Weird Al Is BACK!

Too frickin' cool...

Now I've never seen a Lady Gaga performance (no fuckin' geezer jokes, mmmkay?) but I have it on good authority this spoof is spot-on.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack, AKA My Dark Secret

Bee Gees:

The tune was also on the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack album as if you didn't know, Gentle Reader, assuming you're "of a certain age."  And yeah: I bought it.  And I played it, a lot.  From The Wiki:

The cultural impact of Saturday Night Fever in the United States was tremendous.

[...]

The soundtrack also won a Grammy Award for Album of the Year.^[4]

In 2003, the album was ranked number 131 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.

The soundtrack hit the #1 spot on Billboard Music Chart's Pop Album and Soul Album charts. In 2003 the TV network VH1 named it the 57th greatest album of all time.

Pretty successful, no?  The album's success and sales make it all the more interesting that a lot of my contemporaries pull a "Good Morning, Mr. Phelps" where SNF is concerned, which is to say they "disavow all knowledge" of its existence and the fact they boogied down to the tunes therein.  That might also be because we ALL know "Disco SUCKED," right?  Either that or the missions of my contemporaries weren't successful, thus the disavowal of all knowledge. 

As for me?  The fact I liked the album and always trotted it out at parties (to a universally positive reaction, especially from the wimmen) might be a dark secret in most circles today.  I'm not all that ashamed to admit it, tho... mainly because I got laid a lot had several deeply rewarding bonding experiences that were initiated and helped along while dancing to this album and I'm forever grateful for that.  The night often began with a lil Jive Talkin' and Boogie Shoes but moved on to How Deep Is Your Love? by the time the lights went low and things got serious, or as serious as they got back then.  Relatively speaking.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

A chestnut...

Someone who was once close to me has a "55" milestone comin' up in a couple o' few days.  I might include this tune in my annual message on that date but I'm undecided at the moment.  It's either "Ol' 55" or mebbe this one, coz like the Red Rocker... I can't drive 55 (any longer).  I most definitely drove that thing once upon a time and we might have broken a few speed limits, back in the day.  And other things.  Heh.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Waylon... doin' one of my all-time favorite tunes:

I'm gonna find me
a hole in the wall
I'm gonna crawl inside and die
Come a later now
a mean ol' woman, Lord
never told me goodbye

Heh.  Those lyrics cut waaay too damned close to the bone.  It's a funny thang (funny strange, not funny ha-ha), but I was kinda sorta goin' through those ol' "she done me wrong" blues when the Marshall Tucker Band released this song back in the mid-70s.  Little did I know what was to come down the tracks those many years later...

So there's that.  The song has remained a favorite in the intervening years, mainly coz I think it's the finest country blues tune that's EVAH been committed to tape or any other medium.  I've posted the Marshall Tucker Band version of this tune before, which remains the original and best version of the song.  I think Waylon's version is every bit as good as Toy Caldwell's and in some respects exceeds the original... like in the guitar parts.  What's missing, though is that plaintive flute that weaves its way in and out of the MTB's version... which STILL gives me chills.  May it ever be so.

"Nuthin' Up Mah Sleeve!"

"Well, of COURSE not, Bullwinkle... and why would ya want beer up your sleeve, anyway?"

--Rocket J. Squirrel

That by way of introduction, Gentle Reader.  To this:

There is a back-story, of course.  I received an e-mail from Occasional Reader Brad day before yesterday, which said... in part:

You only know me as an occasional poster to your blog, which I totally love. I moved here to Portales last year, and now my stuff has finally caught up with me. My stuff includes a spanking brand new Rocky J. Squirrel glass tumbler, one that I actually helped create for a firm called Toon Tumblers. I had it in mind for you a while back when you referenced Rocky and Bullwinkle in one of your posts.

...

