Vin There. Done That.

Bill was "The Man"

by Lee

It's a well-known fact among my friends that Kill Bill is my favorite movie. Yes, Pulp Fiction is more artistic. It's arguably the best movie Quentin Tarrantino has made.

I don't care. It holds nothing, nothing, over Kill Bill for me.

I could make a laundry list of what I like about the film (I consider Kill Bill one movie, by the way. You need both parts to make a satisfying whole.) But today I'll only list one reason I love the movie so much: David Carradine in the title role.

So, the news that Carradine was found dead  in a hotel in Bangkok, Thailand, is very sad. Sadder, too, to think he might have taken his own life.

But tonight we will drink Woodford Reserve and watch Kill Bill, Volume 2, to celebrate "a tale of bloody revenge" that sadly reached its climax.

A different sort of personality test

by Lee

What makes you, well, you?

Is it the books you read?

 

Or the movies you watch?

The food you eat?

 

Or the things you drink?

 

The places you visit?

Your friends?

 

Or the people you love?

Certainly. But, sometimes, what it all boils down to is the fact that you're willing to spend $6.99 for this:

Inappropirate Matches: Knob Creek Bourbon & Ice Cream

by Rodney

I—despite being the less traveled and most backwoods in many ways of all my friends—still consider myself a very multi-faceted person.

 

I am German, so I have a genetic propensity to love beer.

 

I live in the land of Thomas Jefferson, so I have come to love wine.

 

However, I am a Southern male, so my first love is bourbon.

 

To that end, I would like to talk about my best girl [other than wife that is]: Knob Creek Bourbon. It is a very lovely little drink. Aromas of cedar resin, vanilla, and dark brown sugar with an accompanying amount of light butteriness, cinnamon, and a delightful heat in the back of the throat when you drink it. Altogether, it is quite wonderful and perfect—if only I could get ice cream into the mix somehow.

 

Hmmmm – wait one minute.  

Knob Creek Coke Float

3 decent size scoops of vanilla ice cream (Not Haagen-Dazs as its rum flavors and bourbon are likely to disagree. No offense to the Haagen-Dazs company; their product is delicious. Again, as with Bonny Doon, I will be glad to accept any donations for taste testing.) 

3 tbsps. of Knob Creek

1 12oz. can of Coke

 

Get a bowl, place the ice cream in it, and pour the bourbon over it. Then roll the ice cream in the bowl to coat. Pour a glass of Coke, add ice cream, and go to town.

Normally, I don’t advocate drinking bourbon other than with ice or neat (my preference). But for this small of an amount, I will make an exception. 

 

Next time I will tell you about moonshine, my illicit love, as a hillbilly.

On Vampires and Child-Rearing

by Lee

I wish I could entertain you with interesting, humorous, and heart-warming anecdotes of where we have been these past...months, has it been? Again? We are truly pathetic.

But I've got nothing. We've spent our time like most other people: working, sleeping, drinking, watching the fucking global economy collapse around us, drinking even more. And we pick on our child, because, really, why else have a child if you can't have some fun?

Exhibit A: Rach loves to buy...I mean, loves for us to buy her...copes of Tiger Beat and other pre-teen rags. She takes the quizzes, dreams of personal cell phones and laptops, and carefully unstaples the colorful posters to decorate her room. Obviously this must end. Recently she put up a poster from Twilight -- a movie she hasn't seen.

Me: Why?
Rach: Because it's a good story.
Me: Do you even know the story?
Rach: C. [her 12-year-old cousin] told me. I know how it ends.
Me: How?
Rach: He saves her life.
Me: That's nice.
Rach: He makes her a vampire.
Me: Then, technically, he didn't save her life.
Rach: He did. She was going to die.
Me: No, he killed her first. She's undead now.
Rach: Mmmoomm!

Victory. Bwah!

Oh, wait. Was that a spoiler? I don't care. I'm not fond of vegan, angsty vampires. You shouldn't be either.

I am fond of gimlets. Gimlets are good.

In space, everyone can hear you squeak

 (by Lee)

In what is probably yet another example of my lacking certain maternal instincts, I present to you exhibit A: a panda giving birth in China.

 

 

Aw, what a cute little baby panda, eh? No, not really. Not to me. In fact, it freaks me the hell out. The squeaky, rubbery little thing flopping around looks like some proto-face-hugger searching for an unsuspecting Nostromo executive officer to impregnate and then rudely burst out of his chest during a friendly spaghetti dinner.

 

 

Poor John Hurt. Bad alien baby.

 

Sure, there are those who will say the sight of my daughter being born—all bloody and covered with goo and things I can’t repeat in polite company—could engender the same feelings in others. Yes, perhaps I, too, called her an "alien baby" when I first saw the ultrasound. BUT, to those naysayers I say I feel sorry for your cold, dead heart that cannot recognize the beauty and miraculous grace of my daughter's newborn life.

 

This panda baby? Not so much.

Character Actors Wanted

by Lee

We may be charmingly erratic bloggers, but we had to note with sadness the passing of Julius Carry, who died Tuesday of pancreatic cancer.

 

In all the news reports, Carry is called a “character actor” -- "character actor" used to describe an actor and actress who delivers the most memorable parts in a movie.  Take, for instance, The Last Dragon where Carry played the villain Sho’Nuff. 

 

Remember the hero in that movie?  I didn't think so. 

Carry—at least in our household—is also known for his role as Bruce Campbell’s rival, and later friend, Lord Bowler in The Adventures of Briscoe County Jr., a show whose very existence and cult status was built on the genius and talent of character actors.

