Weekend Parting Shot: Flaccid Puppets and Other Musings

AP Photo/Nariman El-Mofty

Happy Friday, Gentle Readers,

I pray this missive finds you well. I shall be absent from these pages this coming week. Mrs. Brown and I are off on a working vacation; mostly, we will be in classes learning how to improve our business. That being said, there is a casino at our destination, and I have been studying the intricacies of baccarat. I hope to make a James Bond-style impression at the table, although I have had to promise my wife that I will walk away after I lose $100. So I should be done at the baccarat table in roughly five minutes. It's almost too much trouble to put on my tux and order a vodka martini, "shaken, not stirred." But I will anyway.

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Our business is of a medical nature, and last night, Mrs. Brown was talking with a potential client who only speaks Spanish. Since the only phrase I can cobble together from high school and college Spanish is "Hola. Mi nombre es Lincoln. ¿Dónde está la cerveza y el baño?" my wife was relying on a translation app. The app is not entirely accurate since Mrs. Brown looked up from the conversation and said, "I'm not sure how to respond. The translation says: 'Do you have treatments for the flaccid puppet?'" I replied, "Tell them, 'Yeah, vote for Trump.'”

Speaking of flaccid puppets, here is a blast from the past upon which I stumbled last night:

So, Joe Biden started the Civil Rights Movement? Who knew? According to Jesse Watters, no one at the church could recall Biden ever setting foot in the place. 

I hate to say it, but a part of me will miss him wandering around the halls of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue waiting for Matlock to start. Biden, that is, not Watters. Old Lunchpail Joe seems almost benign when you consider what could be coming.

In news of other abominations, I was at the grocery store and saw that Travis Kelce (yes, that one) and his brother now have their own cereal. Can Taylor-Ohs be far behind? 

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And then there is this, whatever this is supposed to be:

Oh, Sweet Meteor of Death, where art thou, and why do you tarry?

Wine recommendation 

Because at this point in the election, the die is pretty much cast. You need to celebrate the impending victory or numb yourself against the unthinkable potential alternative.

This time, we opted to try a Utah wine. I wish I had asked for the price before we decided to buy it since, in this case, buying local cost me $59 — caveat emptor. Meet the Perpetual Reserve Pinot Noir from Old Town Cellars in Park City.  

Yes, I was a bit of an idiot for paying 59 clams for a bottle of vino, but we were out and about for a special occasion. The wine is sourced from the Russian River area. It is an excellent wine, but it was not worth 60 bones, and I probably won't buy it again for that price. That's what I get for trying to fly under the radar as a conservative in Park City.

Price aside, this is a nice, smooth Pinot, good primarily for sipping, although its paring suggestions include grilled fish or a cheese platter. It is a bit on the bold side, but not aggressive, and a good drink for a cool autumn evening. You might try it with duck or goose or some savory dish. Expect your basic red fruits with just a little bit of spice and a hint of smoke. It is blended locally, and they did an excellent job since the various flavors work well together. Still, unless you have some money to burn, this is a good wine to have on hand for a special event.

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That's it for me. Have a good one, and I'll see you in a week.

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