The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved!

First off, happy birthday Joseph Schlitz! And thanks for one beautiful beer. Better to have one of those today rather than a glass of that mouthwash they call the Mint Julep. If it's such a trendy drink, how come the kids haven't screwed with the basic ingredients, the way they do with margaritas, mojitos, and martinis. Did someone say "'Ritatini"? Bite me.

But I digress.

Here it is derby day, where the track will be filled with more horse's asses than horses. Still, I am reminded of two wonderful works of art.

First is the Marx Brothers 1937 classic film, "A Day at the Races," which might just as well be called "A Day at the Racists" if viewed through the prism of today's mores. Frankly, you haven't lived until you've seen the brothers Marx in blackface and dancing swing with Whitey's Lindy Hoppers . . . to a tune called "All God's Chillun Got Rhythm." No, I have not yet begun to drink today, and I am not making this up. See for yourself right here:

The second work of art is a piece by my dear, departed colleague, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, before he wrote Fear and Loathing and before he became a doctor. "The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved" is Hunter's first foray into gonzo journalism. You can read it here: http://www.ralphsteadman.com/KYDerby.asp

Okay, let's go grab all the gusto we can get and pop open a tallboy of Schlitz. Happy birthday, Joe.

Too much tequila, or just not enough

Happy Cinco v1.2!

Sam Jaye the DJ enquires as to whether or not the barfly has taken the day off. 

Answer: No, just tied up with doctor's appointments. (Read: No beer until later in the day. Later is here!)

So, today was a day to celebrate John Gorrie, the New Orleans doctor who received on this date in 1851 the first patent for an ice machine (a "new and useful Machine for the Artificial Production of Ice and for general Refrigeratory Purposes"). Apparently, he did not foresee plastic ice buckets in motel corridors.

Nonetheless, his ice was probably in demand throughout Seis de Mayo.

His invention of this machine is also the precursor to that of Allie Fox, the main character in Paul Theroux's Mosquito Coast. Theroux, as you might know, lives in Hawaii, but summers in Sandwich. Most others in his family still reside here in West Dennis (Far from perfect, next to normal).

Anyway, thanks Dr. John for inventing the main ingredient in the ice bag.

There, Sammy. I hope you're happy.

The classic Mexican joyride

¡Ay, caramba!

It's another so-called "holiday" invented to promote crappy beer and (when you get drunk enough) crappy food to kill the taste of that beer. Face it. Any beer with a lime in it tastes just like any other beer with a lime in it. Or -- if you drink that Bluey Moony stuff -- an orange in it. 

So, do yourself a favor today. Order an expensive beer today and tell the bartender to stick a banana in it. And when he tells you they have no bananas, then say: "Forget it, just give me a PBR."

Beer should taste like beer!

The best nachos on the Cape & Islands USED to be at the original Asa Bearse House in Hyannis back in 1979. Then, at Three Bears (not Three BeErs) in South Yarmouth in the 1980s. And then, Starbuck's (the bar) in the 1990s, where the Pancake Man had been in Hyannis. Today, the Hot Stove in Harwich Port serves a good plate with freshly-fried nachos, but most these days are quite generic.

So, I suggest you fetch yourself a cerveza right now, then click below to watch a Daffy Duck classic, "Mexican Joyride."

Quattro de Mayo . . . lithium in your beer.

 No matter what the folks at Miller have to say, the first beer ever to advertise itself as "lite" (as opposed to "light") was Lithia Beer, brewed in West Bend, Wisconsin. The 1966 newspaper ad proclaimed a case of 24 twelve-ounce bottles could be had for $2.99 plus deposit. On its labels and caps, though, Lithia Beer was described as "Light."

Years later, when Miller took over Meister Brau and all of its trademarks, Miller Lite tried to prevent any other brands from calling themselves "Light" or "Lite." Courts ruled that Miller could trademark "Lite," but not "Light."  A lot of arguing was made over whether "light" meant just the color, or if it meant the calories, or the carbs or just what. And what about "Dark" beer? Would that become a trademark? Nope. So, "Lite" now belongs to Miller.

As with a lot of other vintage local beers, Lithia disappeared for a while, and now has been revived by some craftsmen. The original West Bend Lithia Company was a 120-year-old family brewery, owned by Charlie Walter, Jr. Lithia brewed 75,000 barrels a year and its distinct flavor came from lithium in the brewery's well.

Lithium?

Yes, lithium. The same stuff that goes into batteries.

Aha! So, would that make Lithia Beer a potentially battery-powered lite?

What if Bobby didn't fly? - The 40th Anniversary

While the world awaits some picture of OBL, let me remind fellow barflys that tomorrow will mark the 40th anniversary of one of the most famous photographs in the history of sports, Boston or otherwise.

I am speaking, you know, of the flight of Number Four (Bobby Orr) scoring the fourth goal, during the fourth period (overtime), of the fourth game of the 1972 Stanley Cup playoffs. Orr's goal won the series . . . even though he was tripped by player number 4 (you could look it up).

Here's a Stanley Cup promo using several angles of that play . . . in reverse: 

Quite often seen playing golf around the upper Cape these days, there was a time about a decade ago when he was a spokesman for BankBoston or Bank of Boston or whatever it was called. Apparently, his contract called for his being all over the place and signing his name to whatever bank customers asked him to sign. Except, I'm thinking, blank checks. So, one day I brought him a copy of that famous picture of that famous goal. And about a month or so ago, I literally stumbled upon it in my attic. After I file this report, I plan to go up there and bring it downstairs to put it once again on display.

For Bobby's sake, that contract has ended, but he remained throughout the experience his reputation as a genuinely nice guy. Thanks, Bobby. That's just one more of the qualities that has made you a legend.

We will probably never know the names of the heroes

On any other 2 May, I'd probably resort to celebrating the birthdays of Heinrich Magnus and Eberhard Anheuser, but that can wait another year. After all, they died long before the Corpse du jour: Osama bin Laden, may his soul-less body roast in hell. (Whew! And I haven't had anything to drink today other than coffee and water!)

So, we all know what everyone's talking about on their barstools today. Some will argue that they need to see evidence. Others will boast that it could not have been done without Obama. And too many people will forget to thank those who put their lives on the line to accomplish this mission, as well as those who died on 9/11 nearly a decade ago. More likely than not, we might never know the name of the person who put that bullet above OBL's left eye, but s/he deserves a toast for having the courage to enlist and the fortitude to persevere. And a round of gratitude should go out to that same person's family who prays nightly for his/her safe return.

Argue all you want about the politicians here, but realize that you display a certain amount of shallowness if that's all you have to say. Frankly, not one of those elected maroons -- Democrat, Republican, or Otherwise -- is worthy of anyone's vote. As a lot, they are a self-serving class of buffoons.

Remember on this 2 May, as well as on every 1 May hereafter, that the true heroes of yesterday might never be known by name. And yet, we should remain eternally grateful. And they next time you find yourself at any event where the nation's anthem is being sung, be certain to reflect upon those last two lines that most drunken louts drown out with mindless cheers: 

"O'er the land of the free

And the home of the brave."

Free throws and fastballs and slices

Without the brilliance of Heinrich Gustav Magnus, neither Joe Castiglione, nor Sean Grander would be able to understand the physics of their sports. Henry Gus the Great explained the "Magnus Effect," and the rest is history. Tomorrow is his birthday, but we need yet another reason to drink to something when the Celtics cool the Heat today.