 

We at Vin There are sorry to see Carry go, and tonight we’ll raise a glass to the man who brought Sho’Nuff and Lord Bowler to life. 

 

So remember, when someone asks you, "Who's da mastah?", you say, "Sho'Nuff!"

To sleep, perchance to dream

From Lee

I understand that a "sleepover" for two eight-year-old girls doesn't necessarily mean sleeping.  I'm not naive.

Still, school -- glorious school! -- starts again in a little over a week.  They have to sleep some time.

Right?

At midnight, after letting them watch The Corpse Bride, I turn out the lights and tell them to go to sleep.  I know they won't.  I go back to my room, pick up Ruth Reichl's Garlic and Sapphires, and keep reading.  I'm about halfway through the book.

1:00 a.m. -- I go into their room and tell them to quiet down.  I try to sleep myself.

2:00 a.m. -- I hear them laughing.  They're playing their Nintendos.  I'm not pleased.  Mild threats ensue.

3:00 a.m. -- After dozing a little, I hear them giggling.  I groggily make my way to their room and severe threats ensue, along with the dreaded "don't make me separate you two" threat.

3:30 a.m. -- I separate them.  Because Rodney has to work in a few hours and I'm off, Rachel gets to sleep in my bed.  I lay down on the couch.  I'm not happy.

3:40 a.m. -- The cat is happy.  He keeps bouncing off my head.  God damn cat...

3:50 a.m. -- After threatening the cat -- he doesn't listen either -- I turn on the lights, give up the notion of sleep, and finish reading my book.  I also read half of Alton Brown's Feasting on Asphalt.

Later, when I grab an hour's sleep, I dream of head cheese.  Thanks, Alton.

In appreciation of Michael Caine & Cline wines

From Lee

When I was six months pregnant, Rodney and I went to San Francisco. Yeah, it sucked.

Touring San Francisco six months pregnant meant I huffed and puffed up 45-fucking-degree hills in China Town and Alcatraz.  It meant I watched Rodney try wine after wine in Sonoma. I still hate him a little for getting to have all the fun.

Who am I kidding? I hate him a lot for that.

 

But, if the wine was truly exceptional, he would tell me to take a sip. One of the wineries where I had a sip, or two, was Cline. Since then, we have tried every Cline wine we can find here in Virginia. We found a new wine the other night, Cashmere 2006.
 

Why the name Cashmere? I’d describe the wine as a decadent, elegant woman dressed in a cashmere sweater—elegant, but strong and powerful too, with a smooth, long finish and flavors of berries, chocolate, and black pepper.  This is a woman who pairs that sweater with big, black, high-heeled boots. She’s tough and full-bodied. She appreciates the ballet but will kick your ass if you annoy her.

We used to pair wines with movies in this blog, long ago when we wrote more frequently.  This time we watched “The Prestige” while drinking the wine, not on purpose, just because it was a Tuesday and we needed to drink. But it turned out to be a great pairing—the mystery, the revenge, the wonderful sets...yeah, our woman can get behind that. 

 

In the end, we had a great time. And you know why?  No matter how cool the movie was,Michael Caine stole the show. And this woman would kick both Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman to the curb for Michael Caine.

 

Really, wouldn’t you?

When one glass is not enough...

From Lee

My friend and I were forced to sit through a particularly long board meeting at a local restaurant.

Waiter:  Do you need anything else, ladies?

Me: We're going to need more wine.

W:  Yes, more wine.  And a siphon.

Roots

From Lee    

A quick conversation at work:

J:  I'm reading this great book that says the best way to lose weight is to eat and exercise like your ancestors.

S:  Who are your ancestors?

J:  Vikings.  That means I'm supposed to eat lots of fish.

Me:  That's not so bad.  What type of exercise?

S:  Raping and pillaging?

J: (getting annoyed)  No.  Rowing.  Rowing machines.

Me:  Yeah, that doesn't sound like so much fun.

When I am Queen

From Lee

Pluto will be a planet once again.  And don't get me started on Mercury. 

I had to learn all nine planets, and Rachel and her school friends will have to learn them as well.

Hitting The Road

From Lee

The Road, by Cormac McCarthy, is one of the most depressing novels I have ever read.  And that's saying something, coming from a recovering English major who particularly likes Russian and Victorian English authors.  But even if Oprah picked the novel as part of her Book Club -- WTF?! -- there were plenty of clues that it would be a tough read:  Cormac McCarthy, a father and son trying to survive a post-apocalyptic America, Cormac McCarthy.  You get the idea. It's an incredible, powerful novel.  It's just...tough.  It's meant to be.

Now I find they are making a movie from the book?  With Viggo Mortensen, who has a tendency to pick very violent, very disturbing roles now?  He scares me.  

We used to do alcoholic pairings on the blog.  I'm not sure what to pair with The Road.  Preferably something hard and straight -- whiskey, rye, or moonshine, perhaps, if you're starting your trek from the Appalachians.

Do you know how to survive a zombie apocalypse?

Posted by Lee

Well, now you do.

Chances are someone you know will become a zombie. Tell them how you feel BEFORE they start moaning and shuffling by sending an ecard from ifyouwereazombie.com. Features heartwarming messages like "If you were a zombie and I had to kill you, I'd feel sad." Because, once they're a zombie, it's too late to say you care.

Beer Cat

We're still alive.

We're still drinking.

And maybe we'll even write sometime soon...

Inappropriate Matches

Yams baked with cinnamon, topped with a marshmellow crust, paired with a Cristalino Kava. It worked -- don't ask me why.

It was good too.