b Papa Dog's Blog: July 2007

Papa Dog's Blog

A Thing Wherein I Infrequently Write Some Stuff

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

A Brief Encapsulation of What's Wrong With America

Two-thirds of the front page of today's SF Chronicle is given over to an obit to some hockeyball guy I've never heard of and can't believe anybody else has either. In a tiny box below the fold is the headline about the passing of Ingmar Bergman. Bergman's obit got most of the front of the Datebook, granted, but still--what kind of world is it when the death of some random jock wrangler is considered that much more important than the passing of one of the absolute titans of 20th century cinema?

Monday, July 09, 2007

Rock Glasses

Back in the old millennium, when I was still a drinking man, I had a policy. Anytime a bar charged an outrageous amount for a cocktail, I would assume that the glass was included in the price. I think my cut-off point was five dollars… that seems a perfectly reasonable price now, but it struck me as exorbitant then. I gradually accumulated a diverse collection of rock glasses and, in one memorable incident, a martini glass from the New Orleans Room at the Fairmont Hotel. That last I still feel a little guilty about – you really expect a martini to be overpriced – but it seemed, for complicated reasons, like the thing to do at the time.

Recently, Baby Dog finally graduated from sippy cups. Mama Dog bought a passel of little plastic tumblers from the Internets, but they proved to be so lightweight that they were extra prone to spilling. Gradually, we settled into a routine wherein Baby Dog gets her water in the plastic tumblers but her milk in a small, bottom-heavy glass. It was only this morning that it occurred to me that all the small, bottom-heavy glasses are in fact rock glasses I purloined from bars years ago. You probably hate as much as I do stories whose only point is “isn’t life funny?” but hey – isn’t life funny? It sure never would have occurred to me back then that I was stealing milk glasses for my daughter.