Last week I shared with you a poem written by a serviceman in Iraq which I hope touched you. Now if that didn’t, this recipe for Hare’s Eggnog certainly will.  

Are you sitting down? You better be because this recipe is the heart and soul of what is called an Old fashioned Christmas. That is not to say that Atheists, Agnostics, Jews, and Kwanzaa’s are not  welcome to it. It is the answer to the plaint, “Whatever happened to the old fashioned eggnog recipes?”  

                                              Hare’s Old Fashioned Eggnog

                                                                 Makes 20 cups

 

6 Eggs                                                  ½ of a  fifth of Bourbon

2 oz Rum                                              1 pint Whipping Cream

1 pint half and half                                 ¾ cup Sugar

1 qt  gourmet Eggnog mix

 

Beat Egg Yolks thoroughly

Add Sugar…beat

Add Booze, slowly beating

Add Half and Half, beating slowly

Add gourmet store bought Eggnog

Beat the Whip Cream to soft peaks and fold in.

Beat Egg Whites to stiff peaks and fold in.

Mixing it in front of your guests is part of the ritual. They will stand in line for it and come back for more…… and more. 

I am happy to report that the trainer at Sea World who was grabbed by the foot by an Orca whale and held under longer than he wished is recuperating after a delicate operation on his foot and will recover. Now that he is on the mend, I want to congratulate the surgeon who operated on him so successfully..  

He is one of the world’s great Orca-pedic surgeons. Okay, so those old morning jock habits die hard.. 

Although I have not cracked a mike for some time, I have not recovered from the reflexive habit of  spouting spontaneous punch lines under inappropriate circumstances.  

A week ago, I attended a Christmas gathering of powerful people, including a major Sacramento lawmaker. 

Earlier in the evening during social time among the guests, I had marveled at how the government is able to locate the origin of Mad Cow Disease by being able to trace the  sick cows back to the original field and herd., enabling the government to combat each plague  more effectively. This was my one enlightened factoid among influential  people. The rest of the evening, I spent listening so I could learn something.  

Then dinner time arrived, and I was placed next to the major lawmaker who, it turned out, was deeply involved with legislating against child molesters.  

It was his turn to be “on.” A dozen of us sat around the table, rapt, as he described the heavy burden of working in the Legislature on this bedeviling issue. “We have no way of tracking down molesters, Once they get into the general society, we lose them.” he said plaintively, and with great theater.  

A solemn silence fell over the table.  “I have a suggestion” I heard myself blurt out.  

Now all eyes were on me, including the lawmaker who was slightly irked that I was breaking his spell.  

“Tell me,” he said somewhat testily.

“Give each molester a cow.” I said brightly. 

I have never been able resist going for a punch line, PC or not. I got my  instincts from my mother, Beatrix, who  knew nothing about show business but who was supportive of me all of her 100 years, and was my  loving audience. She woke up every day of her life absolutely sure that something really good was going to happen that day. I inherited her genetics and became a successful morning man, able to spread joy because I had inherited mother’s body chemistry..  

I would often take her to a  movie and I recall one night when we were standing in line.

She was then in her 80’s and I happened to say something non-PC to her which was overheard by a very strident young woman, She bristled and said to mother, “Are you going to let him get away with that without saying something? He has just insulted women.”. My non showbiz mother laughed and said to this young  woman. “Don’t be offended honey. He  saw an opening for a  punch line and he had to go for it.” 

If you would please indulge me, my daughter,  Melissa Martin (Martin Casting, Inc.) has recently opened a casting and commercial production facility near Santa Monica, California.  It is a state of the art, 10,000 sq.ft. casting space with 8 large studios, conference room, full kitchen, and bullpens with Mac computers and multi-line phones for casting directors and producers. 

There is remote viewing in each room, so you can sit in your office and
watch your casting going on in another room, or from your own office located
offsite.

They offer Video Conferencing for production or any businesses.  It is
multi-point (multi-cities at once) and runs over ISDN or T-1.

Please visit the website: http://310castingstudios.com  and you will see why I am such a proud dad. For more info, call 310-775-6601 for the studio manager.  

It was a very wise man, Charles Darwin or was it Chuck Blore, who said that gifted people are often surpassed genetically by their offspring. Melissa not only inherited my genetics, but has surpassed me in both  talent and commercial instincts. But, what really gripes me: she is funnier than I am. 

Next week, I get back on track telling you allegories of past glories.