All I ask is that at some point, you include the glass in one of your great beer shots on the blog! :-)

Well, Hell Yes... C'mon down, Brad!  And so he did, leaving me with the tumbler you see above AND a matching Rocket J. Squirrel pint glass, which I'll feature in another beer post in future.  Brad is a graphic arts instructor at ENMU and used to live in Noo Yawk before moving to P-Ville.  As luck would have it (and because these here inter-tubes are a wonderful thing!), you can see more examples of his work here.

Thanks, Brad... and Prosit!

―:☺:―

Which brings us to Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack...

No... wait.  That's not it, even though it prolly should be.  What we're really listening to today is this, in part:

This would be Kate Nash... new to me but mebbe not to YOU, Gentle Reader, given that you're hip to all this new kinda stuff...

Well, now.  Isn't that a lovely confection?  Young Kate reminds me of someone but I can't put my finger on who that might be.  No matter, I listened to this about three times in a row and liked it more with every listen.  YMMV, of course.

The Sunday Re-Run... With Comments!

I just might take the (blogging) day off today but it's too soon to tell, given it's Saturday night and the new day ain't even close to bein' upon us.  So... if I DO take the day off this will be Sunday's sole post and it's (as noted) a re-run.  I came upon this as I was goin' through the archives in search of sumthin' entirely different (which I didn't find).  But that's not unusual... I can't ever find shit I'm looking for.  On my own blog.  And that, Gentle Reader, is a sad state of affairs.  But we digress.

No, I came upon this confessional tale o' woe, wherein I put my shit out on the street for all to see and remark upon when it comes to my insensitive side.  I like to think I've changed my ways but there are prolly a couple o' women around who would disagree, some vehemently.  That's their prerogative and I'll not argue the point... perception is indeed reality... unless those same women would like to do so in person.  But we digress, yet again.  Here's the Insensitive Me:

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack... And...

We were in a Motown sorta mood for today's Happy Hour.  Here's one of the tunes we listened to as we knocked back a couple o' beers and enjoyed a Deep Dish:

Which brought to mind one of the first of not so many dirty deeds we've perpetrated on The Fairer Sex in this life. So, like it or don't, a reminiscence…

The year is 1962… specifically the Spring of that year… the place is San Jose, California. The Shirelles hit the Big Time that year, and the song above was one of my favorites then and it had quite a bit of overt and covert meaning for me and my Main Squeeze at the time…a wonderful girl-woman by the name of Marcy.

Marcy… she being about five foot three, kinda-sorta plump (finest kind!) and possessing a dazzling smile, among other wondrous things… was wonderful in more than a few ways. First and foremost, she was a girl who found me (sorta) fascinating, a minor miracle in and of itself. Second, she was a girl who ignored the conventions of the time in that she (a) was dating a guy who was about her same age; (b) I was a guy who had neither a car of my own nor a driver's license… something that was highly unusual at that point in time for a guy of my age and location (suburban NorCal); and (c) she was free with her charms... ample as they most certainly were... at least where I was concerned. Marcy, to her everlasting credit, had access to her parents' car and would pick me up and drive us about San Jose whenever we were free, seemingly without concern about the damage this would do to her image. And we were kinda-sorta in love… or as much "in love" as one can be when one is 17 and just beginning to figger stuff out. That's the background.

So… there we were… it was the eve of our Junior-Senior Prom and I was at work, doing landscaping things.

Time for yet another minor digression: I was living with my employer and his family at the time. My father and the rest of my family had moved down to LA a couple o' few months previously, Dad having taken a new job in LA and me not wanting to go along. So, with the help of kindly Mr. Roberts (my employer), we worked out a deal whereby I would remain behind in San Jose... going to school, working and living with Mr. Roberts and his family while Dad & Co traipsed off to LA. Marcy figured prominently into this calculation, by the way. Remember: we were In Love.

