DOWN THE SHORE

That's how we say it in NJ.  Not 'at the shore', but 'down the shore'.  I have no idea why, of course.  Just one of those odd regionalisms. 

Thursday I needed to go to Ocean City to pick up some goods I bought through an online government surplus auction, and I decided to make a day of it.  I started by checking out the OC boardwalk, which looked like most others except for one thing.  Ocean City is one of those silly puritanical dry towns scattered throughout New Jersey.  Needless to say I didn't hang out there for long but slipped north to Atlantic City, where the beach is free and beer can be had with your lunch.

It was an excellent day for a shore visit - not too windy and in the mid-70's, and I had lunch on the outside deck at Margaritaville.  I wasn't impressed with their beer selection (I guess they focus on margariras, duh) and the Cuban sandwich was dry, so be warned if you go.  I did try to walk lunch off with a long walk.  The boardwalk is about 5.5  miles long (1.5 miles of it are actually in Ventnor City) so I didn't make much of a dent, but I gave it my best shot.

A couple sat near me on one of the thoughtfully-placed benches, and I heard the woman ask if the little birds were pigeons and the big ones were seagulls!  Rightly guessing that they were not 'from around here', I struck up a conversation.  Turns out they were from a town near Denver, but had escaped any damage from the floods.  They were surprised that the story had been broadcast nationally.  We talked about the terrors of driving in Manhattan, where they had been on the previous day, and they quizzed be about the Jersey Devil.  The husband was a hockey fan, I guess, and had heard that there was a story behind the name of New Jersey's hockey team.  I did suggest they stop in at Bill's Gyros, which is a favorite of mine in AC.  I've no idea how long they've been there, but they serve the best gyros you'll ever have this side of the Atlantic in the oddest dive imaginable.  Nearly every surface is covered with currency, most of it dollar bills, and nearly all with some good luck wishes written on it.  They are open 24/7/365, so you can get beer and a meal at 3AM if need be.

I did go into the casino for a bit.  I've never been much of a casino gambler.  I don't like the mindlessness of the slots, and am not good enough at Blackjack to survive long at the tables (I cannot play poker).  But I did spend a short while at one of the electronic blackjack machines.  Showboat has only a few, but I know where they're hidden.  Played until I won ten bucks and found I had lost interest, so I left.

IRISH COFFEE

I will often drink what I call the Irish working man's Irish coffee, which consists of two things - coffee and Irish whiskey.  This normally entails some discussion with the bartender in order to not get anything fancier.

The modern drink most bartenders know as Irish Coffee was invented in the '50's by a man named Stanton Delaplane at the Buena Vista bar in San Francisco.  It was a mixture of sugar, coffee, and Irish whiskey, with a layer of aged heavy cream floated on top.  Most bars today are ill-equipped to do the cream floating trick, so they use whipped cream instead and mix Bailey's Irish Cream into the drink.  The most outlandish variation has green Crème de Menthe drizzled on top of the whipped cream.  Now I'm not saying that such a concoction isn't tasty, but it isn't anything like the one done up by Delaplane, who was actually trying to reproduce the drink he was served in a bar at Shannon airport.

I have actually seen the ceremony the Buena Vista made out of preparing their signature drink, when I was stationed at Treasure Island in 1968, and later when I returned to the Bay area in the '70's to live for a time.  The bartender would stand out a row of their special Irish Coffee glasses and then go up and down the row, tossing in the sugar cubes, then pouring the whiskey, then the coffee, going back to each glass for a stir, then finally floating the cream over the back of a spoon onto each serving.  Quite impressive theater. 

My reason for preferring my 'working man's' version is simple.  I like the taste of coffee, and prefer it unadulterated with cream.  And I think the whiskey is sweet enough and requires no sugar.  I even have a version for hot weather, made with iced coffee, which I call a 'chilly Irishman'.

By the way, I have tried this with Scotch (the fancy version is known as a Highland Coffee) but it doesn't work as well for me; the marriage with the coffee doesn't seem to work as well.

