“They took the bar, the whole fucking bar.”

In what can only be described as a crime against nature, hundreds of bottles of Jack Daniels — some of it a century old — might be poured down the drain.

Channel 4 News in Nashville has the story:

Here’s a sobering thought: Hundreds of bottles of Jack Daniel’s whiskey, some of it almost 100 years old, may be unceremoniously poured down a drain because authorities suspect it was being sold by someone without a license.

Officials seized 2,400 bottles late last month during warehouse raids in Nashville and Lynchburg, the southern Tennessee town where the whiskey is distilled.

“Punish the person, not the whiskey,” said an outraged Kyle MacDonald, 28, a Jack Daniel’s drinker from British Columbia who promotes the whiskey on his blog. “Jack never did anything wrong, and the whiskey itself is innocent.”

Indeed, Mr. MacDonald, the whiskey is innocent.

The whiskey never hurt anyone.

In fact, it may be argued that the whiskey has life-sustaining powers more powerful than any herb, vitamin or elixir.

Issues of health aside, the disposing of century-old Jack Daniels that never hurt anyone and exists only to bring a little light into our otherwise bleak lives is a sin. I liken it to burning perfectly good weed, just because someone was selling it illegally.

Think of the good work that could be done with the whiskey. Think of the money that could be raised by auctioning it off. Think of the spirits that could be lifted simply by letting bloggers in L.A. drink it.

I’ve got a friend with Kansas City connections. And every time he returns from the Midwest, he brings me a bottle of Jack, from a vintage not available easily in Los Angeles. How I look forward to that first, smooth sip … it’s mother’s milk.

Tonight, I’ll go home and pour myself a few fingers of the amber liquid. And I’ll lift the glass to my lips and drink, slowly to savor the smooth taste. And as I roll my friend Jack around my mouth before swallowing, I’ll say a little prayer for innocent whiskey wasted.

Father of the Week:

Michigan boy, 13, charged with drunken driving
Police say dad, too drunk to drive, gave keys of truck to his son

CLIO, Michigan - A police officer checking on a truck that got stuck in the mud at a city park was startled to find a 13-year-old boy behind the wheel. The boy’s father, who was sitting in the passenger seat, told police he had had too much to drink and let his son drive. The boy had been drinking, too, police said. “(The boy) even said he didn’t want to drive because he was too drunk,” McLellan told The Flint Journal for a story published Thursday.

President of the Week:

Mugabe paid witch doctor in
‘gas from rocks’ scam

HARARE, Zimbabwe (AP) — President Robert Mugabe has said ministers at a Cabinet meeting he agreed to pay two head of cattle and three buffaloes to a woman who claimed she could produce gasoline out of rocks, the official media reported Friday. Mugabe later ordered the woman’s arrest on fraud charges.

The Herald newspaper, a government mouthpiece, reported the woman claiming to be a tribal healer, known in the West as a witch doctor, also took large sums of money, a car and a piece of land from the nation’s highest ranking politicians, promising in return to use spells to produce diesel fuel from rocks in the bush outside the provincial town of Chinhoyi, 70 miles northwest of Harare.

Instead of invoking spirits, the woman bought diesel and piped it into the rocks, the newspaper reported.

Well, it’s really the same as this, isn’t it?

Governor of the Week:

Ga. Governor Prays for Rain at Capitol
ATLANTA - Georgia Gov. Sonny Perdue stepped up to a podium outside the state Capitol on Tuesday and led a solemn crowd of several hundred people in a prayer for rain on his drought-stricken state.

“We’ve come together here simply for one reason and one reason only: To very reverently and respectfully pray up a storm,” Perdue said after a choir provided a hymn.

Perdue also let us know just why Georgia is having this problem: it’s the damned shellfish. That’s right:

Gov. Sonny Perdue says the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has been allowing Georgia’s water to flow to endangered mussels and other species in Florida and thereby preventing state residents from sprinkling their yards and hosing down their cars.

“I’m telling you, when it comes to choosing between mussels and drinking water for children, I’m about fed up with this mess,” Perdue said after declaring an emergency this month as Atlanta’s main source of water dropped to what the state said was a 90-day supply.

