Archive for January, 2011


Okay, it’s really 1-9-11, but I started this post on 1-1-11 and the heading is a one time opportunity.  A psychic told me a series of ones opened a portal to the Universe.  At the end of the hour, I found it actually opened the portal to my wallet.  But I am a believer, so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to post 1-1-11 with the hope a portal has been opened and someone out there in the Universe is reading this post.  The satellites floating around in space are getting old; this blog may be the only portal for Sigourney Weaver’s buddies to monitor the progress of the human race.   Speaking of progress…wow, now I have the entire Universe in which to make sharp left turns.  Hold on Pluto, we’re about to make a sharp left  turn and head toward the Rings of Saturn.  By the way, a replica of said planet (much smaller in size) can be purchased at Beyond the Sea.  Kaching!

In a recent post where I mentioned Whidbey Island Distillery and the remarkable Steve and Bev Heising, I had over 100 hits in a day.   Whoa!  I feel a theme coming on.  Notice how the  number 1 keeps showing up?   Flashback:  2001 A Space Oddessey – The opening scene with the  man apes pounding the ground with sticks, worshiping the monolithic stone.  Flash to present day – 2011 –  Man apes no longer worshiping the monolithic stone.  Down at Whidbey Island Distillery, man apes (I’m going to here about the man ape thing) worship Bubblin’ Betty.

I had the good fortune to start my New Year feasting on fine food, lively conversation and great music down at the Distillery.

Write to me and let me know if you recognize the sheet music.

With all that going on, I noticed quite a few of the men kept disappearing into “the room.”    When I was young, about the same time those man apes were pounding sticks, disappearing into a room or closet at a party meant something was going on…something only the cool kids at the party new about.   When I caught three of the coolest guys at Whidbey Island Distillery’s party trying to act nonchalant as they waited their “turn” to go into “the room,” I knew I had to work my way in.Once inside “the room,” I realized I may have made a mistake.  “The room,” looked more like a place where the geek squad would meet.  There were computers with graphs and white boards with equations and dates;  jars with samples…  Oh, hold on.  What’s this?   Dead center, among all the dweeb data, stood Bubblin’ Betty.  Bubblin’ Betty is every man’s dream.  Bubblin’ Betty is sleek, smooth, long necked with ample hips, nobs in all the right places; and her pheromones pump out a “come get me” scent.

Holy crap!   It took a few minutes, but it finally hit me.   Oh, yeah, I’ve been around the block a few times.  Curly, Larry and Moe weren’t interested in rocket scientist smart Steve Heising’s charts and graphs.  They could care less about Steve’s extensive and thorough dating of samples, his superior knowledge of the distilling process.   No, these guys were out for one thing only.  They kept going into “the room” to see if “Bubblin’ Betty” was puttin’ out.   Dejected, one after the other they came out of “the room,” their unused bottles in hand.  Turned out it  was a rumor.  Bubblin’ Betty is keeping the lid on her goods until the time is right.   And no amount of whining is going to change that.  Thanks Bev and Steve for another great party.

Just between you and me and it probably will be because no one reads this far into one of my posts…still, seriously, you can’t tell anyone.  Steve, with a bit of a dare in his smile, did ask me if I wanted to find out what 180 proof liquor tasted like.   My buddy Lew was in “the room” staring at Bubblin’ Betty at the time and, I’ll admit, there was that moment when peer pressure almost got the best of me.  Then I remembered the last time I acted on a dare I woke up wearing somebody else’s clothes and a pair of clown shoes.


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