On a final note, I remember that what my father liked to put in his coffee was Anisette.  I don't know what Jackie Gleason put in his.  Here's an excerpt from a review of his old show.

Much of the comedy on the Jackie Gleason show revolved around alcohol, as apparently did much of Gleason’s adult life. He once insisted to his biographer James Bacon, “I am not an alcoholic. I’m a drunkard”. a difference possibly only understood by heavy drinkers. The show often began with Gleason sitting on a chair and talking to the audience while drinking a cup of “coffee”, which, judging from his rolling eyes after he took a sip, was apparently a lot stronger than your average cup. More alcohol was featured in another comedy bit which featured Jackie as the outrageous showman and bon vivant Reginald Van Gleason. His always flamboyant and elaborate entrance on-stage came in top hat, tails and white gloves, with his hair slicked backwards. Despite his sartorial splendor, Reginald usually kept a bottle of liquor in his pocket, occasionally dropping the whole bottle into a water cooler. When he would then take a drink, Gleason would not only roll his eyes, but would be accompanied by a loud bang on a drum.

The most famous bit on the Jackie Gleason show took place in a bar itself, with Gleason playing Joe the bartender. After a few jokes, Joe would be joined by a character known as Crazy Guggenheim, played by Frank Fontaine. Guggenheim, usually just called “Craze” by Joe, was apparently inebriated himself, finishing most of his sentences with a whining laugh. But the segment in the bar would always end with Guggenheim singing.

Read the whole review here:

http://www.helium.com/items/2138513-tv-show-review-the-jackie-gleason-show

ALONE

I realized something the other day.  For the first time (practically) in my entire life I am living alone.

I don't mean I feel alone.  I have family and friends to call or visit if I wish; I don't feel alone in that sense.  And I can, and do, go out and interact with people.  I sell at flea markets, I go to bars, and I go to festivals.  So I have no lack of human contact.

But I live alone.

In my entire life I can remember only a few months here and there when I had a place all to myself.  Before I was married I lived in apartments with roommates, it made it easier to get by on my small salary at Radio Shack.  And before that I was in the Navy, and before that I was at home going to school.

Now I was alone when I travelled to California in my little trailer, but that seems different somehow.  I was on a journey then and had, if not a set schedule, at least an overall plan of travel taking me from place to place.  So while I was alone, it was different.

Mind you, I'm not writing this piece to complain.  There is an odd freedom to my life where the only schedule is that which I decide on for myself.  And that is largely done moment by moment.  There are chores, of course, I have a big house to manage, but life is definitely more stream-of-consciousness now.

It is an interesting kind of freedom.

Solar Eclipse - from MARS!

I am giving a link here to one of the most AWESOME videos I've seen in a long time.  It was taken from the surface of Mars by the Curiosity Rover, and is an eclipse of the sun by Mars' larger moon Phobos.

http://t.now.msn.com/mars-solar-eclipse-video-shows-moon-phobos-eclipse-the-sun

Until human history finally catches up with the promises made by science fiction writers from Verne to Heinlein, this is the closest I'll ever come to seeing a sight like this in person.

I would, by the way, give everything I own to go to the moon, let alone Mars.

BICYCLES

This morning as I ducked out of the way of yet another cyclist cruising down the sidewalk, I couldn’t help but wonder whatever happened to the instructions one used to receive on the proper and safe operation of this vehicle.  And they are vehicles, subject to the same road rules as their motorized cousins, including the rule that vehicles do not belong on the sidewalk.  I do understand that some roads do not have paved shoulders, to say nothing of a bike lane, yet that hardly justifies a cyclist from leaving the road and endangering pedestrians.

I remember learning the rules in elementary school: ride on the right, with traffic; obey traffic signals; signal your turns; etc.  Why, there was even a Disney song to help you remember.  Here’s a link to a little trip down memory lane: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y86r2_svyZE.  The picture quality’s not the best (how good will you look at 60?), but I’ll wager you be humming “I’m no fool, no siree . . .” the rest of the day.  Now if we could just get it on every cyclist’s iPod.