Saturday, May 3
For those of you anxiously awaiting my Kentucky Derby pick...I am going with Indian Express. I am likely to be wrong, but in case I am right, I am not going to be so foolish as Stu and reveal my logic to the masses.
The winner of yesterday's Kentucky Oaks was Bird Town.
It's Derby Day! Have a mint julep and play the ponies.
Here is our mint julep recipe, adapted from Cocktail: A Drinks Bible for the 21st Century by Paul Harrington and Laura Moorhead. [Now that's a Harrington I can get behind! - ed.]
3 oz Bourbon (we use Maker's Mark exclusively)
6 sprigs fresh mint (1/4 of one of those hard plastic packages from the grocery store)
1-2 oz simple syrup (make by combining equal amounts of water and sugar and bring to a boil)
Combine all ingredients in individual pint glasses. Muddle, muddle, muddle until the mint is well bruised (about a minute). Let steep for another 2-3 minutes. Strain into a chilled mint julep cup filled with shaved ice. Garnish with a small mint sprig.
Friday, May 2
I don't know what you mean by "he said, she said". All I said was it was bad-ass, which, given the nature of a carrier landing (underscored by the fact that the pilot caught the #4 wire, meaing he came within an ace of having to touch and go), is indisputable. That the photo-op went well for GWB also seems beyond debate.
I myself prefer my sitting presidents (or former for that matter) to wear suits or the occasional tuxedo (consider the alternatives: here, here, and here), at least on the job. But the carrier landing was intended at best secondarily for my benefit. It is best considered as a gesture intended for, and probably only truly appreciated by, those in the military. To ignore this motivation is to severely misunderestimate GWB.
Oh no...here is where we get into the "he said, she said" stuff, but here goes.
I thought that the President's trip to the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln was completely over the top, and not in a good way. I am glad that he was able to live out his fly-boy fantasy of landing on a carrier deck. Bonus points were awarded for the: cast of thousands, elaborate stage production, and costuming. I am sure that these pictures will look fabulous in next year's campaign literature! The boys at the RNC must be thrilled.
See Joe Conason's Journal on Salon.com for more on the president's overnight adventure.
If, like me, you don't know anything about horseracing, the best way to pick a horse for the Derby is using the process of elimination:
1) First, throw out any name that you don't know what the hell it's supposed to mean (and can't be bothered to learn). This year, that's Brancusi (30-1), Buddy Gil (8-1), and Funny Cide(15-1).
2) Next get rid of all the "hip" names. These are readily identifiable by their "urban" spellings: Supah Blitz (50-1), Atswhatimtalknbout (12-1), Offlee Wild (30-1), Outta Here (50-1).
3) Ten Most Wanted (6-1) goes next. Why would you name one horse after ten people or things?
4) Peace Rules (8-1), Ten Cents a Shine (50-1), and especially Domestic Dispute (30-1) are too obivously catering to the infield demographic. A Derby winner needs a more patrician name.
5) Looks like Sir Cherokee was scratched, so we might as well toss Indian Express (12-1) at the same time.
6) Picking a heavy favorite is lame, especially when you only stand to gain $1.20 for every dollar bet, as in the case of Empire Maker (6-5). What a gyp.
So now we're down to Eye of the Tiger (50-1), Scrimshaw (15-1), and Lone Star Sky (50-1). The first is kind of lame, conjuring up visions of Survivor. As an adopted Texan, I really liked Lone Star Sky until I saw his rider will be wearing those ghastly green and pink silks. So that leaves Scrimshaw, as in "That damn ape scrimshawed my beak again!" Scrimshaw it is.
You are mistaken, my dear. I am jubilous and full of elatement.
Thursday, May 1
It is almost Derby Day!
The 129th running of the Kentucky Derby is this Saturday. I am still working on my pick, but I am not going to go with the favorite Empire Maker. That would be too easy!
Ah yes...The Kentucky Derby: Mint Juleps, B-list Celebrities, "My Old Kentucky Home," and the sport of kings!
Don't forget tomorrow's running of the Kentucky Oaks the 3-year-old filly race.
Stu is uxorious, and lives in perfect thraldom!
Man, I thought I had a lot of time on my hands: oolong!
I used to agree with the Boss that rabbits make stupid pets, but now I'm not so sure. I know for damn sure our gato couldn't do that.
I'd have to say yes, the photo-op turned out pretty good. Another pic.
Jed Babbin has an interesting item in his NRO post today:
The president's speech will be given on the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln, a carrier that has been at sea for about nine months. Because Lincoln is still at sea, the prez--himself a former Air National Guard fighter jock--wants to do what every Air Force jet jock secretly wants to do: land on a carrier deck, and depart by catapult launch.That is bad-ass. As a GWB fan, I just hope the inevitable photo-op turns out better than this one.
Wednesday, April 30
I am also going to pinch one of these spectacular Utah girl names if I ever achieve my dream of one day joining a burlesque troupe:
Thanks. I think Iron Rod is the famous Mormon pornstar.
As promised...here are some possible nicknames for you, Stu, courtesy of some of the more creative parents in the state of Utah:
Kight Train (not to be outdone by Nightrain Lane)
Double Dang! Outlook India has robbed me of another personal nickname, Left-Of-Bush Brain Curry Man, and bestowed it upon Fareed Zakaria. How could he possibly be more deserving of that title than I am?
John Derbyshire posted his April Diary today, which contains a very "Derb" entry juxtaposing the Rick Santorum donnybrook and tax-time:
What about privacy? Funny: These same people who are tearing Rick Santorum limb from limb because he thinks the government might, under some circumstances, have the right to invade my sexual privacy, have no problem with that same government demanding to know about the new cesspool I installed last fall ("Statement 2 — Business Use of Home — Depreciation").
Around mid-April each year I find myself thinking that I wouldn't much mind having Suffolk County police officers break down my bedroom door now and then to make sure that I conduct my sex life from the approved firing position, if only the bureaucrats in Washington and Albany would get their noses out of my financial affairs. Possibly this is a middle-aged point of view.
Tuesday, April 29
I'll work on that. Look for our new nicknames to be posted shortly. I am going to select from one of these catchy Utah baby names!
Dang. Heidi, we'll have to get new nicknames now:
Surrender of Rashid, aka "Missile Man'' raises hopes for weapons search
He was one-half of Iraq's weapons couple, "the Missile Man" married to "Dr. Germ," a former general who human rights groups alleged helped gas Kurds...
Sunday, April 27
I finally put up my bat house (not bath house) today. It was the kind gift of my mother-in-law, for my birthday two years ago. Since we just got the house painted, I figured now would be a good time. According to the vendor, cleanairgardening.com,
The bat house will get best results if it is located 15 to 20 feet off the ground, facing the southeast. Bats tend to find bat houses mounted on poles much faster than those mounted on trees. You can also mount a bat house under the eaves of your house, provided it is high enough off the ground. So I put it up on the southeast corner of the house. The bat house itself is maybe half the size of a shoebox inside, but they say it will house up to 50 bats. They must really cram themselves in there. No bats yet, as of 7:34 PM, but I confidently await the imminent mosquito holocaust. Stay tuned.