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Word of the Every So Often

terroir:  (noun)  (pronounced:  tare-rwor)  It’s the jizz of wine making.  It’s everything that goes into making a wine... well... a wine.  It’s the terrain, the climate, the soil, the topography, the latitude and longitude and anything else I may have missed.  Like... everything.  So next time you order wine, be sure to ask your sommelier about the terroir.  And then, when your given that information, just nod your head knowingly and say, “Excellent.”

A Year Full of Firsts

On this day in 1867 Alfred Nobel demonstrated dynamite for the first time in a quarry in Surrey, England.  All told, Nobel, who came from a wealthy Swedish family, held 355 patents, many covering things that would blow up, and he had established over 90 armaments factories.  And all those things made him very rich.  Incredibly rich.

 

As the story goes, when Alfred’s brother died, the press mistakenly thought it was Alfred who had died.  In his obituary, the only thing they remembered him for was those machinations of death he invented or profited from, and that so upset Alfred that he left the majority of his vast fortune to creating the Nobel Prizes, a yearly recognition of those people who are outstanding in Chemistry, Physics, Physiology, Medicine, Literature... and Peace.  Each prize comes with a nifty medal and over a million dollars cash.

 

Among those famous people who have won a Nobel Peace Prize are Martin Luther King, Jr., Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, Malala Yousafzai, and the 14th Dalai Lama, as well as presidents Barack Obama, Teddy Roosevelt, and Jimmy Carter.  Our current president has made it known that he, too, would like to join that list.  He would like to be recognized for a person who has rendered “...the greatest service to the cause of international fraternity, in the suppression or reduction of standing armies, or in the establishment or furtherance of peace congresses.”

 

There are many who question just how altruist Nobel was.  Among other things, he’s been criticized for anti-Semitism, chauvinism, and profiting off of death.  There are many who think he came up with the Nobel Prize just to whitewash his reputation.  And they may be right.  After all, Nobel is undoubtedly better known now for his prizes than for dynamite.  And while you’re contemplating that... does it matter?  After all, it’s hard to argue that the Nobel Prizes have not done good. 

Cartoon of the Week

27 Tastes Like Human.jpg

"Ummm... tastes like human."

Stuff

The Ballad of Lester and Carl

 

Carl spent his mornings

at the Community College

studying to be an accountant.

His Aunt Maude, with whom he lived,

had recommended accounting.

"You can always get a job as an accountant,"

she said every morning

before heading out to Arlene's Beauty World,

where she spent most of her day

putting perms in old ladies' hair.

 

In the evenings Carl worked

as a cashier at Lou's Discount City.

Lou had hinted more than once

that a man with a degree in accounting

could have a future at Lou's.

 

But in the afternoons,

between the Community College and Lou's,

Carl would put on his baggy pants

and his Hawaiian print shirt

and a pair of really good Groucho glasses

that he'd bought at an acting supply store,

and he'd stand on the corner

of 15th and Belview - downtown by the deli -

and he'd juggle for the lunchtime crowd.

Behind his back, under the leg,

cascade and shower and columns.

Two balls, three balls, even four.

Clubs, knives, hammers, fruit, and eggs.

He was even saving money for torches,

at the same acting supply store

where he'd gotten his glasses.

The more dangerous it was,

the more people would stop and watch,

and sometimes they'd even applaud,

and every once in a very great while

they'd throw money into the hat

that he always set on the ground

before he'd begin his routine.

 

Now all good stories

have to have something happen,

and this is it:

Carl's Aunt Maude ran off with Eugene,

the maintenance man in their building.

 

The note was rather hard to read.

It said something about Keno in Reno;

the bills are paid to the end of the month;

there's leftovers in the 'fridge,

and don't forget to feed Lester.

Lester was the dog.

 

Actually, Carl wasn't very upset at all,

since he paid most of the bills anyway,

the maintenance man was never around when you needed him,

and the leftovers weren't really that good to begin with.

It's just that he didn't particularly care for the dog.

 

Lester came from a long line of dogs,

none of which was over two feet tall,

but he mostly looked like a very rough cross between a poodle and a terrier,

with a face that looked kinda like

a collie with an upper bite.

But Carl had nothing against ugly little dogs,

even ugly little dogs with loud little yaps

so shrill they made your teeth hurt.

What Carl hated

was ugly little dogs with shrill little yaps

that needed to be walked,

because there was no good time

to walk the shrill, ugly little dog,

except in the afternoon.

So Carl took Lester with him

when he juggled downtown.

 

Lester mostly sat there,

not being shrill or loud

and not really being very ugly.

A few people even said,

"Oh, look at the cute little dog."

These were usually the people

that never left any money.

 

Then one day Cal dropped the rubber fish

that he was trying to juggle

with the rubber chicken and the rubber banana

and the real stalk of celery,

and Lester got up and got it,

and be brought it back.

And he jumped up and gave it to Carl

so that Carl didn't even have to break stride.

The crowd was really impressed.

A lot of them actually applauded with enthusiasm,

and more people than ever before

left money in the hat Carl had left on the street.

 

As the days went by,

Carl found out that whatever he dropped

Lester would get,

even the knives and hammers and the torches

that Carl was finally able to buy.

In fact, Lester got so good

that he'd usually get whatever Carl dropped

before it ever hit the ground.

The crowds got bigger and bigger,

and Carl started dropping things on purpose.

And when he didn't,

when he was doing something really tough,

like juggling five avocados or six pieces of really fine China,

the people in the crowd would always yell,

"Hey!  Go ahead and drop something, already!"

So he would.

 

Then one day a man came up after the show

and offered Carl an incredible amount of money for Lester,

so Carl sold him.

The man took Lester to Hollywood,

changed his name to Flash,

and even got him on the Arsenio Hall show.

The crowd loved him.

 

Carl still went downtown in the afternoons,

but fewer and fewer people bothered to stop,

and hardly anybody even politely clapped,

and nobody at all left any money in Carl's hat.

And then one day Carl stopped going downtown altogether.

 

Pretty soon after that

Carl graduated from the Community College

with an Associates Degree in Accounting,

and Lou kept his promise,

promoting him to Assistant Manager in Charge of Accounts,

which was a day job,

so Carl would've had to have stopped juggling anyway.

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Earl@holygrailpress.com

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