced and refreshing.”
Rarely does a product live up to the copy hype, but Leinenkugel’s Anniversary Lager is indeed flavorful, balanced and refreshing. It’s been my go-to adult beverage all summer. Of course, all bets come off every Aug. 1.
Leinenkugel’s Oktoberfest is an annual tradition for me. Two or three years ago I realized that it appears on the shelves on Aug. 1 every year. I posted this photo on Facebook with the caption, “Yep, it’s really August again! Here’s the proof.”
I got a handful of comments about “Oh, no, October, noooo!!!!” from people who didn’t get the point. I wasn’t making fun of the release date two months before October; I was celebrating Aug. 1 the way I always do now – by seeking out the new release at the beer store.
This Märzen style beer is a smooth, malty treat that goes down easy and comfortable. From now until somewhere around mid-November, this will be the taste that soothes me after a day’s work (or at least once I finish my stash of Anniversary Lager). I love my Yuengling when I have the opportunity to quaff it, but Leinenkugel’s Oktoberfest is my best old late summer/early fall friend. Yum!
Between these two, it’s been a Leinenkugel’s year for me. They get a lot of mileage out of their Honey Weiss and summer shandies, but you can have those. I’ll take these great German-style beers every time.
After inhaling All Around the Town, a novel by Mary Higgins Clark, in one weekend, I decided to try another of her mystery-suspense stories and pulled the only available audiobook out of the local library: No Place Like Home.
I was immediately put off by the book’s outlandish premise: A woman who killed her mother accidentally at age 10 while protecting her from her brutal stepfather has pledged to her dying first husband not to reveal her past to anyone again – and her second husband just happens to buy her a new house for her birthday that just happens to be the childhood home where her mother died.
The monstrous coincidence – which I presumed would turn out not to be a coincidence – and the character’s reticence to tell her husband the truth (her husband!!!), almost put me off to continuing the story.
But then the narrator explained where the story is set: It all comes down in Mendham, New Jersey, less than five miles from where I spent the second half of my childhood. What are the odds, of all the books in the world, I would randomly pick up one that was set in my hometown?
If that kind of coincidence is possible in the real world, why not the crazy coincidence Clark asks me to accept in hers? So off we went …
The best time to attend a Peninsula Players outdoor production is the last performance. But that makes offering a review a challenge, because who wants to read that they missed a chance to see a real gem?
For readers who live beyond the reach of Door County, Wisconsin, the Players are a professional theater troupe who produce four shows every summer in their renowned Theater in the Garden just south of Fish Creek, plus a fall production in the friendly confines of Door Community Auditorium.
The outdoor shows – which are actually staged inside a wonderful pavilion so rainouts are no longer an issue – usually take place at 8 p.m. (7:30 p.m. Sundays), but the last performance is a 4 p.m. matinee, which allows budding geezers like me to get home by sunset even though we live an hour away (my home county is a looong peninsula).
And so we attended the July 2 final performance of “The Actuary,” arriving an hour early so we could stroll through the garden, enjoy the view of the water, and watch other theater goers nurse their glass of wine or two before the show. Continue reading Before that happened, this happened
After reading a chapter about setting goals the other day, I pondered:
What are my goals, anyway?
Ultimately, I thought, the goal is to have time to sit and read and listen and compose music and write.
… To have time to do what’s important to me …
To have time … except we all have time. 60 seconds a minute, 60 minutes an hour, 24 hours a day, etc.
“To have time to …” is a false barrier, isn’t it?
Every day, every hour, every minute is composed of a series of choices and actions. You choose to act this way or that way. The choices you make determine the time you have.
You probably didn’t intend to jump down an internet rabbit hole, but you did choose to jump. And there went the opportunity to make another choice.
“Finding time” is easy: Decide what you intend to do. And do that, not the other thing.
Happenings around the world, including the attempted assassination of U.S. congressmen at a baseball practice this week, always remind me of the opening lines of my little anti-war anarchist novel The Imaginary Revolution, which I was merrily writing along five summers ago now.
This was the first fragment I wrote on the ImagRev blog, and it never got dislodged as the book’s introduction:
I always thought war was stupid.
I mean, think about it. You and your adversary disagree about something, and the solution is to send your citizens to fight each other to the death?
You’re never going to succeed in killing each and every one of your adversary’s citizens, so even if you win, there are thousands of people who still believe in whatever it was you were trying to obliterate.
You can’t kill an idea.
The book is told in the first person by the main character, Ray Kaliber, but on this point (among a few others) the author and his character are in complete agreement.
People are just so angry anymore, so easily offended, so eager to believe the worst about people who disagree with us, just so darn mad at each other.
How did we get this way? I got to thinkin’.
What if the smoke in the smoke-filled rooms was a good thing? You know, the smoke-filled rooms where political deals were hashed out, once upon a time.
What if there was something in the tobacco that calmed the soul and made people more amenable and more willing to listen? What if tobacco really is a sacred substance that brings peace among warring men? What if by injecting tobacco with cancerous additives that killed so many, we drove ourselves away from a substance that made us more willing to reason, to negotiate, to understand the other point of view?
What if we got so polarized, so indignant with one another, so intolerant of other world views, because deep down in our bodies we just needed a smoke?
So much might be accomplished for the good if we just reclaimed the universal opening line of so many successful meetings of the mind: “Hey, buddy, you got a cigarette?” “Hey, friend, you want a smoke?”
I don’t smoke – never have. I’m just wondering.