So, back to it. My foreman… Mr. Roberts' son… and I got into a helluva argument over the fact I wanted to leave work early and get ready for Prom Night. He wouldn't let me go; I was adamant I HAD to leave. It came down to "leave if you want… but if you do, you're fired." So I did what any impetuous 17-year old would do: I said "Fuck You. I'm leaving. Take your job and shove it." And I walked off the job, commandeering a ride from one of my co-workers back to Mr. Roberts' house. But there's more… I realized that I was gonna be out of a place to live by the virtue of the fact I'd just quit my job, in NO uncertain terms. So I took about 20 minutes and collected all my belongings, packed them up in a duffle bag, and walked out. I got my buddy to drive me down to the San Jose bus station and about 45 minutes (or so) later I was on a bus… LA bound.

And herein lays the dirty deed: I left Marcy hanging, without even making so much as a phone call to let her know I was leaving. And I never spoke to her again, to add insult to injury. I've often wondered about her in the intervening years, and if she ever gives (or gave) a thought to the asshole she loved who simply disappeared on what is arguably one of the biggest nights of one's teen years.

I suppose that kinda-sorta answers the rhetorical question… "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?"… doesn't it? And all that said… I've had worse done to me, and I've done worse. But we won't go THERE. Let's just pop open another brew and go back outside…

13 Astute Observations:

Sam said...

Dad, Never heard that one... another reason why you need to come out to the burg so we can talk more and have a drink of single malt at the bar downstairs. It may be the only use that bar gets!

11/10/2009 5:09 PM

JimmyT said...

Talk about burning bridges! I wonder if there is some goes-around, comes-around due on that!! I don't think I could top this when it comes to burning the fairer sex. I do have wonder about my one Girlfriend, she moved to OK and I have always wondered about her. BT: Jimmy T sends.

11/10/2009 5:57 PM

Reese said...

Wow. I was on the other side of a deed roughly as bad. Sucks. Love stinks. The song that triggers the memory for me is "Shout" by Tears for Fears. I guess (rationalize) that the reason you posted this is well, to post it (all the reason you need), and because the song brought it all back. Word verification: "cortt" Ouch.

11/10/2009 7:53 PM

Buck said...

Sam: There are MANY tales of my youth you've never heard... most of which you never WILL hear, LOL! That said, we'll put that bar to good use. Jimmy: Yeah, I burnt a couple of bridges that day. That happens when you're young and stupid. As far as "goes around, comes around"... maybe I'm living it. (Big-Ass grin goes here) Bob: Love does stink, indeed. As for my reason for posting... it's all wrapped up in the memory triggered by that song. Music is very powerful that way.

11/10/2009 8:25 PM

Reese said...

"...it's all wrapped up in the memory triggered by that song. Music is very powerful that way." That was my point. And as you say, yours. Still, wow.

11/10/2009 9:43 PM

Kris, in New England said...

I was never lucky in love as a teen, but never that unlucky...ouch. And on prom night - oh Buck. No. And life goes on.

11/11/2009 7:36 AM

Barco Sin Vela II said...

What. A. Bummer. 17 year olds are awfully silly. I would have gotten a motel room, brought the Honey to the prom and called it a childhood. Then I would have enlisted in the Marines. (Wait... Except for the Motel and the Prom, That really happened!) Great memory you shared. I hope she forgave you, and more importantly; that you forgave yourself.

11/11/2009 9:31 AM

Gordon said...

Wow. Having done a couple of deeds of a similar nature of dastardy, I can wince in sympathy. I have learned, from the victim of one such deed, that forgiveness is possible.

11/11/2009 10:28 AM

Buck said...

Kris: As I said: young and stupid. I was all ate up with anger and didn't give a thought to the girl until much later... like halfway to LA... and then I was too embarrassed to call her and apologize once I got to my parents' place. Stupid. Darryl: I did forgive myself, years and years later. Gordon: I really DO hope she forgave me. The kinda shi'ite I pulled can sour a girl on men for life. Or maybe I'm just being hyperbolic. ;-)

11/11/2009 10:35 AM

Suldog said...

Oh, man, Buck. You suck! Just kidding, of course. You're still my good buddy blogger. But, wow, that was harsh (as you know, and acknowledge, and all the good stuff that makes you the nice guy you are.) I assume you may have tried to locate her via the tools available: Google, etc., without luck?

