Blog entries for RB8

St. Louis: Can love triumph over Anheuser-Busch?

RB8 — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 20:57:27 GMT

I visit the city of Chicago a lot, and I am asked one question more than any other, "Is Bud Light ok?" The answer invariably is, "No. It's against my religion to drink Bud". Unlike Milwaukee, Chicago is not dominated by Miller. Often times I order a Miller Lite only to be asked the above question. Despite my clear disdain for the beer from the south I cannot completely hate the city of St. Louis. It was in St. Louis that my parents met at a periodontal convention and the rest is history......

It was late July in 1969. It was after the moon landing, and before the Manson Family murders and Woodstock. My father wore a hideous brown leisure suit, a Beatles haircut, and a bushy mustache similar to Milwaukee legend Rollie Fingers. My mother, a gnome of a person, was sporting a Canadian tuxedo (denim jacket and jeans) as was the style of the times. They both had traveled from Milwaukee for the American Dental Association's annual periodontal convention. My father had just begun his career in Milwaukee as a periodontist, and my mother was earning a living as a dental hygienist in the "Brew City" as well. Little did they know that it would be the gateway to the west that would bring them together.

Whenever I hear the flat-landers from the south, and the lake-dwellers from the north, use the term "Pop" I want to pin them to the ground and make them take it back. The bubbly soft drink we all love is most definitely a soda. Take, for instance, the earliest purveyors of the drink, and notice that they were called "Soda Fountains". Crown Candy Kitchen in the heart of St. Louis is one of these establishments. It also was the first place my parents ever saw each other. Established in 1913, the hosts of the ADA event, decided it would be a great place for visitors to stop and grab a snack. Every attendee of the convention was given a coupon for a free candy turtle, and a soda from Crown. It just so happened that my parents walked to redeem their's at the same time. My dad, nervous at first, noticed my mom had a coupon and realized he had an icebreaker. He approached her and asked about her coupon. The two hit it off immediately and shared a casual walk back to the hotel for the evenings festivities. The spent a lot of time together in St. Louis, and vowed to stay in touch when they got back to Milwaukee. Stay in touch they did, and they have been married for the past 28 years.

I have heard this story many times from my parents. They are always telling me about how they met in St. Louis, and how they began dating when they got back to Milwaukee. Because of this fact it is hard for me to not want to visit the city that contributed to my birth. If I ever go to St. Louis I will drink not but Miller Lite, and wear not but Brewers apparel. I will sing the praises of Facade of the Art Museum as a marvel more impressive than the Arch. However, the very first place I will go will be to Crown Candy Kitchen where I will get a root beer and a Turtle Candy.

Mr. Kint

"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist"

The Year Was 1996....

RB8 — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 16:14:33 GMT

When I think about the phrase "not that long ago" I always revert to the summer of 1996. I'm not sure why. It was 13 years ago, but it is a summer I will never forget... forget... forget... get... get... get...

-(Que music) "... it's like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife. It's like meeting the man of your dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife..."
-(Fade from black as 60-year old man loads up suburban for road trip from Milwaukee to Atlanta)

-(News anchor man in the background): "Continuing our coverage of this morning's breaking news... there was a bombing in Centennial Park in Atlanta. There are no suspects, but police believe this to be an isolated incident"

I rise from my slumber and swing my legs over my bed. I sit for a minute in my bed shaped like a vintage 1968 Corvette stingray. There is a slight protrusion from the front of my undies making Optimus Prime seem like he is in 3-D. I groggily wander towards my bathroom for a brisk morning brush of the old pearly whites. I grab my tube of crest and spread it evenly across my Oral-b "Reach" toothbrush. After a minute or two of brushing, and a scrape of the foliate papillae, I throw on my finest two-toned Umbros and head to the kitchen.

"Family meeting!" It appears the old man is becoming a bit apprehensive about our trip due to the morning's breaking news. You see WE were headed to the Olympics in Atlanta. Now we were on the brink of spending the next two weeks listening to Bob Costas wax poetic about the merits of women's rowing. However, like all true sports fans no stinking bomb was going to scare us from enjoying the once in a lifetime opportunity that is the summer games.

(Que Music): "And I said what about Breakfast at Tiffany's? She said "I think I remember the film, and as I recall I think we both kind of liked it." And I said "Well that's one thing we've got"

Day 1: MMMMMM.... Coke. The city of Atlanta is known for a couple of things: Heat, traffic, and Coca-Cola. We were most interested in the brown bubbly because being from Milwaukee we couldn't handle the other two. I walked casually through the front doors of the Coca-Cola building excited about touring the wonderful world of Coke. The tour was amazing, and years later I would think about how jealous my math teacher would be of me if she only knew. The woman drank four cans of diet coke per day. Her cheap perfume could hardly mask the smell.

