We’ve used the phrase “pull up a mink” several times recently. Why? Because the COVID-19 zombie mink culls brought it to our mind(s) and put it into our sentences. And also because we have a history of pulling up a mink, which, let us explain:
Longtime friend of the blog Calimaria had a townhouse near Casa Raincoaster. While she was able to enjoy a lovely garden apartment, she was not always able to keep the heat on in said apartment, an all-too-common occurence in Vancouver, with its overpriced housing market. I myself couldn’t keep the electricity on for four years.
Calimaria enjoyed a good cocktail as much as the next blogger (ie this one) and we used to get together on Fridays. I would bring over a pitcher of Manhattans (2:1 with lots of bitters) and as I entered she would say, “Pull up a mink!” and we would sit and chat for hours.
She had inherited a brown mink coat from her mother, and I had sold her (during a brief period of prosperity) my own mother’s blonde herringbone mink. So we would use the coats as lap rugs and enjoy a lovely visit. Yes, we talked about you.
‘Tis well known around these parts that we (this is the Royal We, you understand, unlike the Royal Wee, which is quite another thing entirely) enjoy a good pub. Occasionally, we even enjoy a terrible pub. The Pub as a social institution is near and dear to our hearts (yes, we has one…or several, if you count the ones buried in the basement). The Pub as a dispensary of alcohol is near and dear to our liver, and indeed, responsible for most our extra padding and a large number of our bad decisions over the years.
But enough about US!
Let us all, all of us, bow down to the true Queen of the Pubs. Contemporary Ireland may or may not be so hot on Queens as a group, but this specific one they must adore. And there can be no question that she will lead the country some day officially, as she leads and speaks for it now in an unofficial, volunteer capacity.
Behold the six-year-old Queen of All Pubs.
The six-year-old [unnamed, but surely it’s a grand Gaelic name] daughter of Jamie Moynihan would like to go to the pub, please. She cannot. BUT WHYYYYYY?
She has her makeup done and everything. Minnie got to go to the pub (for her dad’s birthday). Why can’t she go to the pub? The big kids go to the pub, and she’s SIX! SIX, Mummy!
“It’s my weekend off.”
If her mom lets her go to the pub, “I won’t go to the bingo anymore.”
This kid gets out a LOT more than I do.
Somebody crown her already, please. Can we drink to that?
Cheers to the Queen of Pubs!
Editor’s Note:
There, wasn’t that a fun little blog post? Delightful, delightful, if I do say so myself (and who else is gonna, I axe yez?). Now that I have your attention, I would like to draw same attention to some very important raincoasterish business, and that is
The Queen of Pubs can have my spot at the bar for the next 60 days at least, because this little cancer survivor is going to be doing what I’m doing now, which is sitting in an armchair drinking icewater with ginger bitters in it. Eating healthy things like vegan cabbage rolls. Taking vitamins and supplements. Working out. And, most importantly, raising money for the Canadian Cancer Society, which I will be doing by pointing you directly at the link to donate, a link of which you will avail yourselves, I am sure.
As always, sharing is caring, so whether or not you donate, sharing the link to one or more of your social networks would be greatly appreciated. My goal this year is to raise $500, and looks like I’ve already got my first donation. Start off the New Year doing something good for the world. Look, I have to suffer (have you ever tasted flat ice water with ginger bitters side-by-side with a good Scotch? Lemme tell you, I’m suffering) but you don’t. Not even with a guilty conscience.
Put out for me, Internet! Put out for the cancer patients! Put out for the Queen Of Pubs!
Apparently TCM is running The Thin Man, one of the truly great movies of the Thirties, featuring two of the truly greatest performances, those of William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles. And also, since it was released just after Prohibition was lifted, featuring an awful lot of every possible kind of booze, making it perfect for a drinking game.
So, without further ado, here is the drinking game I came up with. Basically, every time the characters toss back a Rock and Rye or a Martini or a raw slug straight out of the bottle, you take a drink, one relating to what they’re drinking at the time.
You will need a bottle of Scotch, white wine, Champagne, a cocktail spirit of your choice (we don’t recommend sticking with Scotch all the way through), one shot of Jaegermeister per person, a lot of the mixer of your choice, appropriate garnishes that should be pre-prepared because you’ll be too drunk later, cocktail glasses, highball glasses, wine glasses, champagne glasses, a cocktail shaker or pitcher depending on your preferred cocktail, cocktail ingredients of your choice.
For survivability’s sake, make all your cocktails and highballs singles, no more than 1 1/2 ounces of alcohol, and about 4-6 ounces of mixer. If you watch the movie, you’ll see that’s the standard size back then. The secret to the Six Martini Evening, as Nick knew and Nora discovered, is to keep to singles (which I was quite horrified to discover, bars still make unless you ask for a double. Huh. Imagine that. Ottawa; so very different from Vancouver).
It’s probably best to pre-mix a generous pitcher or shaker of cocktails before the movie starts. Keep lots of ice on hand as well, in case you get dehydrated or you bought the cheap Scotch. You will be drinking wine, taking shots, consuming cocktails, tossing back highballs, and quaffing Champagne. Should be quite a party.
