Ernie's Hooch Quest

Monday, Feb. 08, 2010 - 12:40 a.m.

The Polar explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton brought a bunch of booze with him on one of his trips.

That trip didn't quite pan out like everybody had hoped, and the booze has been sitting undisturbed but for ice under the old wooden shack that served as his living quarters through a little over one hundred Antarctic winters and summers. It's being retrieved, and the contents of the surviving bottles are going to be analyzed to see if the old recipes can be gleaned and recreated.

Right now, I can't think of a more interesting way to utilize Earthbound expedition resources at present.

Lots of luck.

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Well, I've done it.

I managed to get through an entire season of NFL without laying eyetracks on any of their broadcasts for any discriminant length of time whatsoever, meaning I saw things flip past when I changed channels, but that's it.

However, I'm really still very happy to hear about the Nawlins Saints.

Good job.

And this exercise didn't kill me. At some points in my life, I would have thought otherwise, because I have been a football fan since elementary school -- but it was kind of interesting not to have that particular past-time eating big holes in my weekends.

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Basically, I had more important things to do.

Such as -- yesterday Alan and I did the bulk of work on a song I originally wrote, and his input was significant enough that we'll go ahead and list it as written by Brownlee/McLaughlin, like we do with a lot of his original work.

I can't describe it. He made my music sound like I had always wanted it to. He took this sort of plaintive piano dirge, transfered it to guitar, and sped it up by about thirty percent. It's a vast improvement.

Also, Alan's wife Deanna set a plate for me and I had a krautburger for dinner with the family. This meal was absolutely excellent.

However, earlier, the nine year old daughter had said to me "GUESS what we're HAVING for DINNER!" So, honoring her request, I looked right at her and said "A bucket of mice."

The look on the kiddo's face was legendary.

"Mice? No!" she said. "We're having KRAUTBURGERS.

But I persisted just a little. "Well, you know, a bucket of mice would be nice and bite sized and crunchy. But I guess that would probably taste bad, huh?" and the kiddo nodded.

"I'm not a very good guesser, huh." I said. "NO, you're NOT," she said in all honestly.

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Since I can't top that, I'll wish you a good Monday.

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