What I hear you saying is...

Waiter: Would monsieur care for another bottle of Chateau Latour?
Navin R Johnson: Ah yes, but no more 1966. Lets splurge! Bring us some fresh wine! The freshest you've got - this year! No more of this old stuff.

We were having dinner at Nami Nami recently, and I ordered some some Sake I hadn't heard of. It was fantastic. So great, in fact, I asked the waiter to bring out the bottle so I could remember what it looked like the next time I was out shopping for some.

I like to think that I'm as open-minded as the next guy about packaging, but I'm generally leery of any alcohol that comes in cans unless it's beer. So when the waiter returned to our table, proudly holding a can, my Spidey-sense went into overdrive. Impossible! Yet sure enough, the label was exactly as I'd ordered.

Well, dammit, can or no, I was going to drink this stuff because it tasted mighty fine. But later that night, I promised myself to do some research to figure out how this was possible.

The distiller's name is Kikusui (lit."Chrysanthemum Water"). I'd had their Junmai Ginjo before and liked it quite a bit. But it turns out the can that I had ordered is their draft sake, which they call Funaguchi. According to their website, here's why it's different:

"Funaguchi" is a truly fresh sake which is not subjected to either pasteurization or blending. Since the draft sake is delicate, we had to solve various problems before we could commercialize it.With our technology developed through the tradition and the enthusiasm for brewing, we strenuously solved each problem, and after trial and error, we were at last able to commercialize the draft sake in 1972. Funaguchi has an alcohol content of 19% which is slightly higher compared with the average sake. Being rich yet light in taste, Funaguchi presents slightly different mature tastes as it deepens its maturation in a can, fresh our of the brewery, six months later, and one year later.　

Anyhow, if you're interested, I've found it at both Nijiya and Mitsuwa Japanese super markets here in the South Bay. It runs about $5 for a 7oz can, which -- at 19% alc -- will get'cher motor running pretty quickly.

Kampai !

Tiger's certainly got the star power, but as Laura points out, this is a completely unbelievable image. No sane person can picture Tiger taking his super-model girlfriend out for a spin in a Buick without some hallucinogenic aid. It's like Kimberly-Clark resurrecting Kurt Cobain to shill for Depends undergarments.

Anyhow, in a similar vein, I got the same uncomfortable feeling while reading this NYTimes article about Bayer aspirin trying to 'get jiggy with it' by creating an on-line game to promote their Aleve brand of pain killer. No celebrities involved, but definitely an attempt to try and harness some kind of ephemeral cool factor.

Aleve is arthritis medicine. And if memory serves, it is (not surprisingly) branded like Ben Gay or Old Spice --probably better associated with "Matlock" than "Matt Damon". So I can see why it might be tempting to try and expand into a younger demographic.

But gawd what a train-wreck.

Their site is more awkward than a slow song at a junior-high school dance. Email a friend, fake comments, links to other splogs, video, donation to charity...etc. Every conceivable instrument of viral marketing is present on this site, yet in toto none of it remotely compelling.

Is this really the best they could do?

Here's a crazy, irresponsible thought: Canvas every skate park in America, and hand out free samples of Alleve with your site URL printed on the package. Take videos of kids wiping out and taking spills, and then post them on an Aleve sponsored web-site and have them vote on the best. Give the top 10 winners $1,000 in skate gear and a lifetime supply of Aleve.

Ok, nothing too radical here (although probably illegal), but that's after 25 seconds of thought and 2 bottles of Munich's finest. One would think that the brilliant minds of Madison avenue can do better than "The Alleviator".

But as Marksonland points out, the mindset of advertisers is so deep in the groove that trying to understand the rationale of their behavior is often befuddling.

Ah, the irony of a "drug" company failing at a "viral" marketing effort.

I'm still speechless and a little numb from the "Alleviator" so I'll close this post with a bonus Journey Clip:

Git yer Neil Schon on!

Right?

Scanning Yelp (which has lately been a mother-lode for locating superior local finds) I learned that a shop called SV Smog was only five blocks away and had a coupon deal for $56.

A great price, to be sure. What I was unprepared for, however, was the experience:

The shop is hidden. An unassuming section of a completely unremarkable auto-repair shop. I've seen it a million times... yet never seen it.

The shop is two simple bays and a front waiting area. There is no wall adornment of any kind, save a handful of mandatory state notices and a tiny magazine rack. The physical space spartan. Immaculate.

Sublime.

Within seconds, I am greeted by the rinphoche technician, Sukh, and offered a cold drink. My questions are answered effortlessly. Politely.

Yes, sir. No, sir.

Suhk exits and begins the test. I sip my bottled water. The fan in the corner oscillates silently with a cool breeze. I meditate on the liklihood of the car passing the test. I decide that it will.

Time passes.

Suhk returns with a neat package of paperwork. The car, too, has passed.

I am relieved and at peace.

What is the sound of one car passing?