Department of Unrelated Things

Cul-de-Art, Elevator Inspectors and Something You Need to Drink

Hello, hungry people.

Napkins in your laps.

Elbows off the table.

Someone pass the hot sauce, please.

Eat as much as you are able …

***

Art in a Box

I sometimes help myself to a book from one of those Free Little Libraries that have popped up all over the place. The first one was erected in Wisconsin back in 2009. There are now more than 150,000 of them across the U.S. — three times the number of regular ol’ public libraries. — and they continue to spread like crazy.

That statistic thrills the heck outta me.

Here’s to words on paper neatly arranged between two covers! Here’s to licking your finger to turn the pages! Here’s to curling up with something that didn’t cost you nothin’!

Ain’t no one can ban a book from a Free Little Library. Not even here in Flor-i-doo-da.

***

I didn’t know there was such a thing as Free Little Art Galleries until earlier this year when one appeared along the cul-de-sac where my older son and his family live.

Their next-door neighbors put it up—Heather and Kevin VanDye and their son, Kian, 11. They call it the Cul-de-Art. Here’s a quick walk-through:

cul_de_art_orlando

A post shared by @cul_de_art_orlando

A Seattle artist launched the first Free Little Art Gallery in 2020. There are now more than 500 in the U.S. and even a website that keeps track of them all. Again, this thrills the heck outta me.

Here’s something I took from the Cul-de-Art the other day:

Lovely, isn’t she?

Full disclosure: That brilliant piece of fish art at the top of the page being admired by the Tiny Little Man? It’s the work of my grandson, Boz, 7.

If it weren’t a Free Little Art Gallery, I’d suggest that the bidding open at $1 million.

***

Walking home the other day, I spotted this head-scratcher.

The car was parked by the city tennis courts. No tall, elevatorized buildings in sight.

I’d never seen such a sticker in the back window of a car. Do elevator inspectors typically proclaim themselves in such fashion?

I stepped closer to take a photo. Stepped even closer to get another.

A man got out of the car. My age, maybe a little younger, which applies to more and more people these days.

Man: Can I help you?

Me (friendly wave): Hey! Howya doing? Just taking a photo of your sticker.

Man: Yeah, I can see that.

Me: So … you’re an elevator inspector?

Man: It’s what the sticker says, isn’t it?

Me: I’ve never seen a sticker like that before.

The man shrugs, as if to say, so what’s that to me?

Me (trying hard to salvage this delightful human encounter): So … are you, as an elevator inspector, required to have that sticker in the back window?

Man: No.

Me: So … you just stuck it back there to let people know you’re an elevator inspector?

Man (after a longish pause): Are you done here?

Yeah, as it turned out, I was.

***

What you’re looking at is a tinto de verano.

Translation from Spanish: red wine of summer.

I’m a red wine guy. But this summer, more than any summer I can recall, it is just too damn hot to drink red wine. Even if it’s properly chilled to 58 degrees or whatever it’s supposed to be properly chilled to.

Still, we must drink, musn’t we?

Tinto de verano is the poor man’s sangria, the summertime choice at bars in Spain, especially the divey ones, where sangria is considered the drink of tourists.

I can speak to the medicinal qualities of the tinto de verano. And to its easy construction. The typical recipe calls for mixing red wine (the cheaper the better) and a citrusy soda, like Sprite, in equal proportions, with lots of ice and a slice of lemon or orange. It goes down easy. Not so easy that you want to chug it. But just-zright easy.

I didn’t have all those classic ingredients on hand the other day, so I made mine thusly:

Ingredients
1 bottle cheap Spanish granache ($8)

Coupla cans of Fresca

1 lime

Preparation
Pour several glugs of wine into glass. Add a more or less equal amount of Fresca. Fill glass with ice. Rub a lime wedge around the rim, then squeeze all the juice out of the lime and drop it into the wine.

Keep making more tinto de veranos until everything is gone. Share if you must.

Some folks like to add a floater of rum. I am sometimes one of those folks. Depends. You’re on your own.

Here’s to the weekend!

***

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