11/11/2009 10:49 AM

Buck said...

So.. we had this offline, Jim and I. Wherein I replied: Further embarrassment: I don't remember her last name, which has probably changed (at least once) by now. That WAS 47 years ago... He came back with "Now that's pretty funny. I don't suppose just Googling "Marcy" would get you much of anywhere :-) God bless, Buck. We've all got our memories we'd rather have been more lovable in. At least, I know I do. I bet every person who reads your story and knows a Marcy will ask her some questions, though. Who knows? You might get lucky. It might lead to someone showing up at La Casa someday with a rifle :-)" And she would be but one of many. If she took the time, about which I'm thankful they DON'T. (big-ass grin goes here)

11/11/2009 3:20 PM

Bag Blog said...

I'm sure Marcy was hurt, but she probably figured it all out and moved on - making her a better woman for it. "Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover" must have played fifty times on the radio the night a boyfriend did something similar to me. When I hear that song today, I think about how stupid I was for letting him hurt me.

11/12/2009 6:26 AM

Buck said...

Lou: One couldn't even begin to count up the casualties in the War Of The Sexes, could they? But we manage to survive...

11/12/2009 10:49 AM

Ah. We were quite the little shit now, weren't we?

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Well, it will be... once the sun is well and truly over the yardarm.  I gotta give credit to Deb for this one, as she put up a post about Robbie Robertson, a recent recipient of the Order of Canada.  One thing leads to another, of course and I had to share my very favorite Robertson song with Deb and her readers.  And I'll share it with you too, Gentle Reader.

I wanna breathe when you breathe
When you whisper like that hot
summer breeze
Count the beads of sweat that cover me
Didn't you show me a sign, this time

"Broken Arrow" is off of RR's self-titled album of 1987... which has many more than a few great tunes (think: "Somewhere Down the Crazy River") and used to be in continuous rotation in the way-back.  "Broken Arrow" had sumthin' like "Our Song" status in Former Happy Days and it still has a tendency to make me rather misty.  If I let it.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Well, this is certainly depressing but is no way indicative of my mood on this sunny early evening:

Oh, yeah
It’s easy to forget, yeah
When you choke on the regrets, yeah
Who the hell did I think I was?

And stranger than your sympathy
And all these thoughts you stole from me
And I’m not sure where I belong
And no where’s home and no more wrong

The song isn't indicative of our mood at all, coz today is a welcome break from the maelstrom.  We ARE taking advantage by spending the better part of three hours outdoors on the verandah, catching up on our reading while incrementally reducing the contents of both fridge and humidor.  Nope, the song was popular in my recent past and still rings a couple of wistful bells, even today... kinda like the tolling of a single bell over a windswept Yorkshire moor in winter.  Ah... we're not very good at constructing metaphors, are we?

About Tomorrow...

Our friends at NMA have something to say about that:

And so does Blog-Bud Jim.  Hell, everyone is weighing in on this.  Me?  I'm with Michael Stipe & Co.

Broadening XXIV, Teh Funny, and Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

We're just in from an uneventful re-supply run, where we cut corners and bought beer at Wally-World instead of the beer store, which is our usual practice.  But Wally-World surprises me at times... and this is indicative:

From that Lil Ol' Brewery in Shiner, Tejas... it's Bohemian (style) Black Lager, rated B- at Beer Advocate.  I'd go a notch higher and give it a full-blown "B" but I'm easy, yanno?  Our cigar today is (what's left of) one of those Nica Libre 1990s I was on about yesterday.

―:☺:―

My Buddy Ed In Florida comes through again:

The economy is so bad that...

I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.

Wives are having sex with their husbands because they can't afford batteries.

CEOs are now playing miniature golf.

A stripper was killed when her audience showered her with rolls of pennies while she danced.

I saw a Mormon with only one wife.

If the bank returns your check marked "Insufficient Funds," you call them and ask if they meant you or them.

