STUMPTOWNBLOGGER

NEWS FROM LINDNER’S PONY ESPRESSO

I had a customer yesterday who had an off the wall request. He had a concoction in Italy apparently, and wanted to know if I could make one like it. So I asked him to describe it to me.

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[SIDEBAR] part of my schtick is that I try to carry everything imaginable. Every alternative milk option, every type of chocolate, every syrup, etc. I myself am not a fan of sweetened coffee, but lots of folks are. And I’m in business to satisfy my customer’s tastes, not my own.

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So he tells me “Well, it was like a milkshake, but it was lightly flavored with anēce” (that’s how he pronounced it. He meant anise).

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“Okay?”

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“And it had chocolate in it and was really creamy.”

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“Okay?”

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“Can you make something like that?”

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“Sure. What size, how strong do you want it, and what kind of chocolate?”

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“What do you mean what kind of chocolate?”

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“I have twelve kinds of chocolate. Ghirardelli, Mexican chocolate, an Italian chocolate, a double-dark chocolate, white chocolate, German chocolate…”

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“Double-dark chocolate!”

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“Okay. Regular milk, or something exotic?”

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“Do you have coconut milk?”

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“I do.”

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“That’s what I want!”

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So I made him a quad ristretto, dark chocolate, annisette, coconut milk, 24 ounce parfaited frappe. I got a little fancy with it by drizzling some dark chocolate sauce in a spiral on the inside of his cup. He took a sip: “Yes! This is it!” He paid and walked off grinning.

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A few minutes later, he stops by again: “I’ve been looking for someone who could make that ever since I went to Italy three years ago. No one carries that anēce, and that chocolate was incredible.”

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“It’s actually pronounced annisette. This is a syrup form of a traditional Italian aperitif.” (I flashed him the bottle).

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“Well, whatever it’s called, yours are better than the ones I had in Italy.”

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Yes, it’s a pain in the ass to carry over 100 different syrups in a mobile restaurant, but ya’ know what…? If just one in a thousand customers challenges you like that and you satisfy them, you know you’re in the right bidnez. 😎

LINDNER’S DAD • 102 YEARS

A very happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there, but most especially to my own, who will be (🤞) 103 in October. My daughter Lisa flew down to visit him last weekend. She took this picture of them out for a stroll around the neighborhood together.

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By the way, he doesn’t have a medical “need” for the walker. He lost his balance once about two years ago, kissed the carpet, and ever since then relies on the walker for support. And since it was originally my mom’s, I suspect it gives him a sense of connection.

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His house, that he and my mom designed back in 1954, (behind his left shoulder), was the second house in the neighborhood at that time. It was all walnut orchards and mustard fields as far as you could see until around 1958-‘59.

 

#Juneteenth #FathersDay2022

AN OFFER WE CANT REFUSE FROM LINDNER

 I guess it’s no secret that I’m a big fan of The Godfather. Best movie EVAH!

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So I was watching it a few day ago; the scene where a bunch of mobsters are symbolically carving up Havana for the mafia. Oops! 🫢 I mean for “this thing of ours.” It’s Hyman Roth’s birthday, an old Jewish, Polish immigrant who made his fortune in organized crime. (Meyer Lansky in real life. Bugsy Siegel and Lucky Luciano associate).

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Roth’s character (brilliantly played by Lee Strasbourg) is a dinosaur with one foot in the grave, and he looks it. He’s a shriveled up, hunched over husk of a man with a heart condition. He slowly shuffles as he walks.

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But for the first time ever, I noticed the script on top of the cake: 67 años

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Wait... What? Hyman Roth’s character was only 67 years old? Aw, c’mon, that can’t be right, can it? That unwrapped mummy? <Lindner checks his own birth certificate 📃 then glances in the mirror>

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I think I’m’a gonna need some quiet time alone to process this. 😩

KNOCK KNOCK AT LINDNER’S PAD

About 5-6 years ago, I used to hire this teenage boy to do odd jobs for me. Mostly yard maintenance, but not always. He had an obvious drug habit, but I had hopes for him. Some days he’d show up, some days he wouldn’t… some days he got the job done, some days I’d have been better off leaving it to the raccoons.

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I paid him to mow the lawn once, and he did a decent job. Then he came over the very next day and asked if I had any work for him. I said no, not at this time. He asked “How about if I mow your lawn?” When I reminded him that he just mowed it 20 hours ago, he said “But I need money. I’m hungry.” His “hunger” was seemingly ever-present.

