I think you're right. I will have a drink.

During an evening of real joy (and some drinking) in our house last night I sat down and wrote the following post. I was planning on posting the recipe for the drink I'd assembled, which is why I took the pictures. I just wasn't planning on doing it while still under the influence of that drink.

Rather than clean it up I thought I'd share it in it's raw form.

____________________________________________________

As of Sunday Ms. Wormer and I will have been married 17 years. That's 16.9 years of wedded bliss to those of you keeping score.

For shits and gigglles I thought it would be fun if we shared a drink from the now defunct Vegas "Star Trek the Experience" called a "Warp Core Breach." Here's a pic of said drink:



We had a kickass time in Vegas a couple of years ago drinking those and flipping the Ferengi and Klingon guys that walked through Quark's bar shit, questioning their masculinity and some such.

but the Star Trek Experience is no more and finding the ingredients to this drink turned out to be more problematic than I thought it would.

(Berfore I type anymore I think it's a good idea to say that at this point I'm very, very drunk. A wise man said"never post drunk." I kicked the shit out of that man.)

Eventually I vfound the recipe for the drink at a website where the guy swore up and down he'd abartended at Quark's. Consider this my version of "cooking with Dr. Monkerstein."

Here's the ingredients:

White rum
Dark rum
Bacardi Limon
pice rum (cpt. morgans or some such) 151 rum- doesn matter. It's all good.
Dekuyper Lucious Rasberry Rush.
Dry ice.
orange juice, pineapple juice, cranberry juice.


Get a big bowl and mix 6 parts white rum, 4 parts limon rum, 2 parts dark rum, 2 parts spice rum and 2 parts spice rum. Then add two parts Dekuptypr rasberry rush and 1 part 151.

Then mix equal parts pineapple, cranberry and orange juice into the rink. Pour over ice and add a bit of dry ice so it bubbles.

(dry ice)



(Tghe reason I'm babbling incoherently at the momemnt. Finished drink.)

Anyhoo tomorrow we're going to dim sum to celebrate our anniversayr. I really do love her, you know.

Live long and prosper.
Dean

'Mr. Hand, will I pass this class?' Gee, Mr. Spicoli, I don't know!

If you could make a single book, film, or album required material to graduate from high school, what would it be?

Isn't that a tough question? I'm going to make it a little easier and limit it to one from each category.

Book: "The Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, Third Edition."

Film: "Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain"

Album: Monterey International Pop Festival Live, 1967.

How about you guys?

All I know is when we win a game, it's a team win. When we lose a game, it's a team loss.

When it comes to sports I'm a real sucker for stories about sportsmanship. It seems to be such a rare thing.

I'm on the board for the local youth tackle football league and the stuff I've seen at games has often forced me to question my faith in humanity.

So when I come across a story about sportsmanship like this one about a Dekalb, Illinois basketball team I can't help but get a little choked up.

The story is really worth reading but here's a summary: Johntell Franklin was one of the star players of the team they were playing was late to the game because he had just left the hospital where his mother had passed away from cervical cancer. Even though he was grieving he still wanted to play in the game, but under the rules his team would be assessed a technical foul if they put him in.

Out of sympathy the DeKalb coach asked the referee let let Franklin play to waive the technical, which the referee refused. The DeKalb coach then asked for a volunteer to shoot the two technical free throw shots. Senior Darius McNeal volunteered.

He went alone to the free throw line, dribbled the ball a couple of times, and looked at the rim.

His first attempt went about two feet, bouncing a couple of times as it rolled toward the end line. The second barely left his hand.

It didn't take long for the Milwaukee players to figure out what was going on.

They stood and turned toward the DeKalb bench and started applauding the gesture of sportsmanship. Soon, so did everybody in the stands.

"I did it for the guy who lost his mom," McNeal told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. "It was the right thing to do."

THAT'S what team sports should be about.

You will travel far, my little Kal-El

Swinebread has asked me to help fill in over at his place while he changes diapers and such, so I'll be occasionally posting over at Atomic Romance on comics, movies, video games and such.

I met a girl. We ate lobster and drank pina coladas. At sunset we made love like sea otters. THAT was a pretty good day. Why couldn't I get that day?

On regrets...

When I was in high school I was a pretty serious guy. I was a good student. I was active in politics. I was a member of the church youth group. I didn't drink much. I certainly never touched a blunt. I had the world figured out completely in black and white.

This last Friday I had coffee with the old flame I'd dated through most of high school (thanks Facebook.) In many ways she was sort of the opposite of me. She was a free spirit. She broke into dance at the drop of a hat, partied, drank and smoke pot. She wasn't a good student but damn did she love and celebrate being alive.

At this point you can see why this relationship didn't work out, but that's not my point here. :)

So we had a great time laughing and catching up on the last 20 years. We talked about old times. We couldn't figure out what happened to "Buddy" the stuffed monkey we used to trade back and forth with a generous helping of perfume or cologne for good measure. I tend to believe that all the Old Spice I dumped on the thing rotted it clean away.

At a certain point she asked me about regrets from those times. I shared with her that my biggest regret is that I was too serious. That I didn't party more. That I didn't dance more. That I didn't get to know all of the great people in my high school better because I had such a colossal stick up my ass.

Then I asked her if she had any regrets. She shared with me that she wished she'd been more serious. She wished she'd been a better student. She wished she'd worried a little more about the future.

When I was driving home after this I started thinking about this exchange and quickly went from giggling to laughing maniacally at the irony of this. When you broke it down- I regretted I wasn't more like her. She regretted she wasn't more like me.

It strikes me there are more than a few life lessons here.

There can't be a person on this planet that doesn't carry regrets from when they were a teenager. I wish I'd had the courage to ask out that pretty girl from first period English. I wish I'd told that cute guy I liked him. I wish I'd tried out for basketball. I wish, I wish, I wish.

Sometimes I wish I had a "rewind" button for my own life. Often that wish comes when I'm thinking about someone I've loved and lost like my dad. I want back some benign, irremarkable moment like a family dinner that I could just take in and enjoy him telling a bad joke, or an old story.

But there also times that I wish that I could go back and make a different decision, pick a different path. For example- that time my friend Doug tried to set me up with that hot girl and we were over at her apartment drinking Everclear (straight) and I was so drunk that when she asked me to head up to her room with her to "help her set her alarm clock" I told her to "push the 'clock' button at the same time you push the up down arrows" and went back to drinking. It didn't occur to me until the next morning when I was hung over and throwing up that maybe, just maybe she knew how to set that clock and wanted me upstairs for another reason.

Dummy.

The thing is- that's not the way life works. Life is not like the movie "Groundhog Day." There aren't right choices and wrong choices that we could "fix" with just the benefit of hindsight.

For every decision we make, for every door we close we may be losing an opportunity but we're almost always opening another door in return. You may not have asked that girl you liked to the winter formal but may have wound up falling love with the girl you did wind up taking. You may not have gone out for basketball but met your best friend while sitting in the stands cheering on the team. You may not have slept with that hot girl your friend was trying to set you up with but at least you swore off Everclear for life.

Strike that last one.

I think sometimes we forget that who we are are the sum of all the millions of decisions we've made in our lives. Even the "bad" decisions have helped to bring us to the person we are today. Are you happy with yourself? Thank the younger, wilder and wholly irresponsible you.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go dig through my closet looking for an old, stinky stuffed monkey and spray Old Spice on it. Just for old time's sake.