Angelina Jolie adopted a child from America .

My cousin had an exorcism but couldn't afford to pay for it, so they re-possessed her!

A picture is now only worth 200 words.

When Bill and Hillary travel together, they now have to share a room.

Congress says they are looking into this Bernard Madoff scandal. Oh Great! The guy who made $50 Billion disappear is being investigated by the people who made $1.5 Trillion disappear!

I was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, wars, jobs, my savings, Social Security, retirement funds, etc., I called the Suicide Hotline. I got a call center in Pakistan , and when I told them I was suicidal, they got all excited, and asked if I could drive a truck. 

Some of these have a lotta miles on 'em, but a couple were new to me.  They're ALL good, though.

―:☺:―

We're listening to Neil today...

That would be the acoustic take which is just as good as the full-blown rocker.  It's understood that YMMV, Gentle Reader, but we're in a mellow mood today.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Five For Fighting...

There are a lot of reasons to like this song... not the least of which is the group's hockey-derived name (heh)... but I particularly like the sentiments expressed herein.  OTOH, I'm left thinkin' that I can only WISH I had a hundred years to live.  Reality is something other than this and reality is quite the bitch.  But we shall live for the moment, eh?

Still.  We're in for a refill and we're enjoying our first al fresco Happy Hour in quite a long time, as the wind finally ceased and desisted after WELL over a week of huffin' and puffin' and attempting to blow our house down.  We ARE taking advantage as a result of the temporary becalming, for t'is the nicest of nice days here on The High Plains of New Mexico.  Witness:

Yup.  Life is GOOD and now it's back outside to continue as we've begun: there's lotsa Newcastle Brown Ale in the fridge and Drew Estate Red Eyes in the humidor.

White Girls Singin' and Playin' Da Blues For YOU!

A friend sends this along: Zepparella.

These ladies have Page, Plant, Bonham, and Jones DOWN.  The vocalist and the guitarist add just enough personal touches to make the cover interesting and the whole thing just cooks.  That lady sure blows a fine harp, too.  As my friend sez: "I like!"

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Everlast...

I've seen a rich man beg
I've seen a good man sin
I've seen a tough man cry
I've seen a loser win
And a sad man grin
I heard an honest man lie
I've seen the good side of bad
And the down side of up
And everything between
I licked the silver spoon
Drank from the golden cup
Smoked the finest green
I stroked the baddest dimes at least a couple of times
Before I broke their heart
You know where it ends
Yo, it usually depends on where you start

O, ain't it all so true... and thus endeth today's lesson.  Beer me!

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

My favorite Canadian chirp...  Well, check that.  My favorite chirp, regardless of nationality.

Old man sleeping on his bags
Women with that teased up kind of hair
Kids with the jitters in their legs
And those wide wide open stares
And the kids got cokes & chocolate bars
There's a thin man smoking a fat cigar
Jealous lovin'll make you crazy
If you can't find your goodness
Cause you've lost your heart

Hey!  That's ME Joni's on about!

Who'd a thunk it?  (Just for grins 'n' giggles... google "and me the chirp."  Why am I not Numero Uno?)

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Well I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damn depressed
That I set my sights on Monday and I got myself undressed
I ain't ready for the altar but I do agree there's times
When a woman sure can be a friend of mine

We descend into pop dregs for this one.  Still and even, the tune does call up some superlative memories.  Pop is good like that, innit?  "Sister Golden Hair Surprise," indeed. 

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Time for some ol' standards and a trip down Memory Lane...

The inimitable Julie London, with the definitive version of this ol' chestnut.  I was surprised to see how many "new" artists have covered this tune when I googled it, including one Justin Beeble (or sumthin' like that).  Did I go there?  Not only no, but HELL NO.  I don't wanna hear my favorite tunes ruined by prepubescent heart-throbs, thankyaverymuch.

Speakin' of Memory Lane... did all y'all know there's a famous motel thereabouts?

