The Bar is Closed

“Thursday, March 23, 2006; SAN ANTONIO, Texas (Reuters) -- Texas has begun sending undercover agents into bars to arrest drinkers for being drunk, a spokeswoman for the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission said Wednesday.”

I knew this was coming! Last year, in this column, I said that I was opposed to banning smoking in bars because it’s part the bar scene and we all know it. Even though I’m a non-smoker, I felt that smokers have the right to smoke. If you can’t smoke in a bar, where can you smoke? I said pretty soon there’d be no drinking in bars and look.... it’s happening!

If they can ban getting drunk in a BAR in TEXAS then there’s no hope for the rest of the country! First no smoking, now no drinking, soon no chewing gum and no talking! Then no flirting and no dancing! Next, bars will serve only coffee so they don’t get sued for anything and then somebody will be sitting on a tiny stage playing acoustical guitar singing ‘Kumbaya’.

People go to bars to achieve some level of inebriation. They say and do stupid things to blow off steam. Sometimes there’s a fight, sometimes a woman takes off her top, sometimes people cry on you. It’s a bar! Bar things happen in a bar. As long as you don’t drive drunk, what is the problem?

Summer 2006, in a bar somewhere in America

“I’m sorry sir, you’ve already had your two beer limit this evening. I can serve you coffee. We have a nice line of expressoes.”
“I want another beer! I’m not driving. I walked here from my hotel. I will be walking back.”
“I’m sorry. It’s our new policy. No drunks in the bar.”
“Can I buy a bottle and take it with me?”
“No, you’ll drink it once you get back.”
“No I won’t, I swear. Besides...uh.... it’s not for me. It’s for my mother. She came all the way from Italy on this vacation with me, sweetest woman in the world. It’s for her. She was going to come with me tonight, but she’s not feeling well. You wouldn’t want to punish her just because I’ve had my quota, would ya?”
“I can’t. I’m real sorry. But you know, you can take a cab from here and go to Lefty’s Elbow Room. You can have two more beers there. That’s what most customers do.”
“Oh, I get it.... I can go from bar to bar and have two beers in each bar...”
“Yup. The cab has a shuttle service going in a loop to every bar on the Island. Just sit out front and wait.”

Two men sitting in front of a bar waiting for a cab...

“Damn this is getting expensive! This cab is making a fortune off of me.”
“How many bars you been to so far?”
“Lets see, six beers.... three bars.”
“When did you start?”
“I started at seven o’clock. It’s ten now. The problem with this bar shuttle system is that you can’t drink your beers close enough together to get a buzz on, you know what I mean?”
“Do what I do. I start drinkin’ much earlier in the day now. That way you stay a head of the crowd and the cab can get you to the next stop much quicker.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I started at four o’clock today. It’s ten now. I’ve been to four bars and I feel great.”
“You’re not worried about the cab getting all your money?”
“Nah. I just took out my cash and gave him my wallet after the second bar. He takes my ATM card and gets cash from the bank and pays himself for me between pickups.”
“That’s very considerate of him.”
“It’s the new way to drink now. It’s not so bad really. Most of the women stay put and get better lookin’ everytime you loop through their bar.”
“Tomorrow night, I’m just gonna get me a bottle and drink at home on my sofa.”
“Can’t do that.”
“What? Why not?”
“Fire ordinance. No sitting at home and drinking. You might get impaired judgement and start smoking and set the sofa on fire. Or worse, you might drink and dial, and bore someone with a drunken rant.”
“Man, what has happened to this country? Used to be a man could have a couple beers with friends, smoke, flirt and maybe even score. Now, we’re being protected to death from things we don’t want protection from and another thing my friend....”
“Cab’s here.”
“Oh yeah... let’s go.”

Cyclone Larry

AP: Mon., March 20, 2006 SYDNEY, Australia -- The worst storm to hit Australia in decades, Cyclone Larry - a category five storm ... mowing down sugar and banana crops and leaving thousands of people homeless ... the airport was cleared to house thousands of people in tents. ... Snakes and Crocodiles Alerts; ... volunteers to help with the cleanup, were warned to be on their guard for deadly animals stirred up by the storm, AP reports. "Keep your kids away from flooded drains, be aware of snakes and crocodiles,".. "Those guys will have had a bad night too."

A Hurricane, a Typhoon and Cyclone are all the same kind of storm, just in different locations; hurricanes in the Atlantic, typhoons in the Pacific and cyclones in the southern hemisphere for Australia. Australia, of course, has to be different, so their storms spin clockwise. They reverse their seasons, drive on the wrong side of the road, speak english with the thickest accent they could possibly develop, they just go out of their way to be different than the rest of the world. We have normal names for our hurricanes; Alice, Louise, Nathan; they have stupid names for their storms; Larry, Dick, Bud....BUD? YES! They had Cyclone Bud! It was only a category two, so they called it - what else? Bud-lite!

