RED HOT

Ridgetop Red, an Amber Ale by Silver City Restaurant & Brewery

16 ounces on tap.

This amber ale was delivered to my bar stool in a shaker glass. It was honey orange with a thin white head. The aroma was light—light caramel malts and light paper. The flavor was similar, with an additional nuttiness. There was the faintest hint of vinegar as it warmed, which wasn't bad, just unexpected. The mouthfeel was medium. This was a good, solid amber ale, but nothing to write home about. For me, it was a wee bit light on too many levels.

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The Red Hot by The Red Hot

This is The Red Hot's signature hot dog. It is an all beef hot dog served on a poppyseed bun and accompanied by yellow mustard, relish, and diced onions. It is like the light version of The Chicago. If you are not a fan of pickles, peppers, or tomatoes on your hot dog, then this is for you. Otherwise, fork over the extra 50¢ and go for The Chicago.

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The Chicago by The Red Hot

This was an excellent version of The Chicago. An all beef hot dog was served on a poppyseed bun and buried beneath condiments and vegetables—yellow mustard, neon green relish, diced onions, a tomato wedge, two sports peppers, a pickle spear, and a sprinkling of celery seed. This was the highlight of the meal.

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The main drawback to The Red Hot is that it is a bar, so I can't go there for hot dogs unless I am solo, which is seldom. The wife is not a fan of hot dogs, while the child is. That means that we will probably be sticking closer to home and eating our Chicago-style hot dogs at Lucky's Hot Dog Diner, since the child and I are both allowed in. I can't have a beer at Lucky's, but that is a minor complaint if I can enjoy a wonderful hot dog with all the fixin's.

BACHELOR DAY

Sunday was bachelor day. The wife and child went to spend time with the mother-in-law. That meant that after a morning of church, the afternoon and evening were mine to spend alone. It was time for books, art, and beer. It was a time to wander.


I went out for my second round of disc golf. It would involve wind and rain, both in fair amounts. It would also involve wandering the woods of White River with John, whom I happened to meet at the course. He asked if he could "jump on" to my game at the third hole and then the two of us were off throwing our discs through the trees. I played a 78 "stroke" game on a par 54 course (of 18 holes). I figured that wasn't too bad for a beginning player, especially since I was usually only one or two throws behind John.

(In the above picture, people who aced that particular hole have written their names and the date they played disc golf on the basket pole in permanent marker.)


Lunch consisted of hot dogs and beer at Tacoma's Red Hot. I had one eponymous Red Hot and one Chicago dog along with a Silver City Ridgetop Red amber ale. You cannot go wrong with beer and hot dogs!


I then spent some time wandering among the plants and flowers of the W.W. Seymour Botanical Conservatory in Tacoma's Wright Park. This was partly as research for a story I am writing and partly to enjoy some beautiful and artistically manicured flowers—a respite from the howling wind and driving rain on the other side of the conservatory glass.


Finally, it was off to my favorite local bookstore to poke around the shelves. I browsed, petted the bookstore cats Miko and Atticus, and finally selected The North Pole: A Narrative History edited by Anthony Brandt. After leaving King's Books it was off to home to read for a few hours and enjoy some quiet in the house.

STINGRAY

My second disc golf disc—an Innova DX Stingray mid-range disc. Neon orange, 168 grams.

(This replaces my first disc golf disc that I owned for an hour-and-a-half before it was swallowed up by the White River. It was bright red Innova DX Stingray, 165 grams. RIP.)

WHITE RIVER DISC GOLF COURSE

The child and I headed to the White River disc golf course in Auburn after purchasing our first discs. My plan was just to throw a few random holes while we walked the course to get a feel for its layout.

We followed a few of the guys we had seen in Mando's Disc Golf Pro Shop to the first hole. The child and I watched them throw their discs. Then one of them, slightly older than the other two, probably in his late forties, introduced himself to me as Larry and invited me to play with them. I explained that I had never played before and was just here to observe and maybe throw my disc around a little bit. He told me that the best way to learn the game was to play a round with people who had played before, which meant with him, Thomas, and Trev. He insisted.