(Que music): "We're coming through your town, Move your arm up and down, And make that choo choo sound, like this..."

Day 2: GOAL!!!!! Finally we get to see some events. Luckily, we struck gold in the lottery and our first set of tickets were for the Bronze and Gold medal men's soccer games. The bronze medal game occurred with little action of note. The gold was a far different story. The heavily favored Argentinians bowed out to the Nigerians 2-1 in an epic battle that featured an oft-debated game winner. If you ask an Argentinian it was off-sides; if you ask a Nigerian it was one of the great moments in the Nigeria's history. To this day I still get a rise out of all the cabbies in Chicago, who hail from Nigeria, when I tell them I was there.

(Que music): "How do you want it? How does it feel? Growing up as a N*** in the cash game living in the fast lane ride for real."

Day 3: Wait for it ... wait for it... HISTORY! We got to the stadium at about 2pm just when our ticket said to be there. You see for track and field your ticket entitles you to a block of time. Often times many events are taking place at the same time. However, for the first 3 hours all that was taking place was the Pole-Vaulting part of the men's decathlon. As the sun descended the action picked up. My eyes, weak from watching the vaulters, suddenly picked up a bright sparkle floating just above the track. It was Michael Johnson's famed gold shoes. When the gun went off so did MJ. He raced around the track as the flashbulbs tried to keep pace. In an instant it was over. He took a few "slow down" strides and then right in front of me he knelt, with old glory on his shoulder, and his arm around a sign that read 19.32! Later that evening Dan O'brien (of Dan and Dave fame) won the decathlon, but nothing will ever compare to the second best 19.32 seconds of my life (The best is not appropriate).

It was a summer vacation that I will never forget. When we got home we realized that our cat, who had been let out only an hour before, would never be seen living again (RIP Ashes). However, when I think about the summer of 1996 it always brings a smile to my face and seems like only yesterday.....

(Que music and fade to black) "What if God was one of us? Just a bum like one of us?..."

Good Day,

Mr. Kint

"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist"

What happened to the Deli?

RB8 — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 14:02:38 GMT

Last night, after a few spirited games of backgammon with an old friend, my stomach started to alert me of its emptiness. Being of an inquisitive mind I asked, “Hey you old sand-bagging son of a … Where can the backgammon champion of the east-side fill his belly with a variety of delectable meats pressed between two slabs of the wonderful marriage of yeast and wheat?” He responded to me, “You are the devil incarnate. Your query is a good one however. I would recommend the new Black and White on North Avenue. They have wonderful sandwiches. I recommend the pepper steak. It makes your mouth feel as good as your foot does when putting on that perfectly sized new blucher.”

Heeding his advice I journeyed towards Black and White in anticipation of a sandwich so good it would remind me of my days of drinking port, and yachting on the Caspian see. Upon entering Black and White I was quite pleased as aromas of meats, cheeses, and fried potatoes filled my nose like a reverse volcano. The comely young woman behind the counter wondered as to what exactly it was I would care to feast upon. I quickly ordered the pepper steak sandwich with excitement. My mouth was watering, my palms were sweating and my pupils were enlarged, as I sipped on some of the finest Dew from the Mountains. After just a few minutes, the chef emerged from behind the counter toting his masterpiece. I ate it with glee, and it was wonderful. The steak was juicy and hot. So hot in fact it reminded me of two rats mating in a wool sock. The green peppers, onions, and cheesy sauce were like scenes of gratuitous nudity in comedic films; they just made everything better.

After eating this wonderful sandwich I was quite satisfied, but I felt like something in my life was still missing. That missing space could only be filled by the perfect deli sandwich. I have eaten at Fulbeli Deli in Koppa’s, and I have dined at Benji’s to the north, but neither had really smacked me in the face and forced me to shout my safe word, “Bananorama!”

Hey you! Yes you! Sitting in front of your computer reading this babbling of an-unsatisfied sandwich lover, where do I go? Where can I possibly find the holy grail of deli sandwiches in the Milwaukee area? Where can I find a shaved ham sandwich piled high on fresh rye bread, smothered in a rich stone ground brown mustard? Please leave your responses below.

Good Day,

Mr. Kint

“The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist”