A few hits to fill in the blanks

This was a good little record by the Fine Young Cannibals back in 1989. It was a year I do not remember too well. Too much drinking, a few too many drugs and general unhappiness/uncertainty. At the end of the year we moved to Ohio, leaving the alcoholic comfort zone of lousy pay for the mystery of a big city. If I stayed on I would not have survived. The next decade was a combination of being broken down and breaking myself. Bad career decisions were made, one after the other. A marriage fell apart. The next decade seemed to repeat itself with financial strain replacing the alcohol. These days the stressors are different but profound and worrisome. I've found it harder to reach my son when the show in his head is greater than that around him, or if he's in pain. It's hard for him to tell us that, and it weighs heavy.

Then this song becomes the show in my head -

"Oh I know that times are bad
and they make you want to cry
Don't be sad, we'll get by"

All I can say is, maybe.

When the fill level reaches the monk's feet, it's time for a new bottle.

With a great meal at Meat and Potatoes in Pittsburgh in July, my wife had an incredible Sloe Gin Fizz. For the last couple of months I have been trying to recreate it but the quality of sloe gin available in my area is poor. Low end brands like McCormick's and Mohawk do not come close to the quality of the imported sloe gin used in that cocktail. Fee Brother Sloe Gin Syrup combined with gin made an interesting drink but it was not close to the high standards of the original beverage.



Plymouth Sloe Gin is not available in Ohio so we had to wait until a trip to Buffalo, where I finally tracked it down. It's about three times what you pay for the cheap stuff, but in this case the price is equal to the quality. It makes a great drink and I'm looking forward to trying it in other cocktails or with some inexpensive sparkling wine. Plymouth also makes an outstanding gin, it's a fine distillery that's been operating since 1793.



Now to find a decent cocktail shaker as I'm not keen on the one we currently have. I'll know it when I see it.

Tripping in the Steel City

Life goes on. After finding out my friend Mike died on Thursday night, with a heavier heart we headed to Pittsburgh for a planned well in advance weekend.

It's a very easy drive from Columbus. A trip that is a bit quicker now that the speed limit on Ohio highways is up to 70 miles per hour. If I had not missed an exit in the strands of spaghetti roads that is downtown Pittsburgh, we would have made the hotel in about two and half hours.

The hotel was in an odd area, just north of downtown, with high rise public housing across the street. There were no problems though, other than one guy asking for change on the corner, like that's never happened in Columbus.

The room was small, but cozy. The shower was quite small, but there was plenty of hot water. The room itself was rather noisy as we found out at 1:30AM when the room upstairs from us was having sexy time. The iron framed bed was rather old and loose in construction and did a lot of bouncing and banging. I hope there were two people up there.

The level of service at this hotel was excellent. There was a free shuttle that would take you anywhere within the city. One of the drivers was quite knowledgeable and friendly as he took us to a restaurant before the baseball game.

There were a number of recommendations for Meat and Potatoes on the Columbus Underground messageboard, so I made reservations a couple of weeks in advance. There was a crowd of people waiting for the five o'clock opening. Our names were called right after opening and we were taken to our seats as the bar instantly filled up.

Extensive cocktail menu, the drinks were excellent. My wife had a slow gin fizz with authentic Plymouth Sloe Gin. The cheery with her drink she said was the best ever. It was an amaro cherry from Italy, we were told.

My mussels came, it was an entire dish filled with them. Not many tiny ones either, all rather substantial. The only minus was the fries, I thought they would be cut thicker but while there were plenty, they were rather tiny.

I had a few bites of my wife's pannacotta dessert, which was light and tasty. I ordered an Oban off their whiskey list. It was pricey, but what the heck. It came in a Glencairn glass which is always a touch of class. What shocked me was the amount of whiskey in the glass. I know what an ounce and a half in a Glencairn glass looks like, this was about double that. That impressed me, and I was not driving!

The stadium was a short walk from the restaurant. Very impressed the city closes off the Roberto Clemente Bridge to cars and lets pedestrians have the whole thing.



The experience outside the stadium is impressive. Fans tailgate, they play whiffle ball in the parking lots along with cooking out and drinking. I respect Pirate Fan.



In addition to the Clemente statue, there is one of Honus Wagner, Bill Mazeroski and Willie Stargell. Two tipsy Pirate fans offered to take a picture of my wife and I with it, but seemed to be so drunk they could not press the button on a digital camera. It was the thought that counted.

