Absolut Crap

While at the liquor store earlier today (replenishing supplies), I saw something Absolut-ly heinous and offensive:

Yes, you are correct: the limited edition Absolut Brooklyn. This offends me on quite a few levels, actually. The first level is the ridiculousness of the vodka's flavor: red apple and ginger. I kinda get the ginger part but my feeling on apple is that, unless you are under the age of ten, you should not be drinking apple-flavored beverages. The very thought of lifting a glass to my lips and getting a strong whiff of red delicious makes me want to barf.

Not that this new flavor combination should surprise me. Gross vodkas have been around for decades, though the first couple Absolut variations--Citron and Kurant--were relatively grown-up, at least. Now however, other wacky flavors are available: Berri Acai (does anyone actually know what acai tastes like?), Wild Tea (are there really people out there who wish their hard liquor tasted more like tea?), and the super-sweet and cloying sounding Absolut Mango.

The second level of offensiveness is, of course, the name.

I have nothing against the regular, old Brooklyn (a sometimes gritty/sometimes lovely place); it's even my second favorite borough. My problem is with the "new" Brooklyn: the one with all the greasy, bearded hipsters, trendy bistros, and just-completed, over-priced condos.

As someone who lived for over a decade in downtown Manhattan back when it was the center of the rock-n-roll universe, I resent Brooklyn for stealing that title from the city I love. Because, despite what it desperately wants to believe, Brooklyn will never be as cool as Manhattan. TRUST ME (because I've been to Brooklyn).

Sure, it's got some cool and funky parts, but they are tiny, hip pockets nestled within a sprawling, usually-dirty, often-dangerous, 99-cent-store borough. Brooklyn as a whole will never have Manhattan's energy. You know how the second you enter the city, its energy zips through you like electricity coursing through your veins? Doesn't happen in Brooklyn.

And the third level of offensiveness is to whom the vodka is marketed. It's certainly not meant to appeal to the bedraggled Brooklyn hipsters (and that's just the chicks), because they can't afford $18 cocktails. And surely Manhattan folks aren't clamoring for hooch named after the borough that stole their precious borough's thunder, right?

Which pretty much leaves Jersey...and/or other areas of the country aspiring to hipster-dom and trendiness.

And I resent any alcoholic beverage that's marketed to Jersey.

I Want My MTV

All last week, I was looking forward to the MTV Video Music Awards (which aired last night, 9/12). Yeah, I know...it's for 12-year-olds, so shoot me. But at 10:30 p.m., as I started getting ready for bed, I suddenly remembered: The goddamn, motherf*@#ing awards are on!! I had totally spaced. I rushed downstairs, thinking I'd catch the last half-hour, but because we were already taping both "Mad Men" and "Entourage," I couldn't watch without un-recording one of those shows. I sacrificed the first five minutes of "Entourage" to watch Chelsea Handler get in a hot tub with "The Jersey Shore" idiots (and emerge fake-pregnant--ha-ha, good one), but then turned the TV off, and went to bed. Forget it, I was too late.

What's the big deal, you ask? It's just a stupid awards show on a stupid channel with stupid shows and no videos, you say? Okay, you have a point...but I happen to love videos. Always have, always will.

"I want my MTV!" was music television's slogan in its early days, but it was also my most desperate wish. My grandmother, who lived in the next town over from us, got cable in the early 80's and therefore had MTV. Our more-upscale town, however, thought cable would rot our brains so they held out for years. No MTV for us.

As a result, when holidays came around and my family went to Grandma's house to celebrate, my brother and I (13 and 12 years old respectively) would park ourselves in front of the TV/MTV for six hours straight. I'm surprised my parents allowed this, but I guess they figured the silence was better than non-stop whining: "PLEEEEEEASE, can we watch MTV? PLEEEEEEASE?"

By age 12, I finally had outgrown the little-girl music I was previously obsessed with (Shaun Cassidy, Leif Garrett), and the videos on MTV--the first I'd ever seen--hit me like a ton of bricks. I was mesmerized by them: trying to figure out how exactly something could "Hurt So Good," examining Billy Idol's sexy lip curl as he rasped "Hot in the City," and watching a delicious Michael Hutchence circle that banquet table in "The One Thing." I'm sure there were some chick videos on, too, but I don't remember those.

Thus began my addiction to videos. It was hard to get my fix without cable or MTV, but luckily, the Boston area had a crummy local VHF channel, V66, that aired videos during certain time slots. They played some of the same videos as MTV but also gave local bands air time. I saw 'Til Tuesday's "Voices Carry" on V66 way before the song was a massive hit. Other Boston bands didn't hit it as big, but it doesn't mean they weren't good. Check out the video for Face to Face's "10-9-8," which I only ever saw on V66. (How hot are her red boots, by the way?)

I still watch videos whenever I can. At the gym, I often forgo my IPod to watch NYSC's video channel. If I have to suffer through Christinia DeBarge (could she really be the evil spawn of the DeBarge of the 80's?) to see the new Ting Tings vid, it's worth it. I even occasionally watch videos On Demand. (I mean, really, who does that?)