Friday, November 13, 2009

Friday the 13th, Part One Million

I was wandering outside to get the papers much earlier today--and yes, I still read them on actual paper except when I weaken and scan Huff Po, which has lately been pissing me off by being the NY Post of the left--and I was dressed in my usual morning attire: gym clothes and a pair of cute slipper boots my sis gave me last Christmas. I really like those slipper boots, except that I tripped over them and almost landed on my posterior on a set of stone steps.

But I didn't. I banged my hand a little, remained upright, managed to not even jam my back or scrape or even bruise anything. Just scared myself. When you fall down and you're a little kid, it's not a deal. But falling down as a grown-up is complicated. It often results in the need for more than a band-aid.

My question: is ALMOST falling down a lucky thing on a traditionally UNlucky day, Friday the 13th? One could argue that it is: after all, there was no harm done. And though I'll admit I still have the adorable booties on my tootsies, I'll be a lot more careful wearing them from now on. Perhaps it was a warning. That's lucky. Or was the almost-spill UNlucky? I mean, far luckier would be for me to have just proceeded on to the coffee machine and the Times Op Ed and Doonesbury in the local paper.

Or would it have been?

The next thing that happened was that my fancy-pants coffee machine, one of the deep joys of my life, started to shoot steam out the wrong places. That means I had to get my husband to play with it. It's a complicated machine with electronics and sometimes you have to pick it up and shake it (which is actually what they told us at the customer service line last time it misbehaved, and that seemed to work). It's also a heavy coffee machine, which is why I needed my husband. I also needed him because I tend to give up too fast when I think something is broken. Unlucky?

He was still on the snooze, so I got out my old coffeepot and made myself a cup of French press. Ken came downstairs a bit later and gave Fancy-pants Machine a good shake. Now it works. So it lives to brew another day. Lucky or un?

Derned if I know. I'll tell you if the thing gives me another cup when I finish this blog entry.

But this afternoon at 4 EST, I'm going to throw caution to the wind and suggest Satan's Whiskers today on Cocktails with Chris at http://www.randoradio.com

Satan's Whiskers Cocktails according to the Internet Cocktail Database, consist of one fifth part of the following: red vermouth, white vermouth, gin, orange juice, & Grand Marnier. Add a dash of orange bitters, shake and serve in a chilled cocktail glass. I'd garnish with a twist of orange rind.

Got me some interesting new CD's to spin for ya'll, too. See you there!

Tune in!!


2 comments:

Ed said...

Our Gaggia Titanium needs tweaking every so often...such is the dilemma when you own a superauto. I know we could not live without ours.

Catching the show (Rev. Billy, more TMBG, yay!) now after a hard day building Ken's console and marshaling my forces to do all that is necessary as we roll towards installation.

Susan made us a round of "Moonwalk": Rose Water
, grapefruit juice, grand marnier, champagne. Served in our new Reidel martini glasses.

Found somewhere online:

"Created in 1969 by Joe Gilmore, the Head Barman of the American Bar at the Savoy Hotel in London, to mark the first moon landing. The cocktail was the first drink the astronauts had when they arrived back on Earth. A letter of thanks was later sent from Neil Armstrong to Joe Gilmore. "

chrispy said...

The Moonwalk sounds like a French 75, a bit. That one has all kinds of wartime history--served to officers about to do battle says one story, or invented by Americans in France who couldn't get themselves drunk fast enough on champagne says another. It's got champagne, lemon juice, gin and a touch of cointreau. The recipe I use calls for brandied cherries as a garnish. It's surprisingly tasty, and pretty lethal.

Yeah, Capressos need to go home to their factories from time to time, too--although the place nearest us (just over the border in Northern Jersey) has a consumer help line staffed by a cheerful woman who seems to be able to talk you through most things over the phone. We've had our machine five years and it's had brushes with leaving our house for repairs, but not so far.

Ken's beside himself with excitement over the organ. Thanks for listening to the show!

Chris