Taste Test

I will confess that I am no longer the beer drinker I used to be.  [pause to let howls of rude laughter from The Englishman and the other regulars at the King’s Arms to die down]  Seriously, I have.

As I’ve matured in years, I’ve moved on to spirits like gin, Scotch and [list of spirits redacted because of length]. Nevertheless, I still enjoy a beer or two or three, depending on a) the beer and b) the company I’m socializing with.

My besetting problem is that I just cannot find a decent beer in the U.S. that can hold a candle to English beer, specifically ales such as Wadworth 6X, Fuller’s London Pride or even Boddington’s.  The last tastes completely differently Over Here compared to its regular domicile Over There;  I suspect it doesn’t travel well in cans — does any beer? — and although London Pride does not suffer the same fate, I either have to go rooting for it in divers liquor stores hereabouts — it does not have good distribution — or else head to The Londoner several miles away, which means I can’t drive back because, well, pints.

And I don’t want to drive all the way up to Boulder CO just to buy Wadworth 6X because quite frankly, it’s sold in cans and even 6X liketh the cans not (when I’ve drunk them Over There), and I’m not going to drive a thousand miles or whatever it is, only to find shit beer at the end of it.

Likewise, I’m not interested in touring the “craft” breweries around here (even though there are dozens) because in the past I’ve discovered that recommendations from others always fall short.  (Readers please take note before you offer up suggestions in Comments.)

I’ve often thought that Mexican Modelo Negro is the closest in taste to the English ales, but until now I’ve never bothered to test the hypothesis.  So as a public service, I set one up.  Here are the culprits:

As you can see, the Negro is considerably darker than the Pride, and drunk side by side, it has a harshly-bitter taste compared to the English ale.  (I should also add that I got rid of some of the Negro’s fizz, and let it warm up just a little from refrigerator temperature as I did with the Pride.  Don’t tell me I shouldn’t do that, by the way:  I loathe fizzy drinks of any kind, and dislike ice-cold beer unless drunk on a hot day in South Africa, when I drink Castle Lager in any case.)

The worst thing about the Negro (speaking from past experience) is that after just two or three of the things, my mouth starts to taste like I’ve been drinking vulture vomit and I’m forced to change to something better-tasting or at least a little sweeter (e.g. gin, dark rum & Coke or Southern Comfort), and we ahem  experienced drinkers all know where that action takes us.  That taste, by the way, never happens to me when I’m drinking beer in England and once embarked on a course of 6X or London Pride I stick with it, as many of the aforesaid denizens of Wiltshire and London may attest.

Mr. Free Market doesn’t frequent pubs all that often, as he doesn’t like getting “full” on beer, and drinking whisky at British pub prices makes too huge a dent in even his capacious wallet.  So when I go Over There, we end up drinking either in his garden (in summer) or his living room (all other times) and because there’s no driving involved, only stair-climbing (don’t ask how many stairs are involved in negotiating Free Market Towers), I end up getting a lot more shitfaced than I do at the King’s Arms, where I generally have to call time after only half a dozen pints so I can find my way home, wherever that is.  No such restriction exists at the Towers, which means I have, on occasion, had to sleep (okay, pass out) in one of the several living rooms or parlors that are scattered about the ground floor.

Anyway, what disturbs me in all this was a conversation I once had with Mr. FM, in which he confessed that he’d rather lost his taste for beer — and the awful thought occurred to me that perhaps I may be heading in that direction too.

So, Readers:  have any of you discovered a similar scenario in your drinking?  (As always, I’m not interested in hearing from casual drinkers or teetotalers:  your opinions are as those of a virgin on sex etiquette at an orgy.)  Let’s hear from The Well-Exercised Elbow Set.

News Roundup

…summarized for your convenience.


nobody laugh, because we’re quite capable of doing the same here.  Remember these assholes?


“We had to kill a few people to save them from spreading Covid.”  Now where have I heard something like that before?


wouldn’t pay 300 cents for it, but that’s just me.


and she looks pretty much as you’d expect her to look.


because only socialists can be racist, you see.


there he goes, trying to live up to everyone’s expectations of him.  Moron.


you have to sympathize with the photographer: 


That’s Mayor Lightweight with ILGov Fatboi in the background.  No matter which one you choose to blur, the pic’s going to be a fucking nightmare
.

As an aside, I want to dispel the rumor that if you look the Mayor in the eye, you’ll be turned to stone.  I can guarantee that upon looking at her, not a single part of your body will start to harden.  To continue:


they mean “testing”, but we’ve been down this road before.  Try saying “Tesco’s trialling trollies” six times in a row after a couple cocktails, I dare ya.


thus completely ignoring anyone who did anything actually, you know, athletic over the past year.  Like anyone gives a flying fuck what Sports Illustrated thinks or does anyway.


I know where it is:  it’s been smuggled into China.  Prove me wrong.


and never an errant daisycutter bomb when you need oneYou’d think the Russkis would have been all over this target of opportunity, but noooo.

