Captain Dunsel?

Never heard of him? I know you Star Trek fans remember the reference - you know, the episode where Doctor Daystrom and the M-5 computer replaced Captain Kirk at the helm of the Enterprise. You got to know that one. Anyway, for those who have not seen every episode of the original Star Trek series about 186 times apiece, let me fill you in. "Captain Dunsel" is a midshipman's term for a part which no longer serves a useful purpose. Think a politician whose newer and younger party members have party excluded him, a committee chair whose members have tuned her out. And of course, our good Captain Kirk, who was left to watch as a cardboard computer ran his beloved Enterprise.

I have thought much of Capain Dunsel over the last couple of weeks. Much like the ship captain, I was once at the helm of my own vessel right here in the Bulitt home. My crew was made up of little people, all scampering around looking to me for food, for fun, for love - for life. For piggybacks and "speed boat". For "chase me" and "cuss time". A tiring job, a challenging position, that is for certain, but one which I think I grew into and more comfortable as my time in the Captain's chair went by. I didn't think much about it then, but now I do. My days as Captain, my time as the center of my children's lives, it has most certainly passed. Today, my ship largely runs itself, my crew more often than not, much happier to be on their own, making their own way, walking their own paths.

I am Captain Dunsel. Or am I?

Does my oldest still call me every day from college, pretty much without fail? She does. Does my high school senior still rely upon me to help her with getting ready for her next steps in life - beyond high school? She does. And my 15 year old - doesn't she need me now more than ever to help her reach beyond and around her array of issues to be the best she can be? I think she does. And what about my baby? My 12 year old who looks and wants you to think she is really 18. Doesn't she need me to remind her that its okay to be a kid for awhile longer? I know she does.

Do all of my girls still laugh at my jokes? They do. Do they want to tell me about their successes, and sometimes even their failures? Yes.Yes. I believe they do.

Maybe I dont need to be the center of my children's lives to continue to be important to their lives. I think I can still make a difference without having to be the only difference.

Its amazing how a little glass of oaky anejo can give you clarity.

Captain Dunsel? Oh no. Not me. Not now. Not ever.

Key West, FL

Well, it has been far too long since yours truly (TQB South) has posted anything to our blog. Plenty of life getting in the way of posting, but hopefully I'm back in gear now.

Several weeks ago the TQBs got together for a road trip to Key West. It has become a favorite party spot for the boys. I've been heading down to Key West since college Spring Break days and I've always loved the town. It remains a highly recommended destination for all Tequila Boys - young & old.

Things I like about Key West:

* It feels a lot like New Orleans to me (another TQB favorite), but with better weather. It doesn't have the same unbelievable music scene, but the mentality of the folks in Key West is "party-time!" all of the time.

* One of the Key West traditions that leads to that party mentality (and reminds me of New Orleans) is the Go-Cup. Is there anything better than being able to take your cocktails to the street in-between stops?

* There really is a mile-marker "ZERO" at the beginning of Route 1. I don't know why I think being at the southern most tip of the US is so cool, but I do.

* The beautiful Julia and Big Red in their scanty swim suits. I'm sorry all of you can't experience this on your Key West trips. What can we say? We're lucky guys.

* Scootering around town is a blast. It is a great way to see Key West. Although, watch out for elderly Cuban men in the crosswalks.

* The drive down from Miami. I know a lot of people that hate the drive, but I find it part of the magic. The second we hit the outer Keys I'm on "Keys Time" and I truly love the whole drive down. The beautiful blue/green water on either side of the road, the funky old-school bars/restaurants along the way, 7-mile bridge, etc. I just love it all.

* Key West's ability to bring out crazy costumes and body painting. Yeah, there are some women that shouldn't do the body painting, but there are still plenty that should. The only exception for me are the really B-I-G drag queens. People that know me, understand that I have no problems with alternative life styles. But some of these big queens scare me like angry clowns and carneys.

