Last Call: Render Unto Caesar

Last Call is a new feature.  Every two weeks a new story, 300-500 words, usually taking place in a bar, pub, or nightclub.  They're true enough but names have been changed to protect the innocent.  And the not-so-innocent.

Kamloops, B.C.  Cactus Jack’s. 

The place is choked with six-foot cowboys wearing hats the size of Dobermans and belt buckles like satellite dishes.  Pop-country blaring from the speakers.  Wilson dragged me here.  I don’t know why.  A waitress in jean-shorts and a crop top walks past.  I look at Wilson.  The Beard nods.  I get it.

I Get Around

In the last few weeks Largely the Truth has turned up in a few new places around the web and in print.  I was profiled by Colin Newell on his CoffeeCrew Blog and submitted the guest blog post "Telus, Like Rock N Roll Dreams, Comes Through" to Russ Lolacher's customer service blog "The Upsell".

CBC Victoria did an audio feature on food blogs and alongside it listed a few from Vancouver Island.  It's only a list (and we actually had to submit our own names) but it bears mentioning.  You can find the list here.

On the print side of things I've been working as part of the start-up newspaper "Diversity Reporter".  Most of my contributions to DR are and will continue to be behind-the-scenes, doing things like editing articles for length and clarity, but my name will pop up on a byline from time-to-time.  The first issue, released this past week, includes a condensed version of this site's Cabin 12 review.

Diversity Reporter is a free, bi-weekly newspaper aimed at connecting with Victoria's ever-growing immigrant community.  It's available at grocery stores, coffee shops, mosques, temples and other locations all over the city.

Diversity Reporter is also on Twitter at @divreport

Bobtoberfest! | Heater Allen Brewing | 907 NE 10th Avenue | McMinnville, OR

Heater Allen brewmaster
Rick Allen

The original Oktoberfest was planned by the German government as a celebration of their decisive victory in the Second World War.  By the time they saw which way the wind was blowing it was too late to get their deposit back from the caterer so they went ahead and the celebration, unlike a lot of Germanic practices at the time, caught on around the world.  The old-timers at your local Edelweiss club would probably give a different answer.  Maybe something more to do with the horse-race organized to celebrate the 1810 marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig to Princess Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen.  The Germans prefer that story and since they throw a good party in the latter half of September I see no reason not to humour them.

Heater Allen Brewing, at 907 NE 10^th Ave in McMinnville, Oregon, celebrate every Oktoberfest with their signature Bobtoberfest brew: a smooth, malty, beer named in honour of brewmaster Rick Allen’s late brother Bob.  This year I happened to be in Portland visiting friends on the weekend of September 10^th and 11^th, the same weekend Heater-Allen hosted Bobtoberfest at their McMinnville brewery. 

Johnny's at Fife | 5211 20th Street East | Fife, WA

You mean I have to walk there?

When I arrived in Fife, Washington after a ten-hour, 600-mile drive from Butte, Montana, the first thing I wanted was a nap.  After checking into a Motel 6 by the highway I accomplished just that and upon waking the next thing I wanted wasn’t going to happen until the next time I saw my wife, so I settled for something to eat.  The immediate area had no shortage of fast-food mainstays but I try to avoid places like that whenever possible.  Instead, as my regular readers know, I prefer to seek out locally-owned restaurants, some of them thriving, some of them barely hanging on against a rising tide of bland chain restaurants. 

The Village Idiot Bar & Grill | 306 Mackenzie Avenue | Revelstoke, B.C

What’s in a name?  That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.  But just look at a rose: it’s lovely, red (I know there are other colours, but those are only for your grandmother), and it can buy you out of almost any trouble you’ve caused.  This is based on a sliding scale, from a single rose “just because”, to several dozen, “just because I crashed your car while playing slap and tickle with your sister”.  The rose is invincible to degradation, even if you call it “Duane Allman’s gangrenous foot”. 

Other things are not so lucky, and were they to have their names changed, their image would suffer accordingly.  Imagine, for instance, that during a moment of intimacy with your lady, you glance downward and ask if she wants to meet “The Ringing Disappointment”, or “Fester”.  Will her answer be a breathy “Oh yes”, or would your bed empty faster than a church pew when Father Flynn passes the plate?  If you named your restaurant “The Village Idiot”, would anyone take it seriously?