It was good that I had Larry to hang out with. He acted as a mentor to me. He showed me how to properly hold the disc for a backhand throw. He explained rules and terms to me. He pointed out where baskets were located. He encouraged me as I played.

At the third hole, Thomas and Trev decided they wanted to play through, partly because I was slowing down the game. (They didn't state this, but I could tell.) Larry said he would stay with me. It worked out well.

Larry and I played a full round—eighteen holes of disc golf, mostly in the middle of the woods. I learned about "tree love," when your disc hits a tree but it helps your shot. I learned about "tree-nial," when your disc hits a tree and its hinders your shot. I learned how to hold the disc at different angles to get a desired result out of a throw. I learned how to square my shoulders with the basket and follow-through with my throw.

At the sixteenth hole, as we played alongside the White River, a bad throw sent my new Stingray disc (and the only one I had) into the river. My disc was swallowed up.

Larry let me borrow two of his beginner friendly discs—a Champion Leopard fairway driver and a Champion Sidewinder distance driver—so that I could finish the round. (In fact, the Champion Leopard was the first disc he ever owned.) Not only did this wonderful act of grace allow me to finish the game, but it also allowed me to throw two other discs "in the field," and notice their differences in weight and flight characteristics.

On the seventeenth hole, Larry also showed me how to hold and throw the disc sidearm. It felt awkward, but also let me see how the disc turned to the right rather than to the left (as in a backhand throw). It also gave me something to practice.

So I was able to play a full 18-hole round with someone that took time out of his own game (who slowed down to help out a disc golf virgin) to teach me things I would not have necessarily learned on my own for some time.

Thank you Larry!


(1) The marker near the tee pad for hole number 16.


(2) The spot where the White River swallowed up my first (and only) disc.


(3) The basket for hole number 16.


(4) The tee sign for hole number 17.


(5) Looking down the fairway from tee pad number 17.

MANDO'S DISC GOLF PRO SHOP

Troy's Work Table has been trying to find low-impact activities that involve a lot of walking. This is partly to address some lower back issues, partly to get some exercise, and partly to shed a few unwanted pounds. Therefore, TWT has been doing a lot of walking. But TWT also wanted to try out disc golf to see if walking could be paired with an activity that would "jazz it up" a bit.

So, the child and I found ourselves in downtown Auburn at Mando's Disc Golf Pro Shop. I had visited their website prior to heading down, but I wasn't sure what to expect.

When we arrived, the place was filled with young men in their twenties and thirties. I was easily the oldest person there. The child and I poked around through display rack after display rack of brightly colored plastic discs. There were discs of many colors—blue, lavender, crimson, orange, pink, green, yellow, off-white. Some were opaque; some were translucent. There were discs of many different plastics. Some were more flexible, some less so; some had more grip, feeling rubbery, and some had less grip, feeling harder.

I was overwhelmed.

The owner sensed this, came over, introduced herself as Mary, and asked how she could help me. I told her that I wanted to try out disc golf, but didn't quite know where to start. She said that she could definitely set me up with my first disc.

Mary wandered about the racks. She selected about ten discs and handed me the stack. She pointed to a disc golf basket in the back corner of the store and told me to start throwing the discs at it to see which of them felt the best to me. I threw the discs. She asked me which one felt the best both in my hand and upon throwing it. I told her the red one. She grabbed two more discs and had me throw them. Was the red one still the best? Yes. She told me that was my new disc. I could now go try disc golf and if I didn't like it then I was only out eight dollars.

I purchased my Innova DX Stingray multipurpose/mid-range disc, along with a Ching Juju mini-disc for the child to throw around. I thanked Mary for her help and the child and I headed off to the White River disc golf course at Auburn's Game Farm Wilderness Park.

FRITZ

The child and I found our way to Bremerton's waterfront and into the warm nest of Fritz's European Fry House. We perched upon the tall bar stools in the front window to enjoy Belgian fries, deep-fried battered cod, deep-fried chicken strips, and drinks while we watched the cold winter wind blow leaves about in the courtyard.

