Tuesday, May 28, 2013
...or at least his arteries. A UK website devoted exclusively to the subset of the classic English Breakfast known as the Fry Up. The absence of American-style bacon is a flaw, but forgivable.
Also this, Taco Bell's signature breakfast item; sausage and eggs, in a waffle. Proves that food can be NSFW.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
Thursday, May 16, 2013
I've been in Maine only a few weeks a year since about 1980, and it seems I've missed a few things. Like the inexorable rise of Allen's Coffee Brandy, which for the past twenty years has been the best-selling alchoholic beverage in the state, and nowhere else. My cousin Jim mentioned the phenomenon in passing, and then I started noticing it everywhere, like at the convenience store attached to the local gas station in rural Poland.
Allen's turned up again in the novel I was reading on the plane home, Maine-author Elizabeth Hand's excellent "Generation Loss." To wit:
Generation Loss: A Novel (Hand, Elizabeth)
- Your Highlight on Page 96 | Location 1812-1820 | Added on Wednesday, May 8, 2013 9:27:05 PM
“What’s with all the coffee brandy?” I asked. “Looks like Suze is stockpiling the stuff.”
“That’s Allen’s Coffee Brandy, the Maine drug of choice. It’s lethal—70 proof. That’s how a lot of people up here get their Vitamin D—they mix it with milk and get an extra buzz from the caffeine. Kills more people than heroin does.”
"I’m talking about guys who live in old school buses and survive on blocks of government cheese.”
“And Allen’s Coffee Brandy.”
“And Allen’s Coffee Brandy,” Gryffin agreed. “Old Toby, now, he’s just a few steps ahead of them—he lives on rum and Moxie."
Also this, from a Maine-based food blog, uniting all the crucial DownEast food items. Key line: "I don’t think I’ve ever been to a party in a gravel pit where there hasn’t been at least one handle of Allen’s Coffee Brandy being poured into cartons of milk."
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Saturday, May 4, 2013
The poem below was written more than two years ago. The copy of The Aurorean in which it was published arrive in my mail Thursday, May 2nd. Vicki drew her last breath about 9 AM Monday, April 29th as I sat by her bed, holding her hand.
"In Lieu of Flowers"
I didn't read Sunday obituaries
beyond a glance for names,
avoiding the ages of demise
but the eyes stray.
The phrase "In lieu of flowers"
being frequent, pleases:
positivity facing the
Suddenly the question intrudes:
what would I say at
the loss of my partner
of sixty-six years?
In lieu of flowers — let them grow.
If you find a bug
carry it carefully outside
and let it go —
as she often did:
that's what I'd say.