Australians visit Shelter Island all summer. The Hamptons won’t let them in because they’re too redneck, so they all have to come here for their east coast experience.

I ran into a big clutch of them last summer at Wades Beach. They were talking loud, but I hardly understood a word. I was worried because they were drinking, (yes, it’s true) and I was sure somebody was going to drive on the wrong side of the road. So I stayed and monitored them for as long as I could. They lured me to their picnic with a plate of shrimp. I only ate the shrimp to be polite and to give me an excuse to get in close and find out what they might be up to. They were planning a trip to Las Vegas and trying to determine what ‘territory’ it was in. I told them it was in Indian territory, so they’d better be armed. A couple of the men were wearing calvary style straw hats with one side up, so I told them they could lead the charge since they already had the hats. Someone said something to which there was much laughter, if I had my Australian to English Dictionary with me, I’ve have gotten the joke. What I did discover, when they threw their heads back to laugh, is that there are no orthodontists in Australia, so if anyone wants to corner a market, I think there’s one waiting in the outback.

We got into a conversation about deer and they asked me what predators we had here for population control. I said just guns and cars. They were very excited that there was hunting on the island and I suddenly realized I’d said the wrong thing. So if anyone on the Island thinks they had a dream last August of Australians hunting among their hydrangeas, I apologize. They advised me that one wolf pack could take control our deer population. I promised to pass that along to our Town Board. I’m sure Wolf Pack Importation would go over really good on the agenda.

I pointed out that wolves present their own danger and might eat children. No one seemed alarmed, one man said, “Maybe a few.” Like that was an acceptable loss. But now I know how stupid I was to discuss dangerous predators with people who just advised the Cyclone Larry victims to "Keep your kids away from flooded drains, be aware of snakes and crocodiles,".. "Those guys will have had a bad night too.". Are they kidding?

“What ‘appened to yer little boy Johnny, Mavis?”
“Ow, lost ‘im to croc after Larry, we did. ‘e was standin’ too close to a flooded ditch and I yells out to ‘im, “Johnny, watch for crocs!” But ‘e didn’t ‘ear me.”
“I’m sorry Mavis.”
“Well, we ‘ave ‘is twin. So it’s just like ‘e’s ‘ere, except I don’t have to buy in doubles no more. So it all worked out in the end you might say.”
“Well, all’s well that ends well, cheerio!”

I don’t know if it’s all the sun, something in the kangaroo meat, the isolation from the rest of the world, or what, but Australians have a very different comprehension of ‘normal’ compared to the rest of the world. Just be prepared in case you need to fend them off this summer... I found the best thing is to tell them that beer in the Hamptons is half the price of Shelter Island’s, since ours is all imported...

St Patrick's Day SEASON?

St. Patrick’s SEASON???

[Disclaimer: The St Patricks celebration photo on the right is not of me. I'd need much bigger shamrocks....]

Wow! What news! All over the media, they’re saying “St. Patrick’s Season”, not St. Patrick’s Day! Sure ‘n begora....when was the day expanded to a season? I mean, it’s always been that way for my family, we start drinking on the15th just to get a head start, but we didn’t want to force the rest of the country into it. And yet... here it is....

But why, why was the day expanded into a season?

Is it because we won the Civil War for the North? General Robert E. Lee was quoted saying to Grant, “The only reason your side won was because you had more Irishmen.” Is it because we build old New York, especially the Brooklyn Bridge? Is it because we brought River Dance here? Is it because we brought The Three Tenors?

Is it because we added colorful language to American english? Like, the Paddywagon = a police wagon to transport groups of unruly people; Donnybrook = a fight, usually followed by a paddywagon; Bushnells’ = Irish water of life, usually followed by a donnybrook and a paddywagon, Irish Flu = a hangover, usually preceeded by Bushnells, a donnybrook and a paddywagon.

Is it our colorful linguistic contradictions? A unique feature in the Irish and Irish American patois is our contradictions, everybody loves them. Here’s some I remember hearing growing up: “He’ll regret it to his dyin’ day, if ever he lives that long.” [translation - he is in soooo much trouble] “Don’t be in such a hurry that you arrive before you get there.”[translation - don’t rush] “If you get there first, leave a chalk mark in an obvious place. If I get there first, I’ll erase it.”[translation - whoever arrives first, just wait for the other one] “He’s on the wagon now... barely a bottle a week.” [translation - court ordered AA meetings] “Well, do your best to end up there in the first place.”[translation - give it your best shot]. I thought everyone understood this way of speaking until I saw “Waking Ned Divine” (a great movie by the way) with a southern friend and we were hitting “pause” every thirty seconds so I could explain to her what was just said!