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Supergoose IPA, an Imperial/Double IPA from Hale's Ales

On tap, 16 ounces, served in shaker glass, $3.50 per pint.

I assume that Supergoose refers to this being a hopped-up version of Hale's Mongoose IPA, which, as far as I can tell, appears to be true.

Color: Hazy orange core with a hazy yellow-orange aura, topped with a thin white head. Small dots and lines of lacing are left behind.

Nose: I smell, in this order: a can of pineapple chunks, apricot, and a whiff of citrus.

Palate: The flavors include bitter orange that borders on grapefruit, pineapple, apricot, and a hint of hay. The heavy bitterness lingers in the finish. The fruit sweetness is almost too much, but it actually complemented the dipping sauces for my fries rather well. The spiciness of the Spicy Curry Ketchup and Sweet Chili sauces toned down the sweetness of this ale and really let the hoppy bitterness shine through.

I rather enjoyed this ale. It was interesting and played nicely with my fried foods.

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The child enjoyed fish and chips with Tartar and Honey Dijon dipping sauces. Troy's Work Table enjoyed a chicken and fries basket with Spicy Curry Ketchup and Sweet Chili dipping sauces. The sauces are half the fun of eating the fries at Fritz. They have been selected to get the most enjoyment out of the fries, as well as complement the beers on tap or available in bottles.

If you ever end up at the Bremerton waterfront for lunch or dinner, then please skip the nearby fast food chains and enjoy some good fried food, wonderful sauces, and a pint or two at Fritz. Cheers!

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The bonus is that your clothes and hair will carry the heavenly scent of deep fryer oil for a few hours. You can relive your eating experience as you wander about looking at boats or seagulls or the fountains of the Harborside Fountain Park.

THIS IS NOT YOUR MOM'S BREMERTON

The child and I wandered around downtown Bremerton on Sunday evening after a round of Belgian fries and ale at Fritz European Fry House.


(1) Bremerton Harborside.


(2) One of the five fountain sculptures of Harborside Fountain Park.


(3) Traffic disembarking from the Seattle to Bremerton ferry.


(4) New Delhi Indian Cuisine, 221 Washington Avenue.


(5) The unlit neon sign for the now defunct Nite Shift Tavern, 242 Burwell Street.


(6) The Admiral Theatre, 515 Pacific Avenue.


(7) Looking at the corner where the old Woolworth's building once resided, Burwell Street and Pacific Avenue.


(8) The Dietz Building, former home to Harbor Books, Fourth Street and Pacific Avenue.


(9) Display windows of the Amy Burnett Gallery, 296 Fourth Street.


(10) On Pacific Avenue looking toward the corner of First Street and Pacific Avenue, former home to tattoo parlors, a vinyl record store, taverns, and the downtown Bremerton McDonald's.

on THE TAPHANDLE

Liberty Ale, an American Pale Ale by Anchor Brewing Company

12 ounce bottle, served in lager glass, $2.24 per pint.

First of all, this is a beautiful ale. An extremely clear yellow body was capped by two-fingers-thick of foamy white head, which mostly hangs around. The head leaves behind sporadic bands of lacing. The body is filled with active streams of tiny bubbles.

But it's like the hot chick with the crappy personality. You don't really want to hang out with her; you just want to get into her pants. Once there, you realize the mistake you have made, and then its too late.

Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't a horrible ale. It's not even bad. It's just kind of average. I can imagine a lot of other beers I would rather drink.

A few nice things about the nose and palate, though. The aroma is coriander and light floral. The flavor is floral and grassy, but not quite as bitter as I expected, which was a minor disappoinment. Light and tingly carbonation, from those aforementioned bubbles, leads into a light, crisp, and clean finish.

Would I have it again? Probably not, although I would take it over a macrobrew.

SPRING APPROACHES

The child and I spent some time wandering around on the Puyallup Riverwalk Trail today. The temperature was still cold (around 44°F) but sunny.