A friend of ours gave us his tickets. His seats are incredible.



PNC Park is stunning even without the amazing views of the Pittsburgh skyline. There does not seem to be a bad seat in the house.

We saw Jeremy Hefner pitch for the Mets. He made one bad pitch to Alcarez and the visitors were down 2-0. They fought back to tie it up and send the game into extra innings. We left after the tenth and got back in time to see the Pirates win in the bottom of the eleventh watching in the hotel bar. That's how close things are in Pittsburgh.

The hotel breakfast was ok, not great, but the courtyard is pretty. We asked the driver to take us to the Fred Rogers statue.



Mister Rogers Neighborhood was filmed in Pittsburgh.

The riverfront is quite scenic.



We walked back to the hotel to rest for a bit before meeting a friend of mine at a coffee shop and then hit a deli next door. Down the street is a theater that may or may not be renovated. It was once a porno house.



After saying goodbye we rested up, had some dinner at a mediocre pub then headed to Stage AE for the Belle and Sebastian show. We met an old live journal friend of ours who was also going to the show. Before he showed up, my wife and I rated the attendees on the amount of tweeness in their clothing. The winner was a girl in front of us, who had birds all over her dress.

The venue is very similar to the LC in Columbus, it may be a bit steeper. Yo La Tengo opened and did not impress me much. They even had spinal tap guitar moments as Kaplan flung his guitar around, causing the annoying feedback. He then put his guitar down while it was still sustaining and picked up another guitar to make his noise.

Belle and Sebastian were impressive. It was fun to see my wife finally see a whole show from a band she loves.



Their back catalogue is large and they were digging out some nuggets from the first record. Stuart Murdoch made reference to the baseball game happening next door by playing Take Me Out To the Ballgame.



Fireworks were happening after the baseball game while the band was playing.



The band did not hear it as they were playing, but could smell the gunpowder. After the fireworks were over, the band's string section did a few snippets from the 1812 Overture, which was quite sweet.

It was worth the trip. A weekend we needed as we prepare for the rest of the summer. I've started 42 days in which I will be in the hospital with my son as he is in intensive in-patient feeding therapy or at work.

But Pittsburgh though, I'm not sure if it's a grass is greener thing, but I like the vibe of the place and can't wait to go back.

What a Local

There are a lot of bars in Glasgow and it's not hard finding a good one. I'd been looking through travel guides and online sources to see if there were some interesting ones I missed.



A number of sites recommended The Pot Still so I figured it would get a shot. When I walked in a dog was staring at me. It was not causing any trouble, other than getting behind the bar, then gently sent off by the bartender.

This was what I saw.



I am not sure I have ever seen this type of whiskey collection in a bar before. I said it would take awhile before making my first choice. Eventually selected the malt of the month, a Glen Garioch. A tasty highland malt from one of the oldest distilleries in the country.

The bartender knows his malts. Very friendly and easily answers questions.

When it came time for my second, I asked about a trio of whiskeys on a shelf. He brought them down to show me.



Kilchoman is the first distillery to be built on Islay in 124 years. It was established in 2005, which means they do not even have a 12 year old whiskey to sell. The one I tried was 100% Islay made, from the malt grown, to the malting process. An estate grown whiskey. I had found my wheelhouse on the second try, and the drink was fantastic. All the peat, malt and smoke in fantastic balance. Pricey, but I was on vacation and not spending $70 for a bottle.

Said my goodbyes, but told them I'd be back.

I returned on Wednesday, did not order the 1953 from a distillery I do not remember that went for 55 pounds a shot, but a modest one.



Took a seat, read the papers. Ordered a Jura Prophecy and got into a conversation with a couple of locals.

"You are American?"

"Yes."

"Where are you from?"

"Columbus."

"Ah, Jack Nicklaus country."

And we talked about America. They loved Myrtle Beach, would live there but hated our health care system.

No one brought up Thatcher.

The Pot Still kept me from another bar I love, The Horseshoe. That collection of malts is outstanding, and will bring me there again.

Our intentions were good

To get out of the house for a little while, and get off the computers for a bit I suggested to my wife that we take a walk around the Scioto Mile today.



It was a spot chilly, about twenty degrees, but there was also a stiff breeze in our faces.



My wife was struggling with her scarf, and the elements. I was not doing very well in the wind either.