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Then one day, he promised to come back the next day to work if I spotted him $30.00 up front. He said he was super-hungry, and needed to buy food. I could see he was in bad shape, so I gave him the thirty bucks with a caveat: “You promise you’ll finish that job tomorrow, right? I’m taking you at your word. If you don’t, I’ll never hire you again.”

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“Oh, I promise!” Yeah, right. I never saw him again.

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Until last night.

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I heard a knock on the back door, and there he was, in his twenties now, a little heavier, but it’s the same kid. He started with the expected pleasantries; how are you? How’s your business? I see you have a new coffee truck… then he told me he was hungry, and asked if I had any odd jobs for him. I didn’t bother to remind him of how he ripped me off the last time we saw each other. I told him “No, not at this time.” (I just had a landscaper come out and gussy up the back forty last week).

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“But Bruce, I’m SO HUNGRY! Can you spot me $50.00 until next week?”

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“Nope. No can do.”

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“But…”

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“Nice to see you again, but I can’t help you.”

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“How about just $30.00 then? I promise, I’ll pay you back next week.”

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You know the final scene at the end of Godfather part 1 when Al Neri slowly closes the door on Kay in the next room? And the slightly out of focus door eclipses her bewildered face before the scene fades to black? It was just like that.

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I don’t mean to make light of addiction. It’s a terrible problem. But in retrospect, I wasn’t doing him any favors by (essentially) enabling him back then. Maybe a hard fall on his ass will do him more good than my further support of his insatiable “hunger.”

GOING TO THE MOVIES WITH LINDNER

 You wouldn’t think so, but being a barista for six hours straight can tucker out an old fogey. You have to pay close attention to each order, operate all the bells and whistles, make change, run credit cards, restock supplies on the fly, and schmooze with everyone as you work. Then when I get home, I tear down the Javamobile, make a shopping list for Sunday, stagger into the house, shovel something down my gullet, pour some Wild Turkey over ice and plop down in my BarcaLounger for some mindless entertainment. If you remember Lee Marvin in Cat Ballou, that’s pretty much how I feel at the end of the day—minus Smokey the horse.

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Once my tired ass and the BarcaLounger melded into one, I decided to check out this new Star Trek series one of my customers told me about yesterday. It streams on Paramount. Due to the combination of my being half-dead and the 101° whiskey, I dozed off for a few minutes. But when I awakened, there was an actor that looked very familiar. VERY familiar, as in I know this person from somewhere, but I couldn’t place her. So I watched the end credits carefully to see who she was: Rebecca Romaijn.

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Oh, hellllll yes! I DO know you. During the decade or so that I catered film and television shoots here in Portland, Dean Devlin’s company “Electric Entertainment” (he did Independence Day) would book me regularly. They shot “Leverage” here, and when that had run it’s course, they used the same stages to shoot “The Librarians.” Romaijn was one of the stars on that show. She and her staff would come out and get lattes from me. She had short blond hair then, unlike her character in Star Trek. I think that’s what threw me. She always had a Sharon Stone kind of vibe. (Double sugar-free vanilla lattes, if memory serves. John Laroquette’s regular was a triple short). Anyway, it’s fun to see some of your past customers/gigs moving onward and upward.

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[SIDEBAR] Lee Marvin won the Best Actor Oscar in 1965 for his portrayal of two brothers; the evil Tim Strawn, and the well-intentioned but chronically drunk Kid Shelleen. When Lee Marvin accepted the award, he said “I think half of this belongs to a horse somewhere out in the valley.” If you’ve never seen it, it’s pretty funny. A 27 year old Jane Fonda stars in the title role.

GREAT IDEA FROM BRUCE LINDNER’S DAUGHTER

https://www.corvallisadvocate.com/2022/local-fragrance-maker-finds-smell-of-corvallis/

LINDNER REPORTS APPLE IS DUMPING THE I-POD …..NOW WHAT DO WE DO?

PLAYING LINDNER

See that tonearm? The thingy that looks kinda’ like the turret on a tank? it tracks along tangentially and plays records back at the angle they were originally cut. Half-century old audiophile chic. And see that long black slot in the foreground? I decided to tweak and spiffy up this turntable today, so I dipped a Q-tip in isopropyl alcohol and cleaned the opening of that groove.