* Reading in the local papers that the "The Man Painted Silver" is seeking a ruling that will force "The Man Who Tells Dirty Jokes" to stand a minimum of 20 yards for him at the Sunsets - only in Key West. Oh yeah, nice sunsets too.

* There is an actual rope swing in my favorite restaurant on the island - Blue Heaven. BTW, if you visit make sure you order the Sauteed Yellowtail Snapper with Citrus Beurre Blanc Sauce. Food doesn't get much better.

* Live music in almost every bar - 'nuff said.

One thing I don't love so much about Key West:

* Key West is actually not a great tequila town. Yeah, every bar has a "top-shelf" of Patron (has any tequila even come close to a better job of marketing and placement??), but beyond that the pickins' are a bit thin. On this trip we discovered that Cowboy Bill's has one of the better selections (although we we forced to endure the tool bartender that was trying to do his best Tom Cruise in "Cocktail" impression). The bar is a bit off the beaten path on the northern end of Duval, but worth the walk - especially on sexy bull-riding night - yowza!

The good news is that we brought our own bottles of Dos Lunas Anejo and Corralejo Reposado for the trip - two TQB favorites. At the least, we always knew we had tasty nightcaps back at the rooms. What a great weekend with some really great friends.

Ahhh, now Sunday night is ahead - time to spend a few hours with Sookie Stackhouse, Vince/Ari & the Entourage and of course, Mr. Don Draper.

National Tequila Day?

You got it right. National Tequila Day. Right up there with Boxer Day. Crazy. Might as well send a passel of diabetics out for National Donut Day. Maybe free the sex addicts from thir therapeautic environs for a National Vibrator Day. Think of the parades - fireworks? Floats? What a country.

Of course, despite the jokes, it seemed to TQB Nation that the holiday should not go without appropriate revelry. In honor of the historic day, the TQB founders - together again after a two week hiatus - stretched their legs along "the Avenue" as Atlantic Avenue is called in Del Ray Beach, Florida. The TQB were also celebrating some member birthdays and roamed the streets with Flip, the Princess, the LaVigna's (now there's a holiday name in the making...)and flanked, as always, by their female love interests, Julia and Big Red.

Cocktails kicked off at Bluefin, a trendy sushi and seafood spot. A nice black lacquered and circular bar engulfed a few of your basic south Florida bartenders - cute,blonde and busty but slightly "bartender challenged". The tequila selection was weak - Patron silver and reposado and a couple of well bottles of junk. We made the most of it, had blonde #1 pour us a couple of silver's, chilled and up with a little lime wedge. Nothing extraordinary, but certainly refreshing. Blonde #2 pulled a couple of flat beers, but that didnt dampen things for the fellas.

After an hour or so, we headed over to a "gastro-pub" - just dont like how that sounds, between you and me. I do understand this is the latest in themed restaurants for the "foodie folks", of which, as you know, I am not. The joint, called "Taste" was also a very hip spot - our waiter, Kirk, a decent enough fellow, but unfortunately appeared to be stretching his skills a bit in the food service industry. We had an assortment of appetizers, all really good. Of particular mention was the chip and dip plate - really tasty, but did remind me a bit of my Saturday nights babysitting in the 70's knocking back bowl full of Ruffles and a pint of Dean's french onion dip while watching The Bob Newhart Show - no matter, everyone loved it.

To a man. all enjoyed their food - from some extravagant burgers to crab cake sliders. Fellow TQB founder JB polished off a "skirt steak", which by the way was longer and looser then the skirt Big Red had on for the evening. She was, for a birthday girl of any age, much less one in her mid 40's, just plain smoking hot.

Oh yeah - the tequila - again, nothing special in terms of choices, leaving this non driving TQB to top off with a Milagro Reposado - had them chill it a little longer and toss into a martini glass. Again, no award winner, but a nice crisp and refreshing cocktail. No complaints.

The Key Lime Pie that all shared for dessert was also quite good - creamy with a neat graham cracker and cocunut crust, but maybe not as sharp as Key Lime lovers would prefer.

