F:AT Thursday - Crokinole and Earth's Coldest Beer

Once upon a time, Connecticut was the industrial capital of America. Everything from guns, to type writers, to brushes were made here. Once upon a time, Connecticut east of the river was filled with textile mills, paper mills, and gunpowder plants. Once upon a time more bolts of silk were made here than anywhere else on the globe. Once upon a time...but those days are long past.

The mills sit empty now. Decaying reminders of a time when Connecticut was known for more than just pushing papers and selling insurance. Some have been converted into apartments and some have been torn down but enough remain so they one cannot forget that once we made things.

In the town of Rockville, the mills were in the narrow valley by the river. A fast flowing stream that was used for power before electricity was available. On the steep hills rising up from the river, the mill managers and owners built their homes. And these too remain as relics of a bygone time.

When the mills died the houses became empty as well. Too big and too expensive for a regular family to inhabit. In a neighborhood too unfashionable for the wealthy to wish to move in.

It was one of these Victorian mansions that the B.P.O.E. , the Elks, decided to make their club house. It was there, along with a few others and sponsored by Engineer Al, that I was made a member of their order last night.

It was F:AT Thursday

So what with the ham diner, the induction ceremony, and the drinking of Earth's Coldest Beer, we didn't have much time for board games. Well not boardgames of the stripe we normally talk about but we did play a few rounds of Crokinole.

Crokinole is a game ideally suited to tossing back a few beers and shooting the breeze. Sure, Al is an expert flicker and if you ever played Pitch Car, Ascending Empires, or Catacombs against him you will know that particular frustration when he makes some bizarre shot designed not only to win him the game but to crush your spirit. 

And so it was last night as Al, and Drummer Joe who was his partner, made shot after shot and destroyed Happy Jack and myself. If I were capable of feeling shame, I would almost call it humiliation. Almost.

As I said, there is no Crokinole without empty talk of inconsequential matters. Tonight's topic was comedians in film. We first discussed Robin Williams and tried to name one movie he is in that is truly enjoyable. Alas we could not. Good Morning Vietnam was mentioned and I remember thinking it was ok when it came out but it has not aged well nor has Williams' whole schtick really. And we all groaned when we talked of his turn at the genie in Aladdin.

Then we talked of Steve Martin. Of his true genius of his early days in stand up. The enduring quality of his older movies such as The Jerk and the quality of less wacky fare like Roxanne and L.A. Story. To the long slow slide to such crap as Cheaper by Dozen and The Pink Panther.

I always think of his TV Special and one skit he did where he was a tortoise wrangler and had to break the fieriest turtle of them all..."Is that the way you want it? "

"Yep, that's the way I want it."