Bitchfight of the Week, cont’d:

In his final assessment, Fabio told OK! ?You have to be a low-class, scumbag to start calling a woman a name. If you?re a man, you should never. You should be a gentleman. These women were with me and as a man I defend them. He [Clooney] was lucky he ran out of the restaurant. He?s not even half a man.?

Cult of the Week:

And if a Doomsday cult threatens suicide, doesn’t everyone win?

Of course we did, goddammit!

From the NYT:

?Even growing up around it, little shards of the language stayed alive in our mouths and came out as slang,? he said, spouting a string of words that sounded straight out of a James Cagney movie.

?Snazzy? comes from ?snasach,? which means polished, glossy or elegant.*

The word ?scram? comes from ?scaraim,? meaning ?I get away.? The word ?swell? comes from ?sóúil,? meaning luxurious, rich and prosperous, and ?sucker? comes from ?sách úr,? or, loosely, fat cat.

There is ?Say uncle!? (?anacal? means mercy), ?razzmatazz,? and ?malarkey,? and even expressions like ?gee whiz? and ?holy cow? and ?holy mackerel? are Anglicized versions of Irish expressions, he said. So are ?doozy,? ?hokum,? ?humdinger,? ?jerk,? ?punk,? ?swanky,? ?grifter,? ?bailiwick,? ?sap,? ?mug,? ?wallop,? ?helter-skelter,? ?shack,? ?shanty,? ?slob,? ?slacker? and ?knack.?

*ahem.

In Wednesday’s Daily Breeze — the South Bay’s choice for 113 years — staff writer Andrea Woodhouse brings the news that barflies in Hermosa Beach are being targeted by political activists brought in by bar owners seeking to influence city council-hopefuls on issues related to boozing in the bay.

I actually love Woodhouse’s lead here:

The patrons at Hermosa Beach bars got more than wasted these past few weeks.

They’ve also been schooled on the local political scene from workers recruited by bar owners to register voters and collect contact information so they can be steered toward City Council candidates likely to fight for their right to party.

You’ve got to love any city where bar owners are a “powerful lobbying group” and local drunks are considered key constituents.

Here’s the ad campaign organizer John Gurrola wrote, according to Woodhouse:

To help advocate for bar and restaurant owners, Gurrola earlier this month posted an ad on an online classified service, craigslist.org, calling for “energetic, attractive, approachable and outgoing” people willing to talk to revelers outside Hermosa hot spots like Sangria, Blue 32, Dragon and Hennessey’s about voting in the upcoming election.

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In other Hermosa Beach-bar-news, a second Woodhouse piece in Wednesday’s Breeze details the impending sale of the town’s landmark Mermaids bar. (If there is a better journalism job than covering bars in Hermosa Beach, California, I’d like to know what it is … )

The regulars at the Mermaid, the iconic, wood-paneled, Naugahyde-

upholstered watering hole in Hermosa Beach, must be be crying in their beers.

The Strand-front property housing the landmark bar in Hermosa Beach has hit the market for $27 million, nearly three months after longtime owner Quentin “Boots” Thelen died, said his stepdaughter, Diana Albergate.

Thelen’s six heirs, including Albergate, didn’t struggle with their decision to sell - with the estate tax man knocking, they didn’t have a choice, she said.

“We hate to have to do this, but the federal government demands its unfair share,” Albergate said.

Also for sale is an adjacent 6,900-square-foot building that faces Pier Plaza and houses four businesses - Mexican restaurant Cantina Real, Lappert’s Ice Cream, Avanti Jewelers and Pier Surf. The family is asking $6.5 million for the property.

Sipping a vodka tonic at his favorite drinking spot, Tom Barnett said he was stunned to hear the Mermaid’s land was for sale.

As change swirled through the city’s gleaming Pier Avenue during the last half century, the Mermaid has remained a constant, with good drinks and great people, he said.

“I just can’t believe they’re going to do this,” the 73-year-old said. “It’ll break my heart.”