Thanks to all the Galley readers for sharing their thoughts on a number of recent posts:
An anonymous reader rightly flags the awfully large sum of cash Frank Sinatra allegedly toted for the mob back in 1946. Galley friend C.L. has an unimpeachable source who says that the $3.5 million in fifties weighs about 154 pounds. That would be more than the boy singer from Hoboken could've even weighed. This isn't to say it couldn't have happened. He could have towed a steamer trunk or had someone help him. I would also add my voice dissenting to the one reader who called Mr. S the most overrated singer. Frank was larger than life. He created (or helped create) the concept album. He dated Ava Gardner! Angie Dickenson!
It also warms the heart to see so many readers express their expert opinions on fine Scotch and fine bourbon. Surveying those comments, it looks as if Talisker comes out ahead, but just barely. And shame on the drinker who compared Laphraoig to a Band-Aid! (All of this speaks volumes about the sophisticated tastes of Galley Slaves readers. I expect distillers to place ads on this site promptly.)
Finally, I forgot to mention a minor distraction from Episode III--that being a giant reptile commandeered by Obi-Wan Kenobi. It gallops about and makes a very loud squealing noise. It's reminded me of Jason and the Argonauts. (I prefer the soft murmers of a tauntaun anyday.)
12 hours ago
2 comments:
Next issue - Rita Hayworth or Ava Gardner, who would you rather nail? I disqualify myself, because I've done them both.
--"Frank Sinatra," The Sinatra Group, classic SNL skit
Who says it has to be fifties? They had hundred-dollar bills back then. Heck, I think the Treasury was using five-hundreds and thousands, though I doubt the mob would have been using such easily traceable money.
Still, even if we're down to seventy-five pounds, that's a lotta lettuce, baby.
--Bill Walsh
You don't scare me. I've got chunks of guys like you in my stool!
Sorry to have darkened your rose glasses, but I'm not taking back the bandaid comment, nor will I give up my beloved Laphroiag over such a minor quibbling detail. Unfortunately for me, my appreciation for this fine potion is such that every time I nick myself I immediately start salivating.
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