Good luck getting to the end of the movie!
Seeing Nick and Nora have six martinis in the bar, DRINK A COCKTAIL
Looks like scotch and soda in the meeting with Macauley, DRINK A HIGHBALL
Nick handing out cocktails at the party, a dozen or so on a tray, so everyone have a COCKTAIL or HIGHBALL your choice
Nora handing out COCKTAILS at the party, have a COCKTAIL
Nick drinks a HIGHBALL although he appears to have had a few.
Nora hands the remaining cocktails to reporters. If you’re a reporter, bonus COCKTAIL! Only reporters drink this one.
Nick drinks Nora’s Rye COCKTAIL. Drink the cocktail of the person you came with. If you came alone, drink your own drink and re-examine your life choices.
Nora has a HIGHBALL she gives Dorothy. Give a highball to the person to your left.
Nick mixes himself another HIGHBALL. Drink a highball.
“maybe it’d help you to sleep” Nick pours himself a HIGHBALL and shotguns it, and you do the same.
Nora requests a drink, Nick makes her a straight SCOTCH which she doesn’t drink. Put the Scotch in front of you and leave it there. If you drink that Scotch, you lose this round, but only if someone is sober enough to notice.
Nick drinks her scotch, drink the drink of the person on your left. Now you’re even.
Nick gives her some straight SCOTCH to bring her around after he slugs her. Drink Scotch, but not the Scotch from earlier. This is a different one.
Nick slugs a lot of SCOTCH. You know what to do, assuming you’re still conscious.
Nora gives him a glass of HIGHBALL but drinks SCOTCH from the bottle. Twice. Do the same. (in Covid times, use an airplane-serving size bottle and don’t share)
Then he drinks the HIGHBALL in the tumbler. Do that.
Christmas morning, Nick drinks a HIGHBALL and you can have one too. Make me one while you’re up.
Nunhiem pours a SLUG for the Lt., Nick drinks it, and it’s nasty. TAKE A SHOT OF JAEGERMEISTER.
“It’s putting me way behind in my drinking” Nick has a HIGHBALL and you should as well.
Waiter/cop at dinner offers a COCKTAIL so have one.
Morelli drinks a glass of WHITE WINE because he fancy. You do it too.
Nick drinks some WHITE WINE, so have your second.
Glasses of CHAMPAGNE on the train. Wait, are you still here? Are you SURE you’ve been playing this game?
It’s time for a seriously cheesy, seriously un-serious movie starring one of the Great Old Ones of Hollywood: Lon Chaney Jr. He had a Freudianer, or at least Oedipalier time of it than most, as his father will be forever famous for his portrayals of various costumed monsters. Lon Jr started that way, too, as name recognition is quite useful when it comes to starting a career sometimes; he even changed his name from Creighton Tull Chaney to Lon Jr. He had to wait till his father was safely dead before stepping into his shoes, though. Soon enough he proved himself as a character actor and even, when cleaned up, a leading man, in one of my favorite oldie melodramas, The Shadow of Silk Lennox. But it was just so easy to get jobs in horror films.
His particular niche was slightly dumb, generably amiable, inadvertently sinister character roles. There were quite a lot of them to go around, too. Basically if it was insufficiently classy for Boris Karloff, Chaney got it. He’s most famous for playing the Wolf Man, although to my taste the Spaniard Paul Naschy was better at that role.
Here he is as the faithful servant of a decayed and sinister family in the weirdly mod (check out those opening credits!) 1967 horror flick Spider Baby, or The Maddest Story Ever Told! Someone needs to make an Austin Powers version of this, seriously. Or at least a Scooby Doo one.
In a dilapidated rural mansion, the last generation of the degenerate, inbred Merrye family lives with the inherited curse of a disease that causes them to mentally regress from the age of 10 or so on as they physically develop. The family chauffeur looks out for them and covers up their indiscretions. Trouble comes when greedy distant relatives and their lawyer arrive to dispossess the family of its home.
Bonus: CAROL OHMART! You remember her! From the Vincent Price 1959 classic The House on Haunted Hill (the one that was actually filmed IN the house reputed to be haunted)? She played the conniving trophy wife. Of COURSE she did; just look at her! Anyway, she’s another leading lady who could act rings around most, and who never enjoyed the success she deserved.
Carol Ohmart should have stayed a pantherian brunette rather than a leonine blonde
The suggested cocktail pairing with tonight’s gruesome entertainment is the White Spider Cocktail. Oh yes, there’s another version, but it’s made with vodka and therefore clearly inferior. We’ll wait while you mix yourself one…
No, really, the problem is I have no budget for anything fun lately. I’d better be paid by next Monday, because that’s Packing Up and Moving Into Storage Day, not yet a national holiday, and I am going to need to pay some bills by then, for srs. There’s no point in having all the funds in the world “in invoices” because as far as I know truck rental companies won’t take invoices in lieu of cash.
Nor will liquor stores, and I am going to CLEAR ONE OUT on the evening of the 25th, believe me.
raincoaster 