Salt Lick Fourth; Drink Carta Blanca Beer


So. I hope everyone had a happy holiday, at least those of you who are American bred. I hope the rest of you had a decent Monday in my absence. We all went down to the Salt Lick BBQ- loaded the big cooler full of Carta Blanca beer, wine coolers for Mother, Margaritas for Aunt Hilda and the P-cubed, and a few bottles of San Pellegrino to counter dehydration– and took off.

Why, for shitsakes, my mother drinks wine coolers is way beyond me. But she’s from the east coast and I guess that might explain it. But Whiskey Girl is from the same approximate area and she doesn’t drink wine coolers. Can you even imagine steamed crabs and a fucking wine cooler?

My daddy called Mother’s drink of choice her “whine coolers” on account of every sip she takes of her sissy drink is preceded with a complaint of some fashion or another. Yesterday would have made a perfect example of what Daddy meant.

My big “guest” cooler, the one I use when we go out places, is a giant jobbie with rubber wheels. It came with plastic wheels that I managed to burn flat on the cooler’s first use. I had the guys in the shop out to Mooners Compost Plant put a steel axle and rubber tires on it for me. It glides like an ice skater over the most uneven terrain, and whenever we take it, we are requited to make reservations for “plus one” to accommodate the big rolling refrigerator.

I always serve the ladies at the table first, and in descending age. At yesterday’s meal that meant Gram was first, Aunt Hilda second, P-cubed third, then Mother. Gram and the P-cubed had a difficult time deciding if they wanted to juice-up first or maybe should they drink some water first. In an effort to keep the natives calm and collected, I served them each a beer, a Margarita and a cup of icy cold bubbly Italian water. It took awhile.

When I finally got to Mother, I twisted the cap off her apple-flavored sissy drink and handed her the bottle. “It’s about time,” Mother said as she took a small sip.

When the condensation dripped off the bottle onto her blouse she said, “Well for Pete sakes, Mooner, you could have wiped the bottle off for your mother,” second small sip.

She smacked her lips in simulated enjoyment of her beverage and said, “I would have brought cocktail napkins to save the ladies clothing if I was the one packing,” third small sip, grab a napkin (which was already in her lap), wipe of glass bottle with articulated precision– each stroke from top-downward with a last circle to clean the bottom.

“If you would just slow down and let me do the packing, son….,” was all she got out as she brought the bottle to her lips for a fourth taste before Gram piped up.

“Iffn we asked you ta do tha packing fer our picnics, we’d never have no fucking parties. By tha time tha boy’s could load the truckload a shit you’d pack, it be July 10th.” Gram cast an evil eye in Mother’s direction and added, “Now drink yer fucking Cool Ade an leave tha boy alone. Yer lucky he buys that shit fer ya.”

“Now you don’t need to be tacky, Gram,” my mother said. “I have a right to express my displeasure as much as the rest of you,” delayed fourth sip.

As she raised the bottle to her lips again, she started to say, “I just wish they had put us farther away from the smoke pit. I…”

That was all she got out as Gram leaned across the table to put more evil eye energy directly at Mother. “Humpf,” was my mom’s last word until the waiter brought our desserts.

We always do the family style and we always over-eat. It’s the American way. Food is always good at The Salt Lick so it’s a quality over eating.

Me, I had but two beers in the three hours we were there. At home that would have been at least a six pack meal, but I was driving the bus. SAC Ellen, however, was not driving. This was her first Johnson Family July 4th celebration and the little lady did herself proud. Did me proud too as I finally got some sexing when we got home last night.

I just heard that the woman who killed her little girl got off the hook down there to Florida. It rankles my sensibilities when someone like her, or that fuckwad OJ Simpson get away with murder. But I choke down my rancor and I thank the stars that our system of justice makes it difficult to put a person on death row. I don’t like death row and feel we need only life without parole to mete justice.

We send too many innocent people to the death chamber for me to be angry when the guilty go free.

If that woman was as guilty as I think, I hope she lives a miserable and tormented life. And Fuck Rick Perry too.

Manana, y’all.

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3 Responses to “Salt Lick Fourth; Drink Carta Blanca Beer”

  1. Squatlo says:

    “Whine Coolers…” I love that. Sounds like you have an industrial strength cooler for your larger hauling duties, but you might want to just invest in one with an engine and drive it to the parties instead of hauling the crew along. A two beer picnic is not my idea of fun, I don’t care who’s driving.

    I haven’t watched, read, or heard the first fact in the Anthony case, but everyone on FB has their panties in a wad over the verdict. Probably make a great Criminal Minds or CSI or Law and Order episode in a week or two. I’ve made a point to stay blissfully unaware of the whole thing.

    Just got in from snagging bluegill all day, and I’m one beer into my own party.
    Fuck Rick Perry…

  2. MOONER! You are NOT going to believe this!!! (You’d better listen up too, Squat!). I was in my favorite Mexican restaurant the other day – this real “legit” place where other Mexican folks go to eat…it’s fairly new here. And they serve THE FINEST food! (Squat: it’s called “Carmen’s Taqueria” – on Northfield – near Memorial – it’s an old bagel restaurant). Well, after the meal, when I went up to the counter (because you have to go up there to pay, they don’t bring you the check) – I noticed the selection of beers they had available. I SHIT YOU NOT – RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF MY EYES WAS A BOTTLE OF CARTA BLANCA! I nearly shat myself with excitement! I really did think you had made that beer up!! Of course, since dinner was OVER, I didn’t get a chance to drink one – but no worries, I will be going there again soon, and damned skippy if I don’t order me up a Carta Blanca and start screaming, “Fuck Rick Perry!” just for you!!!

  3. admin says:

    Squat. Sometimes I hire a driver to handle the duties and free me to be me. But I occasionally choose to be restrained. Gives me a certain sense of control. And sanity.

    Reck. While I find it unsettling that you have doubted my veracity, my cockles are warmed with the obvious pleasure you received with your discovery of the world’s finest beer. And your finding it at an authentic Mexican cafe is karma at its best.

    Please send me a pic of you in Carmen’s place enjoying a cold Carta Blanca beer. I have almost gotten my site ready to accept photos and I want to do a dealie to have people send pics of them drinking my favorite beer and I’ll print them here. As I firmly beleive that your rich skin tones are a perfect complement to the Carta Blanca bottle, the more skin the better. Just saying.

    Fuck Rick Perry!

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