Finished up with an icy cold Anchor Steam. Very Bohemian, I know. Especially for a true blue Anheuser Busch guy. Was good, I will tell you that.

Great friends. Great night. Great holiday.

Countdown to the Keys...

No LeBron. I doubt the Spanish World Cup champs be there. Oooster-something? You know, the guy that just won the British Open - Maybe those White House party crashers? Hope not. The Boys, the Tequila Boys will be there. A week from Friday, the boys head south to the isle of Hemingway, 12 toed cats and the usual assortment of miscreants. Thus, we fit right in.

The Tequila Boys begin their first official corporate outing a week from Friday. All are invited to join us roaming Duval from Sloppy Joe's to the dirt floor of the Parrot and all oak bars in between.

12 days, but who's counting?

"...all I ever wanted..."

...vacation, had to get away... Loved that song.

After a solid run of 70 hour work weeks, could not get the Go Go's out of my mind until I set foot in sunny south Florida.

Fast forward ten or so days and we are at the end of another family vacation. After 24 years of marriage and four kids, we have been fortunate to take a good number of trips, many during the summer. As the last day of another getaway winds down, I do tend to look back at the trip that was and wonder how many more I will get. Things have certainly changed over the years. 21 years of parenthood have taken me from one weekers to the Delaware shore with diapers and "pack n plays" in tow to flights down south with not much more than a book and a couple of kids who think I am from another planet.

This year's family trip was different in many ways, primarily as it was without a third of our family. My oldest elected to stay at school, work and be near her boyfriend. Sucks. Listen - I understand it but if you are a father of a grown up daughter, you know the feeling. And the feeling is, uh.... it sucks. My 17 year old is spending the summer in camp as something called a CIT. For the non campers out there that means "counselor in training". What it really means, however, is that your kid goes to camp,works for the summer and you still have to pay something close to college tuition for the privalege. Whatever. Bottom line, another kid gone for the summer. All together now: it sucks.

The good news, of course, is that there was more time for me to hang with my other two not so little ones. Beach, pool, waterparks, zoos - fun time. Tiring, but I loved every minute of it.

The evenings brought adult time with Julia, Big Red and my TQB brother, Johnny B. Several nights spent together, hanging out and laughing til we cried, sipping some great, great tequilas in the process (more about those in another post).

Not the movie "Vacation", I know. No great Chevy Chase scenes, no Christie Brinkley dropping her white bikini by the pool - but no doubt,like those Go Go's chirped in that eighties 45, "...vacation, all I ever wanted..."

Sometimes a little nothing is all you really need...

As this TQB rounds the bend toward 50, I sometimes look back at the path I have taken over the last half century. I find myself asking more than a few "what ifs" not to mention a random "if only". I wonder - even though I hope that the end is not near, have I done it "my way"?

If it sounds as if I am mired in a deep funk between tequila reviews, believe me that is just not the case. I don't dig ditches for a living. I dont have to pave roads. I have four beautiful kids and go to sleep every night with an amazing and gorgeous woman on the pillow next to me - often snoring by the time I get there, but that's not really the point...

I know that if I get up and go to work every day, I can pay for my house, my kids are taken care of and I usually have enough left over to spot up for a monthly agave run.

ON the other hand..... I spend most of my work days and 60 hour work weeks with folks who most definitely would rather have an intracranial bleed then spend an hour with me. Usually angry, generally sad and almost always in some sort of distress; believe me, the misery index is definitely on the rise. Good for business, bad for blood pressure.

Recently a woman whose ass I literally saved from divorce disaster and who could not thank me enough six months ago now refers to me as "the blood sucking moron". Charming AND creative... I am giving some thought to yanking the nameplate from my door and replacing it with "Blood Sucking Moron". Maybe sell a few tee shirts, you never know - - Hey, you get what you pay for...

