George Carlin & smores
George Carlin did two shows at the Paramount Theater Friday night. He’s probably got a Taurus Sun, Gemini Moon, Mercury closely conjunct… and more than likely, a Leo Rising.
It was supposed to be big night out, but after the mistakes at the office, some mine, some belonging to other people (but me getting blamed for), I wasn’t much in the mood for anything. The warm up guy was funny enough, but George Carlin was quite good, although, in deference to my buddies, Bubba and Bubba, I decided to act really important and leave the cell phone and pager behind.
Took a few minutes for Mr. Carlin to warm me up, but sitting in Bubba’s opera box seats, that sure did help. And the famous humorist did deliver. Vulgar, profane, and by the second half, I was laughing at just about everything he said. Well worth the price of admission, if you ask me.
To end the night, I had it on good authority that the humidor at what used to be Ruta Maya was getting in some good, inexpensive cigars. Some robustos, quality cigars of a certain flavor and vintage. We all trooped over there, I had myself one more tall Egg Nog Latte for the evening while puffing on first a Punch then a Romeo y Julieta.
I couldn’t help but notice that the folks sitting next to us had a platter served with a delicate, miniature barbecue grill going. Alongside the tiny grill, looked like something from an old-style Chinese restaurant, there were graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bar.
Just when the I get that feeling that the “old Austin spirit” has died, about the time I figure it’s time to find a new home where innovation and creative spirit are nurtured, I encounter a Cancer girl trying to explain smores.
Okay, let’s take it from the top. We all know what smores are. Burn a marshmallow, squeeze the hot, sticky mess off the stick and slap it between two graham crackers, layer in some chocolate, and you’re good to go.
When I got home, I looked for a smores web page, and I was saddened by the fact that Google really didn’t offer much.
We did entreat the Cancer to explain the process at some point, but boys will be boys, and those two, Bubba y Bubba, wound up burning their marshmallow and making a pretty good mess.
I stuck to a cigar and coffee, a much safer-certainly cleaner-alternative.
It was a cold night. Walking back to the various cars, several lines from the standup routine came back again. And that one lad, I couldn’t help but chide him some, I mean, beer and smores? Does it get any more (something) than this?