Columbus was losing its color in the grey chill.



A cold train made its way through downtown. It shivered over the tracks.



We cut our walk short more than halfway through.



We made the right decision crossing over the Town Street bridge.



Because Milestone 229 was our original, final destination.



It's a good place to have a pre-grocery shopping drink, in any weather.

Saturday goings

Ran a few errands today and while driving I saw the price of gas at one station go from $3.10 a gallon to $3.45, within about two hours. This is all Obama's fault, right?

Did a little thrifting, which is always hit or miss for me. Found a couple of interesting things amidst the throngs of people.

This is one of my favorite alcohol advertising icons, and I found a little wooden plaque of it that is now on the dining room wall.



I have no idea why I bought this, but I have to wonder what the heck it was doing on the rack at a thrift store in Whitehall. It cost three bucks, and I could not pass it up.



I mean, who does not need a 2004 Lazio F.C home shirt? Take the Puma logo off, and that is what I now own.

What I'm Drinking - Episode 23

What I'm drinking - Episode 17

Scioto Mile Loop Photo Dump

Tonight, to get out of the house, my wife and I took a walk along The Scioto Mile. It was where the Arts Festival was last weekend. Everything had cleared out, and there was plenty of room to stretch out and enjoy the charms of a lovely evening in Columbus.

Took these pictures with my iPod.

















My wife called these goose steps.









In the center of the picture, there a young lady in magenta. My wife suspects she's going through Quinceanera.







Columbus was looking good tonight.

















The reward? A nice glass of sangria at the end of a walk.

The Fifth Job

"This is what I remember, and how I remember it." Mike Doughty


It was a business recently purchased by the owner, S., who had managed the store for years. One of the other employees, C., had a financial stake in the business as well. It was a larger shop, with a beer cooler you could park a car in. Another major draw to the shop was an extensive selection of beer and wine making equipment and supplies. Home brewing was an up and coming hobby in the spring of 1994, and there were only two places in the city that had any selection.

I had a lot to learn about the process, eventually I would make my own beer and wine, to mixed results, but that is another entry for another month.

About a week after I started, I was playing in a softball league in Berliner Park. From my position in right field, I was closing in on a pop fly when I ran into a hole in the grass, my glove defended, the ball did not and hit me square in the right cheek. Really messed up my face and not the best way to introduce myself to new bosses and customers.

A few months into my employment, there was an opportunity to move the business from a dying strip center east of Worthington to an exciting, high traffic storefront in Grandview Heights.

This is the location of where the store used to be, before the move. The Domino's has not changed it's spot in the center.



I'm guessing the business was successful enough so that there was enough money to cover the expense of the move. It took a few months, a bit of pressure and moving related stressors that were typical for a major upheaval. The windows of the new place were papered over in preparation for the opening.

One night, after an afternoon of heavy lifting and dirty work, S. decided it was time to open the doors. He went to the restroom and came back cleaned up and in a suit, leaving C. and I in disheveled work clothes, unable to change into something decent. This was the start of the down turn.

In the new space, there was not as much room for the home brewing supplies, and regulars quickly started noticing. Plus, S. was not purchasing the supplies we needed for even basic starter kits. The profit margin on this stuff was excellent, but money was going into purchasing some very unexciting wine.

When he bought cases of mediocre and pricey French Burgundies, stacked them by the cash register and expected C. & I to sell them without even trying them, something was up. This was a lot of money sitting on the floor, not turning over, while we were turning away home brewers. It was getting depressing to send people away. Then the paychecks started being late.

Cash flow was tight with any accumulated reserves going toward the move, crappy wine and a higher rent. The home brew side of the business was slowing down because there was little product on the shelves, and the wine business was not where it should have been with the product mix going toward higher end wines that were not selling. We probably had one of the better beer selections in the city, but there is not much profit in retail sales of beer. There was also a small wine bar that was breaking even at best.

The bar was a plus, a good way for groups of customers to come in and try new beer along with us. They even brought some of their own rare ones for everyone to try. Ok, that was not legal, but it happened. This was a time when high alcohol beer was not available in Ohio. Our good customers traveled, and they generously shared their purchases. Often. There were also wine tasting and classes that brought in customers. We partnered with the restaurant next door for cooking classes, which should have brought in even more customers.

The constant saying no to people who wanted to get involved in home brewing, the late checks, did not help my attitude. I could have done better, but once again found myself in a situation where I thought I had nowhere else to go.