What do I do to wind it down? Relax? Find my special place? I do just fine, thanks. Hang with my girls, date nights with Julia, a weekend ride on Big Red. Through it all, I listen to the boys - the band - Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes.

Anyone who listens to music has a favorite - my parents bend toward Sinatra and Streisand; Julia sings along (in fairness, "sings" might not be the right adjective) to Elton and Billy Joel; my kids' tastes run from country and Broadway to Ladies Gaga and Antebellum. But for me, when I want to just sit back, take it in, forget about the problems of others - there is just nothing like the Jukes. Listen, I am a Jersey music fanatic - I love Bruce and the E Streeters, enjoy JBJ, and am even old enough to have liked the Rascals. At the end of the day, though, I just would rather pull up a stool to my bar, stir a little "chilled and up", sidecar it with a cold beer, drop and spin a little Jukes.

I spent four hours at the Birchmere last night. "The Birch" is a great local concert venue and the Jukes generallly visit once or twice a year. Last night, they bounded through about 2 1/2 hours of alternately pounding, throbbing rock and roll, mixing in a little Sam Cooke and even Judy Garland's "Somewhere over the Rainbow" for good measure. The guys have a new CD to promote, and played several songs from the record last night. On one of the new tunes, Southside laments his needing to find a place where he "cant be found"; the lyrics of "sometimes a little nothing is all you really need" strikes and grounds you.

A few simple words sung by a 60 something bandleader reminded me of life's more important moments. Hey, Johnny - you talkin to me? You talkin to me? Because, if you aren't, I want you to know - I get it, oh yes I do. For me though, it is not just a place where I cant be found, but also a place where where I can drift away, nothing much to think about other than the music, your music, a place where "she's still in love" and I can "reach up and touch the sky".... For that and more, thanks to you and all your Jukes...

DANCING WITH MYSELF...

Billy Idol released "Dancing With Myself" in 1982. It was a great, rough around the edges new wavy rock tune. Every Thursday night at the now deceased Rendezvous Inn just off the University of Maryland campus in College Park (known simply as the "Vous" to the Terp faithful), girls took to the tables with a plastic cups of fifty cent beers in thir hands and rocked out to "Dancing with Myself". Even now, more than 25 years later, I can recall clearly looking up at a particularly curvy little thing from Jersey in some low rise jeans, her "vous shoes" and - - - anyway, I veered off track...

Why you ask, did Billy and his across the pond Brit rock anthem come to mind? A bit odd, actually. I spent Friday night at a neighbor's 50th birthday party down the street. You know the drill - lots of food, beer, big tent out back, bar on the deck and big ol' speakers blaring somebody's favorite mix of rock, old disco and a way too early in the evening spin of Barry White. The tequila was clearly purchased by the uninformed - Jose Cuervo and uh - - - Jose Cuervo. No me gusta.

Without any real tequila, I was fully prepared to spend the evening sipping from a cold longneck Bud and with the hope of catching the lovely Julia after the party in the right white wine induced frame of mind, if you get my drift. Overly optimistic? I'll never tell.

As if sent by an agave angel, some guy showed up about an hour or so in with a bottle of Milagro Reposado. Ca-ching!

Dont get me wrong, the Milagro is no top of the line tequila. What you do get for a very reasonable price is a nice, refreshing and sweet sipping tequila that makes for a quality sidecar to a cold and sweaty bottle of Bud.

So at that point, the world was again spinning in the right direction. A cool night, comfortable spot on the rail of the birthday boy's deck, couple of cocktails and yakking it up with dependable guy's guy, my neighbor Philly Walt. And then i saw him. Pasty guy. White shorts, way too short, red Under Armour golf shirt and flip flops. Dancing - - - - with himself. Bad news, Bonzo. There is simply nothing good that can come of a guy who dances with himself - under any circumstances.

"...Well there's nothing to lose and there's nothing to prove and I'm dancing with myself - oh, oh, oh..." Cool lyrics. Cool song. Real life, not so much.

Rebel yell, anyone?