Wrapping paper.

With all the bodies piling up in the last couple of days, we haven’t had much time to talk about Christmas. How was yours? Mine was fine, with perhaps a bit too much driving. Down to Columbus on Saturday, back to Detroit on Sunday, to and from Defiance on Monday. But we had a nice time. My big present from Alan were several nice antique prints, including this one, which made me laugh. (I don’t think Alan paid that much, however, and if he did, he’s in trouble.)

As I’ve gotten older, my contributions to the what-I’d-do-if-I-won-the-lottery conversation are dwindling. I’m over cars, houses, and most grown-up toys. If I won the lottery, I’d do most of my big spending on two things — travel and art. A few years ago Alan and I started buying antique prints, nothing grand, the sort of things a couple of underpaid journalists can afford. (In all our time together, I think we’ve only owned two pieces that cost more to buy than they did to frame.) One of the household dramas of recent weeks that I’ve spared you was the Great Bedroom Painting Project, in which I learned (yet again!) that one does not argue with Alan’s color sense. Now we’re living in a taupe bedroom — and yes, all the screws on the light switches line up at 12 o’clock — and need some new stuff for the walls. Audubon’s butt-licking lynx will do nicely.

Among our experiences over the weekend was this oddity: My brother, Alan and I stopped in for a drink at the little workingman’s bar in Obetz, a little workingman’s suburb of Columbus. (My brother owns the joint.) It was quiet for a Saturday night, just two women and three men, all sitting at the bar. Only wait, that third man isn’t a man at all…

“There’s a dog at the bar,” Alan said. I looked closer. Looking back through the barroom gloom was, indeed, a dog. A big chocolate Lab, sitting on a stool as nice as you please. He had a bowl of water in front of him. (At least, I think it was water. It didn’t have an olive in it, so I assume it wasn’t a martini.) It looked like a beer commercial; I kept waiting for the dog’s lips to move CGI-style and for him to call someone dude.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Budweiser,” his owner said. But of course.

Budweiser was a very good dog, parking his considerable Lab frame on a rather tiny spot of barstool real estate with no obvious discomfort or complaint. Every so often someone would buy him a piece of beef jerky. At one point my brother talked some amicable trash to his owner, and the owner talked some trash back, and Budweiser barked in agreement. When one of the women called him over for some jerky and petting, he jumped down from his stool and jumped up onto the one next to her with no coaxing whatsoever.

“Doesn’t the health department have a problem with this?” I asked. (For the record, I think every bar should have a house dog.)

“This is Obetz,” he said. “You can do anything you want here. No one knows we exist.”

Good dog, Budweiser.

So, bloggage:

God bless the crazy men among us: Man spends $60,000 and half his life building a “Jetsons-style” vehicle. “Why drive when you can fly 500 m.p.h.?” he asks.

Excellent question.

Spike Lee’s directing the James Brown biopic? Finally, a movie where I care who plays the lead. (My bet’s on Eddie Murphy.)

Guess how much sleep I got last night? Not enough. I’m off to find more French Roast and take a shower.

Posted at 11:23 am in Popculch, Same ol' same ol' |

10 responses to “Wrapping paper.”

  1. brian stouder said on December 28, 2006 at 11:36 am

    Well, you mentioned the old “if I won the lottery” question –

    or maybe this fits in (somehow) with the last entry’s supernatural discussion – but here’s a story from Michigan that touches on the cosmic code


    an excerpt

    ARCADIA TOWNSHIP, Mich. – The man who won a $208 million Mega Millions lottery jackpot with his wife in April 2005 has died, police and a family spokesman said. Ralph Stebbins died Saturday at his home in Arcadia Township near Lapeer, Sheriff’s Sgt. Andy Engster told the Times Herald of Port Huron. Family spokesman Robert Kolt said he suffered a heart attack. He was 43.

    and then, just before the end of the story, comes this ‘oh, by the way’ bit of information

    Stebbins, who became a grandfather in August, enjoyed working on motorcycles and other vehicles in his garage, Kolt said. In October, Stebbins was charged with attempted murder, possession of a dangerous weapon and being a habitual offender for stabbing his daughter’s boyfriend, with a pocketknife at an auction, the Port Huron Times Herald reported on its Web site.

    1130 chars

  2. Marcia said on December 28, 2006 at 11:50 am

    Well. I would have driven to Obetz for a drink, you know.

    58 chars

  3. nancy said on December 28, 2006 at 11:53 am

    Another time, Marcia. This was an unscheduled detour, believe me.

    65 chars

  4. mary said on December 28, 2006 at 2:50 pm

    A lab is the perfect bar dog.

    29 chars

  5. brian stouder said on December 28, 2006 at 3:48 pm

    y’know, I only just noticed that ol’ Nance was off to find more coffee before hitting the shower – rather than more french toast

    128 chars

  6. mary said on December 28, 2006 at 5:46 pm

    Only Eddie Murphy. I bet you recall the HOT TUB shenanagans on SNL.

    67 chars

  7. mary said on December 28, 2006 at 10:08 pm

    I’m going to add something to my maryness to prevent confusion. I’ll be LA mary from now on.

    92 chars

  8. brian stouder said on December 29, 2006 at 9:18 am

    I’ll be LA mary from now on.

    And now I have Jim Morrison (et al) on the brain…

    94 chars

  9. LA mary said on December 29, 2006 at 1:14 pm

    Brian, always bear in mind, I was born and bred in New Jersey, and that overrides all the LA-ness.

    98 chars

  10. basset said on December 29, 2006 at 6:40 pm

    I worked with a Robert Kolt at TV9/10 in Cadillac back in the late 70s, wonder if that’s him…

    95 chars