OPaD: Absinthe-It burns.
Two days ago, absinthe became legal in the US. We drank it and discovered that:
A) no, there are no green fairies
B) damn, it burns.
The proper process for preparing absinthe involves dipping a sugar cube into the drink, then lighting it on fire to caramelize the sugar, and finally, dissolving it with water into the absinthe (the glass on the left has been prepared and the one on the right was straight out of the bottle). So there’s burning in the set up. There’s also burning as it scorches a path down your throat and into your stomach. A shot of absinthe leaves a lasting impression.
We had Lucid, an absinthe developed by T.A. Breaux, one of the longtime US absinthe supporters. His concoction stays true to historical production by including wormwood, the ingredient that supposedly induces hallucination, artistic inspiration or homicidal mania. And that’s exactly why we wanted to drink it. No one got crazy, but the mystique of absinthe’s dangers were enough to make taking a shot far more exciting.
Albert Maignan’s “Green Muse” (1895)
OPaD: Best bar in America
Nye’s Polonaise. As determined by Esquire magazine and everyone who knows what’s up. The woman in the middle plays the piano for karaoke and the woman on the right is singing. This is only the beginning of what makes Nye’s awesome; the people are a blend of regulars from the nearby union local, college kids, Nordeasters, hipsters, and polka dancers. The waitstaff has been serving drinks for eons and they still call you honey and touch your arm when they’re trying to get your attention. They’re not the only things brought forth from years past, either. The booths are made of sparkly gold plastic, and the light fixtures look like they came straight out of the Brady’s house.
Most importantly, Nye’s is a house of great memories. Katie and I once ambushed a Singaporean friend with impromptu polka “lessons;” Phil drunkenly sang some sappy love song to me while we were still in the woo phase; and the heartiest drinkers from work squished into the bar like it was traincar after a raucous summer party. It’s great for everyone because Nye’s is a place without rigidity-you can be who you are and they’ll pour your beer just like the next guy’s.
OPaD: Space
This one’s a little old-forgot to upload from the space150 party a few weeks ago.
OPaD: How did that get there?
Somehow, this windshield wiper ended up in Gail’s hand. Not related at all to the fact that she was pounding it with an ice scraper.
OPaD: Christmas Dinner
Not kidding: this dog was given a full Christmas dinner. Jello, potatoes, meat, beans, even wild rice!
OPaD: “this seems like it would be a picturesque picture”
I try to avoid the trap of photos that look like they should be photos. But today I slipped. It just seemed like I should take a shot of the snowy trees and red mailbox bows. Whoops.
OPaD: Just give ‘er some gas!
We got over 10 inches of snow this day. Mom, dad and I drove home from Minneapolis and were greeted with an impassable driveway when we arrived. Dad was in full strategy mode for the final 30 miles, and had devised a plan wherein I would jump out of the backseat and take over driving after dropping dad at the end of the driveway when we got home. I would then drive around for a half hour, giving dad enough time to run in the house, don his snow suit, fire up the bobcat and plow a trail for the car to get into the garage. After dad layed out his plan, I suggested that we just gun it and see how far we could make it before getting stuck. For some reason, dad agreed to give it a try. While he did drive back and forth in the intersection about 10 times to pack down a runway, I’ll give dad credit for just stomping on the gas and charging in. We had to abandon the car about five feet into the driveway-and then spend about an hour and a half digging out the next day.