And if you think out TV is bad in the U.S., try the U.K.:

Here’s something from our TV to cheer you up (no, it’s not “The Hanging Of George Soros”  on Bravo, sorry):

Her name is Bárbara Bermudo and yes, she’s on that Mex channel, Univision.

I’m trying to be “inclusive”, here.

Gratuitous Gun Pic: Carcano Model 91TS (6.5x52mm)

While browsing through Collectors recently, I came upon this old girl:

I have often sung the praises of the Mosin-Nagant M44 as a short and handy carbine, but I have to say, the Carcano (often incorrectly called the Mannlicher-Carcano) Model 91TS as pictured would do pretty well in the same role.  I’ve shot quite a few in my time — one even back in South Africa — and what impressed me most is the pure handiness of the carbine.  One of the common complaints about battlefield carbines is their recoil — less mass means more recoil, because Sir Isaac Newton will not be denied — but the M91’s little 6.5x52mm cartridge is an absolute gem, and I have no idea why the Italian Army replaced it with the larger (and not much more effective) 7.35x51mm cartridge in the reworked Model 38.  (Maybe they thought that size mattered.)

Anyway, that long, thin 156gr boolet means excellent sectional density and therefore quite adequate penetration on humans:

…but as with all old cartridges, there’s always that availability problem.  And with the state the ammo industry is in now, it’s even more scarce than usual.  Graf & Sons, normally my go-to guys when it comes to old military ammo, doesn’t have any in stock (surprise, surprise) and even when they do, it runs about $2 per trigger pull — unless you go with the lighter Prvi Partizan variant at a very reasonable $0.83 per round.

Had I known then what I know now (back in the early- to mid-2000s a.k.a. The Happy Times), I’d have snapped up a decent M91 carbine for about $95, which is about what they cost back then compared to over $400 nowadays, and a few hundred rounds of ammo for less than half of what it costs now.

But that hindsight is a bugger, innit?  Here’s the much-longer M91 rifle, just for comparison’s sake:

Way Too Much

Insty posted a link to the Car & Driver  long-term road test of the Porsche Cayenne SUV, and while I am generally a fan of Porsche (other than their Germanic penchant for over-engineering and the fact that all their cars are pig-ugly), there were still a couple of things pointed out in the study which set my teeth on edge, to whit:

The perfect long-term car is one that delivers 40,000 happy miles, and our 2019 Cayenne is well on its way to achieving that platonic ideal. It’s never left us stranded, and so far all of our gripes have been handled by the dealer.

You know what?  That reliability is a given nowadays, thanks to manufacturers like Honda and Toyota,  In fact, after shelling out the ~$100K for a fucking SUV, I would demand that nothing breaks in the first 40,000 miles.  But that’s not the end of it.

While that 10K service and recall work didn’t come with an invoice, the 20,000-mile service reminded us that Porsche ownership is just as expensive as it sounds. It set us back $632. In addition to the work done at the 10K visit, the 20K visit calls for replacement of both the cabin and the engine air filters. The dealer also replaced some worn-out wipers for $82.

I know, I know:  if you can’t afford the maintenance, don’t buy the car.  Over six hundred for a lousy 20k service, and eighty-plus bucks for a pair of windshield wipers?   Ah don’ theenk so, Manfred.

But that’s not the worst of it.  Enter the most useless fucking technology ever inflicted on car owners, all for the sake of eco-consciousness:

An aggressive stop-start system often kills the engine too early, and the restart occasionally comes with a horrible driveline thud. Disabling stop-start eliminates the thud, but we can’t help but wonder if the occasional transmission stumble on cold mornings is related and a sign of something else going on with the ZF automatic.

I have said it before, and I’ll say it again:  if I buy any car, this stupid stop-start bullshit would be turned off before I left the dealership.  (And if it couldn’t be turned off permanently, it’s to a different car brand I’d be going.)  As for the Cayenne, any kind of “driveline thud” is a Bad Thing.  I can’t believe the C&D testers didn’t address the issue after the first hundred miles, let alone after forty thousand.  (Don’t even get me started on the engineering philosophy behind an “aggressive stop-start system, or we’ll be here all day.)

I seldom pay much attention to new-car tests because all new cars are going to be okay.  It’s the long-term tests that are interesting because that’s what exposes faulty materials, engineering or design.

And I’m sorry, but all the joys of “90mph cruising” (with the concomitant shitty fuel consumption) don’t  compensate for all the above.

Synchronized

One of the things that always amazed me was that in any random group of more than a dozen people, the odds of at least two people sharing a birthday were so good it didn’t merit making book — it was almost a dead cert.

But on this 7th day of December, it still amazes that I have three people in my immediate circle of family / close friends who share a birthday today:  Longtime Friend Trevor, step-daughter-in-law Kerryn and step-nephew Mark — all South Africans, by the way.

And only one of them turned 21:

…although it was Mark, not Kerryn who reached that milestone.  She, however, gets this one:

…and lastly, Trevor’s:

I said he was one of my oldest friends…

Happy birthday to all of you !!!!