Is it because we brought Marion Morrison (aka John Wayne), Bing Crosby, Maureen O’Hara? Grace Kelly, Gene Kelly, Spencer Tracy, Jimmy Cagney? Bill Murray, Ryan Stiles, Drew Carey? Jackie Gleason, Mickey Rooney, Art Carney? Daniel Doone, Davy Crockett? Henry Ford, John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan? How about Matthew McConnaghey, Liam Neeson, Pierce (my heart) Brosnan? And Sean Connery?.... I don’t care if he was raised in Scotland, he’s ours....

Is it our Irish Coffee? Alex Levine the writer said, “Only Irish coffee provides in a single glass all four essential food groups: alcohol, caffeine, sugar, and fat.” Is it our corned beef and cabbage? Our soda bread? Our terrific tea? And of course, our greatest contribution to mankind... beer. I know the ancient Egyptians brewed it and many other cultures as well, but nobody got it right till Guiness did. And there isn’t an Irish American family in this country that doesn’t have it’s own panel of experts to verify this.

Maybe it was our movies that got us a whole season of recognition.....The Quiet Man, Going My Way, The Bells of Saint Mary’s, Angela’s Ashes, My Left Foot, Finian’s Rainbow, Ryan’s Daughter, Michael Collins, Far and Away, and many more.

Our music perhaps? American blue grass is right out of Irish folk music. Danny Boy alone had to get us a few points... everyone thinks it’s a girl/boy love song. It’s not. It’s a father singing to his son whom the British conscripted into a far off war. That’s why it’s sung at police and firemen’s funerals, it’s a ballad for a fallen son in uniform. What about MacNamara’s Band? Everybody knows those words!

Maybe America is just tired of the party pooper atheists trying to squelch any holiday that has any religious connection. This could be just the beginning of an antipooper movement. There’s plenty of tragedy and suffering to go around, we need all the excuses to celebrate life we can get!

But, whatever the reason, we thank ‘e for the season, we’ll do a little drinkin’ and talk a little treason’ [translation - thanx for the party expansion, we’re gonna have a few extra and argue over everything].

May the road rise up to meet you and the wind be at your back... Happy St. Patrick’s Season!

Dachshunds, Worlds Most Annoying Dog...

My mother, who has three cats, decided she didn't have enough to do, so she adopted two young Dachshunds. They bark at everyone and anything that moves. They scare easily and pee when ever they get scared, which is often. I know that many people are dedicated to this breed, but I don't know why. They just pee and bark. They're cute, but so is a daffodil...

My mother says they're angels when no one is around and it's just the three of them. But this is the same woman who told me that fairies would pay money for my teeth, so her credibility is questionable.

But in fairness, there's nothing wrong with these two noisy little pee bags that couldn't be fixed by a taxidermist. I think they'd make wonderful bookends.

Here's my list of uses for a dachshund, stuffed or live, I don't really care:

Neck roll: If you have them stuffed with a nice latex foam, they'd make a great neck roll for lying on the couch.

Doorstop: How cute would this be? A dachshund, with that goofy little smile, filled with about five pounds of buckshot would hold open just about any sized door.

Coat collar: I know the fox collars of the 40s and 50s are out of style, but that's because foxes live in the wild and are hard to catch. Dachshunds live in people's houses and are relatively easy to catch with just a few doggie treats and a net. Dachshund collars could make an adorable fashion statement and I bet little kids would love to pet the doggie wrapped around Mommy's neck.

Tire Stop. Both ferries use chock blocks to push under your tires to limit movement on the ferry. A sand filled dachshund would make a perfect tire stop. Plus it's long enough that you could have "Welcome to Shelter Island" shaved into its fur.

Fair Event: They have Taber Tosses at some fairs, why not a Hound Hurl? Big men could swing dachshunds overhead by their tails and hurl them in a distance contest. For an extra challenge, live dachshunds could be used because they'd run as soon as they hit the ground and add the dimension of chase to the contest!

Fireman's Wiener Dog Roast: Firemen have barbecues, how great to add a wiener dog roast? I estimate the average roasted dachshund could feed a family of six. And why not? This is the Year of the Dog and dog is a favorite meal in Communist China. We're importing everything else Chinese, why not a few more cultural recipes?

Water Toys: An air-filled dachshund, with sand in its feet for ballast will float in a standing position and look just adorable in your pool. Cup holders can be strapped to the back for drinks.

Moorings: I can't really recommend dachshunds for mooring. They're too squishy and wouldn't even last half a season.