Eventually the late paychecks and lack of input drove C. out, along with his lost investment in the business. A good guy, T., who had worked in the old location helped us out part time. He was an artist, a woodworker, who used to carve in the store to keep his brain occupied. T. also was a great home brewer who made a tangerine mead that is one of the best beverages I've ever had. He also enjoyed blending wines, especially after tastings when small amounts of wine were left in the bottle he'd find the positive elements and put them together. Another time C. brought an old bottle of wine from his father's basement as well as an extraordinary bottle of Beringer Reserve Cabernet. The old wine we wanted to like, but it was past it's prime. I had a glass of the old wine and dropped a sip of the Beringer Cab into it. The old wine blew up in flavor like a helium balloon. We'd have been doing back flips down Grandview Avenue if that's how the wine was out of the bottle.

In other words, there was some fun there. My wine education got more extensive. I paid attention when S. taught wine classes.

The situation leveled a bit after C. left but the business could not grow. The home brewing side was not improving. Christmas of 1996 had a number of people shut out of supplies and starter kits S. had promised. It was getting grim. There was too much drinking done at work, and none of it was helping at home.

S. was alienating sales representatives, a number of them requested they no longer sell to the shop because of S, and more importantly, diminishing commissions. A couple of them had a pool going about when the store would close.

Another series of the Introduction to Wine Course had started. It was a six week class and a financial commitment. The first week was over, and right before week two S's wife A. had some horrible news. There was an attempt at self harm.

Friends of S. gathered in the temporarily closed shop to look at the finances. Things were very bad. Debt, unpaid taxes, late bills. Quite the mess. S. was not going to be around for awhile. A. stepped up. T's hours increased. I tried getting merchandise in. Called everyone in the wine class, told them S. was ill and unable to teach the class, said I'd teach the class but would offer them a refund. No one asked for their money back, which was how I taught an introduction to wine class, and did it rather well under unfavorable circumstances. I even enjoyed it.

There were attempts to increase business through a massive in store tasting I organized. The wine reps came through with their time and samples. We had about 100 everyday and reasonably priced wines to taste at a fixed price. A good crowd came in. The business was still hanging on, but this was not going to work.

Another class was set to start, and S. was going to teach it. I do not remember if it was the first class, or one of the later ones, but he came in barely on time, leaving me to set up, taught the class and left me to do all the clean up without any help or thanks. He was almost out the door when I laid into him.

A few years of pent up frustration and anger were released, he knew it and let me finish. I said a couple of things I would have liked to take back, a few things I'm not proud of, but it was all out in the open. S. was ill, very much so, in hindsight I realize that even more but I was fed up of running a store did not have my name on it. I told him he was in a position where it was impossible for him to remain open and impossible to shut down. In a sick stroke of bravado I said I'd try to buy him out. Enter K.

K. was a person I met through a wine tasting group. He liked wine and making money. We talked about buying the shop and claimed to have the resources to accomplish this. We spoke to the landlord, who was impressed with our plan. The Landlord found us someone to broker the deal with S. All was going very well. I thought a deal was in place as did our broker and S.

At the last minute K. backed out of the deal. He gave the broker, S. and myself three different reasons as to why he was pulling out. K. and I have not spoken since. There was no backup plan.

Maybe he was not impressed with my commitment. Maybe he was not impressed with my stability, I still was drinking rather heavily during this period. Maybe it was something else, but a few days later I told A. & S. that I could not take it anymore and quit. I got tired of saying no to customers over and over, it really fucks you up seeing them walk out empty handed when any normally run business would have the merchandise.

I'm not sure what happened to the store next. S. was pretty ticked at me for leaving so quickly, along with discarding a "tab" I chalked up to unpaid vacation and combat pay. Again, something I'm not particularly proud of, but they happened. Also the night before I left, T. gave me one of his pieces that I watched him carve from a block of cherry.



T. remained, sided with me whenever S. whined about my actions. Life went on there until the owner of the restaurant next door bought what was left of the business. It's been there for almost fifteen years.



I've seen S. once since, and he tried to apologize. I halfheartedly accepted it. A. I ran into a couple of years ago at a library poetry reading. She snubbed me. C. and T. I still see on friendly terms from time to time. The store and the way it was run helped ruin lives, careers and eventually three marriages. It did get me out of the wine business for good.