(1) Crocus growing in recently deposited river silt.


(2) Mount Rainier as seen from near the skate park.


(3) Trail marker #6.


(4) The Puyallup River Bridge, Meridian Avenue.


(5) Volunteer trail maintenance and repair


(6) Recently repaired trail.


(7) Cottonwood tree line.


(8) River rocks.


(9) The Puyallup River, looking west.


(10) The sun and blue sky.

15 ALBUMS - THE LATER YEARS

There is a "note" circulating on Facebook that reads:

"Think of 15 albums, CDs, LPs that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life."

I normally don't participate in such things, but found this particular "note" to be an interesting look back at the music that helped "create" the "person" that I am today.

The final four of the fifteen are from my adult years...

Raising Hell
by Run-D.M.C.
1986

This was the album that officially declared my freedom from the cliques and stereotypes of high school. Now I could be something more than just a "punker." I had been listening to rap music since junior high, but always slightly on the sly in high school. Otherwise, ridicule would be heaped upon me. I had enjoyed previous Run-D.M.C. albums, as well as albums from The Egyptian Lover, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Afrika Bambaataa and the Soulsonic Force, Newcleus, and many others. But this was something new. If there was a "punk rock" version of hip hop, then this was it. It included bells and horns and tinkling percusssion. It included rock guitar and the members of Aerosmith. It was brash and bold and slightly crazy. It was definitely something new. If Adam Ant's Friend or Foe was a "break" of sorts and The Alarm's Declaration was the subsequent declaration of freedom, then Raising Hell served as both during this phase of my life, as I left high school and childhood behind and looked forward into adulthood.

The Ideal Copy
by Wire
1987

I had heard Wire songs here and there during junior high and high school because their first three albums were seminal punk and post-punk albums, but it they somewhat "before my time." The Ideal Copy changed all of that for me. These songs sounded both fresh and familiar. They were laced with obscure lyrics and grounded in guitar, bass, drums, and vocals. They were also filled with effects and manipulations and experiments. I was hooked. I sought out the first three albums. I anticipated (and continue to anticipate) each new album. I listened to side projects and solo albums. Wire captured my imagination in ways that few bands prior or since have done. I easily rank them as my favorite band. The Ideal Copy was a statement announcing their return after a lengthy hiatus, and the beginning of Wire, Mark II. This was essentially an updated Pink Flag (their debut album). The energy and seething and rawness was there, as well as the intellect. I repeat: I was hooked.

Turn on the Bright Lights
Interpol
2002

I figured that once I hit a certain age it would be difficult to discover new music that felt as intriguing and compelling as the music of my youth and young adulthood. I was wrong. Interpol sounded very much like the music I grew up with, without duplicating it verbatim. There are new ideas here. There are new sounds here. There are lyrics that twist around themselves and whisper their dark secrets. This is post-9/11 New York post-punk music that sings back at the horror that tried to swallow the city and the nation. The music is haunting at times, rocking at others, both on occasion. And "Roland" is pure genius.

Volk
by Laibach
2006

Laibach are provocateurs. They are also willing to take risks. Volk sounds nothing like any of their previous albums, yet it is their most mature work. Gone, for the most part, are the hyperactive techno tracks and the Wagnerian horns and the growling baritone of Milan Frans. Instead these fourteen "rethought" national anthems are filled with areas of relative quiet punctuated by rock guitar or traditional ethnic instrumentation. The tempo has greatly slowed. This is partly due to the collaboration with fellow Slovenian band Silence. It is also partly due to the fact that Laibach are as provocative in these new spaces they have carved out as they were when they were overtly confrontational. I think the subtlety and quiet subversion suits this album well. If there was ever a band that could challenge the powers-that-be in the post-9/11 global free trade free-for-all that is our current geopolitical setting, and do it with the tools of those very nation-states, then Laibach is the band. Challenge your own worldview with an album. You deserve it.

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15 ALBUMS - THE EARLY YEARS

15 ALBUMS - THE HIGH SCHOOL YEARS