Lawn Decor: Here's something dachshunds were born for! Imagine purchasing several stuffed doxxies from the garden shop and placing them all around your lawn. You can position them chasing a ball, jumping in the air, put one in a tree looking down and forlorn. You could change their positions every week and give the neighbors a treat every time they drive by.

Slippers: I had a pair of slippers once that were stuffed parrots. Why not dachshund slippers? Cute, warm... and silent! You can put them on the bed if you feel like you need four beady eyes staring at you in the morning. If you miss the sound of them, just go to annoyingdogbarks.com and download their sharp, nerve grating barks. If you play them at a slower speed, they sound like St. Bernards, speed it up and they sound like Chihuahua's.

Races: Dachshund races would be fun to watch. They look stupid when they run and they're so easily distracted, they'd never stay in their lanes... the races would quickly disintegrate into a dachshund donnybrook funny enough to rival Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl.

Speed Bumps: Everyone struggles to slow down people on their streets or even in their driveways. What better way than to install cement filled dachshunds? Everybody will brake, thinking they are about to hit some sweetie pie wiener dog. Only it will turn out to be the wiener dog from hell as it takes out their oil pan!

But... all kidding aside... I really do find these dogs annoying.

Greenport, NY Tourist Trap

Fish or cut bait

Whaling was a noble and necessary industry for centuries. It would still be today without the discovery of oil in the ground. Whaling provided lamp and heating oil, corset struts, perfume essence, ivory, and myriad other products. We butcher, eat and wear cattle and pigs and think nothing of it, but now whales are sacred cows. Greenport and Sag Harbor, New York, were famous whaling ports, but it looks to me like Greenport is a little embarrassed about its whaling past. But why?

Every time I take the ferry and look at Greenport, it gets a little more kitschy and a little less whaley. First they got rid of their only tall ship, the beautiful Regina Maris. A great symbol of the town, it could be seen from almost any point along the wharf or channel. Too whaley, it had to go. Then they installed this tourist trap glitzy carousel to give the place an amusement park atmosphere. What schlock! They spiffed up the area around it and that’s nice. Then they replanked the long fishing dock and that was great, until they went too far...

The fishing dock has these dunce cap white cones on the top of each mooring post, all the same height. Looks like a work by Christo, or a long row of white Hershey’s Kisses. I know why they did it.... to keep the seagulls from standing on the posts. The gulls can’t land on the cones. I guess the gulls had to go because they go with the whole whaling theme, ergo they-go.

It was always nice to come across on the ferry and see one seagull perched atop each post. Twenty or thirty in a row. All watching the ferry, thinking about where they can find French fries today, where should they have their taxes done, and all the other things seagulls think about while watching ferries. Now instead of a line of bird brains, I see a line of cone heads.
The cones have to go.

Mooring posts aren’t just for seagull perching, they are also essential for fishing. You cut bait on the top of the post. You jam your bait knife in the post so you know where it is. You stick hooks into the top so they don’t fall on the deck and get in somebody’s foot. The top of the post can hold two or three beers, or one sandwich and a coffee. When the top of the post splits a little, it increases the surface area and you can put a little cooler there.

But don’t the seagulls try to eat the bait and steal your sandwich? Absolutely! Battling seagulls for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is one of the first skills developed by shore line kids. It’s a developmental marker like learning to walk or talk. Even the smallest child quickly — and intuitively — learns how to wave his arms to protect his Oreo’s!

Bait Theft Prevention is a native skill for everyone who has ever dropped a line off a dock. The gulls circle and wait for any opening to get that bait! It adds to the challenge of dock fishing. A dock fisherman can catch the critters below the sea while fending off attackers from the sky! It’s all part of the thrill of the hunt!

But don’t the gulls poop on the dock? Of course they do. But fishermen love the smell of salty air and gull poop on the deck. Smells like....victory.

Maybe Greenport could uncap half of the posts as a compromise. Then, the tourists could have their pictures taken by the pointy cones that match their pointy heads and the fisherman could still enjoy fishing and cutting bait atop the posts.

It’s heart warming to see guys fishing off the dock in summer. People on the ferry wave to them and they wave back. Every one of them used the post for something. Now.... when they fish, the bait they cut will slide off the side of the cone. Their sandwiches will slide off and be eaten by gulls that can swoop faster than a man can catch. They’ll all kick their coffee over because it’s on the deck and not a post.

And there the fishermen will stand.... coffeeless, starving, baitless, with hooks in their feet, surrounded by an army of giant white kisses, looking lost and bewildered. The people on the ferry will point and laugh. Only the gulls will understand. Because the gulls know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. And in a rare alliance of nature, gull and man will stand side by side as man gets out a screwdriver and pries off the killer kones of kitsch...