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But then for no particular reason, the Q-tip slipped out of my espresso-stained fingers and fell down INSIDE that groove.

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SO not groovy. 😩

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I tried shining a flashlight down in there to see where it came to rest, but no dice. It’s like a black hole down there. And this is a delicate contraption, so turning it upside-down and giving it a good shake isn’t an option.

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So out came the jeweler’s tools. I completely disassembled the turntable. The back came off first, then the platter, spindle, etc., until I located the runaway Q-tip. I found it resting comfortably across two rubber belts that drive the tracking mechanism.

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I threw everything back together, plugged it back into the preamp, grounded it, fired it up, and… it’s as good as new. <whew> 🥵 

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My eyesight ain’t as good as it once was, even with a flashlight and wearing readers. Last Friday I tried to adjust the brake tensioners on an old Revox reel-to-reel tape recorder. As I was dinking around with it, I saw what appeared at first glance to be a ghost hovering over the reels; an ethereal apparition of sorts. Like something was moving, but wasn’t really there. Oh crap, there it was again. That’s smoke! The motor was overheating. Time to back off on the tensioners methinks. I unplugged the Revox, slapped it back together and put back on the shelf for another day. Maybe it’ll fix itself in the interim. 🤞 

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So a swing and a miss. The Revox (circa 1970) is a fire hazard, but the Mitsubishi turntable (circa 1980) has been resurrected. I’m giving myself a gold medal 🥇 for the latter. I’ll pretend the former didn’t happen for now. 🙄

LINDNER’S PONY EXPRESS

 A cute thing happened yesterday at the farmer’s market. A group of 7 young women, I’d guess college age, stopped by. I can generally crank out a hot latte or mocha in about 70-90 seconds, but cold ones take a little longer. And using milk alternatives, add shots and my exotic syrups slows me down a bit more. ALL of their drinks fell into those parameters. So seven drinks times at least two minutes each, means it took me about 12-14 minutes to make them all.

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That said, they were charming. Just seven friends out for a Saturday excursion at the farmer’s market. The down side to serving large groups, is that it bogs down the line (though few seem to mind). The plus side, is that it gives me more time to interact with my customers as I work.

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I honestly don’t recall how it came up, but one of them asked me what kind of music I like. I told her I’m an old fart, so I don’t know much about contemporary music. But Taylor Swift seems particularly talented. She then asked what classic bands I’ve seen live. I said; “Well, my very first concert was the Beatles.” I looked down and saw seven pairs of disbelieving eyes looking up at me.

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😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

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“Seriously? You got to see the Beatles? Were they awesome?”

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“It wasn’t bad for a first-ever concert.”

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“Who else did you get to see?”

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“Well, the Grateful Dead a couple dozen times, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, the Doors…”

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“You saw the Doors?”

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“Yeah. Several times. In fact, I uploaded some home video that my brother and I shot at an outdoor music festival. It’s on YouTube.”

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I then proceeded to tell them the whole story (I’ve told it umpteen times on Facebook), about the cameo by Harrison Ford, the guy who dropped in by parachute, my 16 year old self, etc. So one of them Googled it on the spot. “Is this it?” She flashed her phone at me. “That’s it. But don’t get too excited, because there’s no audio. It was shot with an old wind-up 8 mm movie camera. Be sure to read the narrative I posted with it.”

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I finished the last of their 20 ounce iced, lavender, white chocolate, oat milk lattes and 24 ounce iced, coconut milk chais (with two add shots), tallied up the total and one of them covered them all. The last thing I said to them as they were leaving; “I’m the guy in the dark blue long sleeve shirt about 20 seconds in that looks like a young Mr. Spock. Harrison Ford is the guy in the light blue shirt manning the movie camera at the 1:50 mark.”

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Fast forward to this morning. YouTube told me I have a new message. I clicked on the link. “OMG you were so cute when you were young!”

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Yeah. Thanks a heap. 😒

LINDNER’S GEM!

Out on the town with Lisa at LēCHON on Friday night. I shun downtown Portland these days, but I’ll go anywhere to be with her for a few hours. Great little South American tapas place on the waterfront. Funky decor, but imaginative dishes. I suppose that’s in keeping with the new “new.”

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Ironic: Lisa still respects my advice on maintaining business/personal relationships. That’s like asking Marjorie Taylor Greene how she manages to remember everything in such exact detail. My track record with business relations is fine, but the personal ones have been not so…  😖

 

great.