You're just a memory of a love
That used to be
You're just a memory of a love
That used to mean so much to me

It's on the ocean, I guess you know it well...

―:☺:― 

We're just in from running our errands, which included a one-hundred-plus-Yankee Dollar commissary run.  I didn't go overboard or anything, it was just the usual stuff.  Can you really tell me we're NOT laboring under inflation?  I checked my Quicken entries after logging today's transactions and my previous high expenditure for groceries was just over $90.00, and that was a MAJOR food run.  I know coz I'm kinda anal-obsessive about logging my transactions.

Dang.

Beer and cigars?  Or food?  I need to burn more incense on the altar and pray to The Deities At Hand that I don't have to make that decision... anytime soon, anyhoo.

Beer me!

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

So there I was, sitting on the verandah, deep into today's WSJ, puffing occasionally on my second cigar of the day and enjoying my second beer when Pandora decides to bring this ol' chestnut around ...

...which stopped me dead in my tracks.  I shut the Kindle, sang along, and fell back into that same, oh-so-lovely daydream that happens EVERY time I hear this song.  

Amie what you wanna do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer
Longer if I do

I knew an Am(ie)y once upon a time... well over 30 years ago... in both a space and time that's long ago and far away.  "My" Amy was a friend of a friend who came to Westby, Montana to visit and stayed at my place for the duration of her visit, mainly because the mutual friend Amy came to see was a single female airperson who lived in the barracks and I had a pretty nice house with a comfy couch.  Amy slept on that couch the first night she was in Westby but never again after that.  Strange how that sorta thing happens...

Amy's visit in Westby lasted only a week or perhaps a little longer, but what a week that was!  The girl was prolly 20 years of age at that time and in her prime; I was three years on the wrong side of 30 but that was close enough for gub'mint work.  I wound up taking a few days of unplanned leave just to spend as much time with this woman as I possibly could before she vanished into my past.  That was a GOOD decision, Gentle Reader.

Young Amy and I corresponded for a time after she returned to Ohio but nothing more happened after that; our communication ceased after a while.  Well, nothing happened except for The Second Mrs. Pennington finding Amy's letters to me shortly after TSMP and I married... and she subsequently burned them (along with all the other letters I'd received from former lovers), without my permission.   Which is QUITE another story and one that still pisses me off when I think about it, even after all these years.

The image isn't the Amy I knew (I found it in a generic Google search for "dark eyed beauty"), but it's close.

Finally!

As in: someone finally found the switch and turned that infernal wind machine OFF.  We're just in from the day's errands and today is as pretty a day as we've seen in these parts in a month or at least it feels that way.  Note:

It goes without sayin' that we WILL be taking today's Happy Hour outdoors on the verandah.  And we've decided to kick off gin & tonic season in honor of this perfect day.  Ain't this purty!

Our soundtrack today?  Why... the Gin Blossoms, of course.

Full disclosure:  we are entirely free of gin blossoms, in the medical sense.  As of this moment, anyhoo... there bein' no guarantees on the future.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Gentle Reader, the Great Outdoors (heh) is calling.

Just Thinkin'

We're stayin' in today, mainly coz we were cautioned to avoid splashing water in our recently repaired eye for a day or two.  Given that I'm a klutz of the highest order I've decided to skip today's shower just to make SURE I don't get water in my eye.  That's the safest way to be absolutely certain, yanno?  Goin' without my daily shower pains me but I'm sure it would pain those around me even more...

The first order of bid'niz tomorrow will be to go shopping for a pair... or pairs, plural... of sunglasses, something I've had no need of doin' for the past 54 years or so.  I've opted at various times to buy separate prescription sunglasses or those pricey and mostly ineffective "transition" lenses.  Goin' that route necessarily limited my options, but now?  The whole wide wonderful world of sunglasses is open to me...

