Keep Walking Johnny Walker

I had the assumption that this tasting would be free. After all, the event was advertised as a publicity/marketing stunt to promote the Johnny Walker label.

We stood in line among a bunch of young 20-30 somethings dressed for a night of drinking. The first thing we are asked is for a $5 donation to RAD (Rockstars, Recording artists, Radio dj's against Drunk Driving or something like that). What the?? That was really slick to have us involuntarily donate $5 to a copy cat MAD cause. None of us had the balls to say no.

There were "Johnny Walker" ladies with handhelds registering us in line. They swiped our id cards and asked us a few questions (eg. How many drinks do you consume a month? I said 20. What do you usually prefer to drink? Bourbon, Scotch. Did you drink Johnny Walker in the last month? Nope. What brands of whiskey do you prefer? Four roses, Macallan, 1792, Woodford Reserve).

They stamped our hands and we were led directly to the top floor, handed one token to exchange for one drink, a small selection of appetizers and told that we have a half hour to consume food and beverage before heading downstairs for a one hour presentation. I'm thinking "oh no, this is going to be like a time share presentation". They give you alcohol in exchange for wasting an hour of your life listening to a salesman sell you their product. We started looking for escape routes.

But then our "host" announced that we were in for a tasting treat of five of the Johnny Walker labels, So, we obligingly followed the masses like obedient lemmings to the presentation room where we were seated in neat rows of eight to 12 with three glasses of two gulps worth of liquor, a business card case, an eye dropper, a glass of water, four strawberries in a bowl, pepper in a dish and a mini Johnny Walker lapel pin. Huge projection screens covered the walls.

Each Johnny Walker label (black, red, gold, green, and blue) had it's own intro video and history told to us by the MC. We tasted all five labels, two of which were presented in different glasses by the "Johnny Walker" ladies complete with with the alcohol sniffing, water dilution, and strawberry with pepper test.

There were about 90+ of us and our photos were taken and will likely be used for their future marketing purposes. Upon leaving, my friend and I got our money's worth. We took the eye dropper and the prettiest glass they served our whiskey in. Johnny, we will keep walking, right out the door.

Fatiqued to Fantastic!

Doesn't work..probably because the expiration date listed is 12/2007.

the 'loin characters

I don't like to drive my car in the city and if I could walk, bike or bus it to my destination, I'll do it. Last night, I had plans to see Camera Obscura at GAMH. Biking was an option but GAMH isn't in the nicest part of town and I didn't want to exit a concert and find my lock, bike-less on a parking meter.

So, I bused it on the "Dirty 8", got off one stop past the one I should have gotten off at and found myself in the heart of the Tenderloin. There's nothing "tender" about this neighborhood.

Rather than walk straight up O'Farrell, I went up a block to Geary, a slightly safer street to walk on and where Edinburgh bar is located. Two blocks later, there's police cars lighting flares to cordon off the intersection where a Toyota Prius (no driver to be seen) with a cracked windshield, a bag of bloody groceries spewed by the front bumper, and a blood stain under the left tire sat. No sign of a victim or victims. Just a bunch of rubberneckers watching the police nonchalantly do their job so I assumed the ambulance came and went. I kept walking.

A block later, two bearded hipsters of fixed gear bikes riding the wrong way on Geary (Geary is a one-way street) are honked at by a taxi. And guess what the self-righteous hipsters do? They yelled obcenities at the taxi driver, spat on his vehicle and continued to ride against one way traffic toward the squad of police officers at the next intersection. I hoped they got ticketed. I kept walking.

Another block, a drug deal plain as day was going down while some poor soul was shooting up in a doorway of a boarded up storefront. I just kept walking.

Bruised, battered and biking

Last Sunday, I rode my bike after my return from vacation. Rather than take a leasurly trip along flat, well marked bike paths, I accepted the challenge of riding to the Marin Headlands with my friend as my guide. A trip to the Headlands required clipless pedals to make the hill climbs easier on the legs.

I was excited and nervous about the ride. For one, my balance sucks and two, I haven't ridden with clipless since forever. Because of this, I pretty much set myself up to fall at least once while unclipping to stop.

We rode out that warm afternoon, taking the shortest route to Presidio for the short and narrow climb to the Golden Gate Bridge. Once there, I successfully navigated across, following close behind my friend. Once we got to the other side, he failed to mention the hill climb up to the Headlands. He knew the route and fortunately for me, a section of the roads were closed to cyclists. We weren't sure why but I was relieved. My friend really wanted to ride to the Headlands so we took a different route. There were more cars on the road than usual which made me all the more nervous. Undaunted, we made it to Fort Cronkite and where I had my first fall. I turned on an incline, stopped and failed to unclip fast enough. I fell on my left. It was a soft fall but I managed to bruise my left palm, left shin and thigh.

A little shaken and embarrassed, I laughed it off and we rode up to Battery Mendell. The views are gorgeous from there. It was just after 4p and time to head back. We hustled down the road, through one tunnel and across the bridge. At the end of the bridge, there's a sharp and narrow right turn down a steep path that leads to the Presidio. I didn't take the turn sharp enough, my front tire hit a pipe jutting out of the concrete path and I fell on my right side, hard. There wasn't time to lie there and groan. I unclipped, slid out from under my bike and moved off to the side. I was in a blind turn and I didn't want to be run over by another cyclist and cause a bike pile up. My right side was throbbing and sore. I was hurting too much to be embarrassed when cyclists rounded that corner and asked me if I was ok. I kept saying "oww, oww, oww". My friend suggested I rest to get my bearings before riding off. I must have been shaking. I just wanted to get home. I sucked it up and we rode back as quickly as possible. This time, he rode behind me to keep an eye on me.

I made it back safely and now I have matching bruises on both sides of my body; both palms, both thighs, both shins, both upper arms and a big ol' one on my ass. I look beaten up.