Monday, July 12 – Sunday, July 19
The Week in Not Much: My AC is out and I’m cranky so I don’t have much of a weekly wrap up. As I sweat and drink ice water, I keep picturing Paul Newman in both Cat on a Hot Tin Roof or Cool Hand Luke and I know it’s gonna be all right!
The Week in New Rules: One great thing about the Covid Era is the relaxation of some nanny state rules like open container and other liquor restrictions. One day this week I plotted my post dinner walk to come to an end near Pony OTR so I could walk the final blocks while sipping a beer. The only restriction was that I couldn’t take the opened can; they had to pour it in a cup. I expect bull-shitty things like that to disappear soon, too.
The new rules also allow take-out cocktails. Japps OTR is open for both “drink in” or take out. It is the only place I’ve stepped into during the Covid Era that seems like a respite and not an anxiety producer. And their cocktails to-go are even having the same effect.
This week I brought my Mom two Manhattan’s from Japp’s. Mom doesn’t leave the house except once a week to grocery shop. Because of Covid, she doesn’t get to go out for her weekly lunch and obligatory Chardonnay. On grocery day, I take her a variety of foods I’ve cooked or bought at the Findlay Market to giving her variety for her meals through out the week and I thought Manhattans would be fun to bring to her.
I don’t know if my Mom has ever drank a Manhattan. Her idea of a cocktail is a Fuzzy Navel or a Long Island Iced Tea. She may have had a bourbon slush or a Mint Julep but her liquor drink of choice is vodka on the rocks. She was surprised to see the two drinks in her weekly supply bag and thought she was supposed to pour them together, like one huge DIY cocktail. I explained that she was not supposed to pour them together, nor was she supposed to drink them both in one night. I stressed how strong they were. To my surprise, she did patiently take two nights to drink both cocktails. Not to my surprise, she loved drinking them now wants me to bring her one every week. I will. That is a small bit of Covid joy.
The Week in Hair, Long Beautiful Hair: In the Covid Era I’m going for haircuts every 12 weeks instead of every 8. That means for weeks 8-12 I wake up every morning and look in the mirror to see Barry Gibb’s 1978 hair. To clarify, because there’s a lot of hair to take in in the photo, his 1978 head of hair is my Covid Era bedhead. #NightFever #CovidLife
Again, this week’s top story, my AC is out. Have a great week!
Nothing Ever Happens on My Street 