You’re Soaking In It
A Geezer’s Notebook, By Jim Foster
I have become a strange bird, weird even. I wrote a little shopping list to pick up a few things the next time I was at the store. There were just two things on it, a jar of T&T Sweet Chili Sauce (excellent by the way) and some Palmolive dish soap. Why weird? Because it has to be Palmolive dish soap, not just any old kind of soap, it must be Palmolive. Why? Because Madge told me to buy it.
You must remember Madge. She was the manicurist on TV who soaked her clients’ hands in Palmolive dish soap before she did whatever manicurists do. (I have never been to one and have no idea what they do but it can’t be good) Madge started telling us what dish soap to use back in 1960 so that’s what I did. Well she wouldn’t lie, at least I wouldn’t think so.
For 64 years I have been faithfully using the stuff, probably used a tanker truckload by now. I have to admit, on occasion I have bought the President’s Choice brand because it’s the very same colour and the bottles are identical. I suspect both came out of the same barrel – but I only buy it when it is on special.
A few years ago, after the Exxon Valdez went down and dumped 53.1 million gallons of oil in the Pacific, experts found that for washing little oil-soaked duckies and other wildfowl Dawn dish soap was one of the best detergents to use. I’ll consider switching over to Dawn if I ever have to scrub down an oily duck, but for the moment I am sticking with Palmolive.
I worried for a while that my switching would put Madge out of work but I found out she died in 2004. Nevertheless I carry on. I don’t believe she is watching me from above, but you never know.
I am a very loyal consumer. In the 60s and 70s I drank Dow Ale until two bozos died from drinking it and the brewery dumped a million gallons into the St, Lawrence. By drinking it, I mean 30 pints a day drinking it.
Speaking of beer, I wrote an article years ago and mentioned Innis and Gunn Scottish beer. Their ad agency was quite pleased and sent me a six-pack. I have been quite faithful and buy it fairly often, not all the time because I am a scotch and rye drinker, once in a while Kentucky bourbon, occasionally rum or tequila if there’s nothing else, but most of the time I buy Innis and Gunn beer.
Now here is where a problem has started. Last year, I bought a few of their Christmas gift packs to give to my friends, family and other alcoholics. There were four beers and a classy goblet, a wonderful gift I thought.
However, and I hesitate to tell you this, two of the bottles were of The Original, a wonderful beer that would be the equal, if not better, than any of the award-winning beers around the world. The second was another fine beer, aged in a Caribbean Rum cask and it was delightful. Now here is where I am in trouble, the other, Kriek 2023, was aged in a cask along with ripe Scottish cherries. I found it, how can I put this, almost as bad as those dreadful vodka coolers young people are drinking these days. Perhaps it was the cherries, maybe the pits should have been removed, or the cherries left out altogether. I don’t want the brew master to be fired but at least he or she should be given a good talking-to.
Do you see my problem here? if I was to put that damning revue in a column and Mr. Innis or Mr. Gunn find out about it, and sure in hell someone will blab, I will be toast. Some afternoon shortly after the word gets out, a Scottish pipe band will march up Woodside Drive and a huge highlander in full regalia will toss a 20-foot caber right through our front door.
In defence of the Kriek, some of my friends liked it. On the other hand, a couple of them will drink anything with alcohol in it and that includes shaving lotion and nibbling on stick cologne.
One of the problems of being a world-renowned columnist is hundreds, if not thousands, of loyal readers base their daily lives on our sage advice and because of that we have to guarantee… we have to guarantee… that’s odd I think I hear drums and the skirl of pipes playing Scotland the Brave.
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