I spent some time today on Ray-Ban's web site and was shocked to see just how very proud they are of their product line.  I mean, waaay-proud!  Example:

OK, they're iconic, and all that... ("I can see you/ Your brown skin shinin' in the sun/ Ya got that hair slicked back and those/ Wayfarers on") but I'm kinda-sorta cheap.  And I'm not about to put a Deadhead sticker on my non-existent Cadillac, seein' as how those things seem to go hand in hand.

There may be an answer or a cheaper alternative, at the very least.  SN1 tells me the clothing sales store out at the base sells USAF gub'mint issue aviator sunglasses for cheap... like 50 Yankee Dollars, or so.  That may be the way to go coz those things are ALWAYS in style... an essential element of the classic male look since WW II.

In the meantime... let's sing along with Mr. Henley:

And put those Wayfarers on, Bay-bee.

Broadening Our Horizons XIX

I could mine this vein from now until the day I die and prolly WILL... for as the unnamed sage so wisely noted: "So many beers, so lil time."  Today it's a Leinenkugel Sunset Wheat...

This weissbier is sweeter than most and that's not an entirely bad thing.  The characteristic that leaps out at you as you bring the glass to your lips is its nose, most commonly described by the readers at Beer Advocate as reminiscent of Froot Loops or Fruity Pebbles.  That might be off-putting to some beer drinkers but it pleases me... today.  Tomorrow might be an entirely different story.

Today's cigar is a Drew Estate Tabac Especial Red Eye, which is rapidly becoming the cigar of choice here at El Casa Móvil De Pennington.  Well, one of the cigars of choice, anyhoo.  We're still quite partial to the Acid Deep Dish.  

Speaking of...  I bought myself a box of Deep Dishes for Christmas and that box remains largely untouched, as I'm engaged in a lil experiment.  I read somewhere that aging a cigar has much the same effect as aging fine wine... as in "the older, the better."  That presupposes you keep the cigars properly humidified, of course, which I'm doing.  So, we pulled one of the now three-month old Deep Dishes out of the humidor yesterday, fired it up, and I couldn't tell if it was any better or not.  There may be two things in play here: (1) I haven't given the cigars enough time to age properly or (2) I just don't have an educated palate.  As far as (1) goes... I'm not sure if I have the will power to let the cigars age for a year or more.  And there ain't no fixin' (2).  It is what it is.

―:☺:―

We're taking today's Happy Hour indoors as it's not a nice day outside.  What the hell happened to Spring, anyway?  I suppose I shouldn't bitch, as some of you Gentle Readers have had snow in the last day or three.  That said, the recent good weather (read as: temps in the 80s) left me somewhat spoiled and not very tolerant of our 51 degree temperature, as we speak.  We'll be back to normal in a day or two, though.

―:☺:―

Here's my next musical purchase:

From one of the reviews at Amazon:

Alligator Records celebrates its 40th anniversary in 2011 with the release of The Alligator Records 40th Anniversary Collection. The 2-CD set clearly lays out Iglauer's wide-ranging blues vision. From the ragged glory of Hound Dog Taylor to the raw Chicago blues of Koko Taylor, Son Seals, Lil' Ed & The Blues Imperials, Lonnie Brooks and Eddy Clearwater to the harmonica workouts of Charlie Musselwhite, William Clarke, James Cotton and Rick Estrin to the guitar pyrotechnics of Guitar Shorty, Albert Collins, Johnny Winter, Michael "Iron Man" Burks and Tinsley Ellis to the front porch roots-rock of JJ Grey & Mofro to the gospel soul of Mavis Staples, the one constant is Alligator's dedication to releasing what has been dubbed "Genuine Houserockin' Music."

From the early days of recording only Chicago blues artists to the addition of national and international artists to the label's commitment to younger roots acts who are creating new blues for a new millennium, Alligator continues to forge ahead. Even after 40 years, Alligator is committed to discovering great new talent, proving that the passion, soul and redemptive power of blues and roots music is alive, well and genuine, capable of rocking the house for many more years to come. 

Now is that right up our alley or WHAT?  You should peruse the track list at Amazon, Gentle Reader, to see why I'm so enthused.