Thanks to all who tested the DISQUS widget for comments. However, after discovering some issues with its handling at Safari and Opera, it was removed.
Decided to go back to blogger comments without the captcha requirement. What that means is that I will moderate all comments once again. Yuch. I'll see how long that lasts until I tire of it.
A future approach may be to have all register to be able to comment. That may be the next solution if I tire of the moderating routine.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Comments and Captchas
Those captchas are a pain. When trying to comment on other blogs, it takes at least two tries for me to find something I can read and then enter into the little box. Getting notes from some readers who would comment and have the same issue, I decided to do something drastic. I have implemented DISQUS as a widget for comments. I believe it has been installed correctly. Not sure just yet. May take a day before I know for sure.
What does this mean to those who wish to comment on my blog. Not sure I entirely understand the process. I've done a little testing from a couple of different browsers. Clicking on the "comments" word, will bring up a menu to register or login. There are choices other than the DISQUS. I chose DISQUS to register my Yahoo email address. After I did that I was able to make my comment without having to enter captchas.
Once registered, subsequent comments will be easier since it will know who you are.
This will continue to be a test of the new system. In this process -- you the reader and -- I am in the same situation. We will be learning as we go.
Don't want to comment here, send me an email. Click on the "email me" icon and shoot me your thoughts or experience with the new comment system.
Don't get a whole lot of comments now. With this new program, I may get even less. That's okay.
What does this mean to those who wish to comment on my blog. Not sure I entirely understand the process. I've done a little testing from a couple of different browsers. Clicking on the "comments" word, will bring up a menu to register or login. There are choices other than the DISQUS. I chose DISQUS to register my Yahoo email address. After I did that I was able to make my comment without having to enter captchas.
Once registered, subsequent comments will be easier since it will know who you are.
This will continue to be a test of the new system. In this process -- you the reader and -- I am in the same situation. We will be learning as we go.
Don't want to comment here, send me an email. Click on the "email me" icon and shoot me your thoughts or experience with the new comment system.
Don't get a whole lot of comments now. With this new program, I may get even less. That's okay.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Natural Wrinkle Remover
The destination was the bee hive in the desert behind the RV park. Another good day for a hike. A previous hike to the bee hive was on January 10th. That is when this photo was taken. The grotto is about ten feet up on the north side of a wash. No activity on January 10th. Too cold.
Not so on this recent hike. My plan was to get some photos of the bees coming and going. Well. Those guys were not in a mood to be photoed. No sooner was I focused, when the hive sent out a kamikaze bee who headed straight for me. Saw him coming. He stung me right above the eye. I slapped at my forehead and moved down the wash. Way down the wash. The other hikers never moved and were ignored.
Still wanted a photo of the active bees. Headed back and stood among the other hikers. No sooner was I standing there, and another bee headed straight for me. The message was clear. Wandrin Lloyd had to go. Other hikers could stay. C'mon. What did I do.
Headed down the wash away from the hive and looked for arrow heads, pot shards or any unusual rock. That was when I spotted a thunderegg. Only about an inch across. Was it really a thunderegg. Well. It was. It wasn't hollow, but the smash of the almost sphere displayed an interior of crystals of some sort. Sorry no photo. But thanks to the bees, it was a great find.
Now that the bee sting has had two days to mature, those wrinkles above the left eye aren't as noticeable. Cheaper than botox.
Not so on this recent hike. My plan was to get some photos of the bees coming and going. Well. Those guys were not in a mood to be photoed. No sooner was I focused, when the hive sent out a kamikaze bee who headed straight for me. Saw him coming. He stung me right above the eye. I slapped at my forehead and moved down the wash. Way down the wash. The other hikers never moved and were ignored.
Still wanted a photo of the active bees. Headed back and stood among the other hikers. No sooner was I standing there, and another bee headed straight for me. The message was clear. Wandrin Lloyd had to go. Other hikers could stay. C'mon. What did I do.
Headed down the wash away from the hive and looked for arrow heads, pot shards or any unusual rock. That was when I spotted a thunderegg. Only about an inch across. Was it really a thunderegg. Well. It was. It wasn't hollow, but the smash of the almost sphere displayed an interior of crystals of some sort. Sorry no photo. But thanks to the bees, it was a great find.
Now that the bee sting has had two days to mature, those wrinkles above the left eye aren't as noticeable. Cheaper than botox.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
An Observation
The Tucson Festival of Books was held this past weekend. Roaming around the mall area stopping at a few of the many booths, I stopped at the University of Arizona Alumni tent. With the large crowd standing around, it must be interesting. It was. The alumnus (don't recall his name) was an illustrator for an Arizona paper (don't recall that either). He was funny.
During the course of his chat and drawing of charicatures, as a segue to another subject, he asked the audience how many Republicans in the audience. About five hands went up. How many Democrats. About 25 hands went up. How many Independents. About 15 hands admitted their independence. The total hands raised was no where equal to the size of the audience.
From that showing of hands, the conclusions from this unscientific observation:
During the course of his chat and drawing of charicatures, as a segue to another subject, he asked the audience how many Republicans in the audience. About five hands went up. How many Democrats. About 25 hands went up. How many Independents. About 15 hands admitted their independence. The total hands raised was no where equal to the size of the audience.
From that showing of hands, the conclusions from this unscientific observation:
- Showing of hands reflects the political makeup of Tucson.
- Republicans read only one book -- The Book.
- Most Republicans don't come to book fairs because they don't read.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Almost A New iPad
After a hike in Madera canyon in the Santa Ritas with Boonie, we headed down to the nearest coffee shop -- ten miles distant. There, Boonie with coffee and Wandrin Lloyd with tea, we continued our trail conversations of things and issues. The iPad was with me just in case we needed to get on the internet for answers. You just never know.
After an hour, it was time to move along. Outside the coffee shop in the parking lot was a farmers' market. I needed some nourishment (Boonie had a muffin at the coffee shop). Hot dog would work. Okay. Probably not grass fed. But I was hungry. So a hotdog it was without the bun. With extra onions and salsa, I was good to go. That was when Boonie pointed out the booth selling grass fed beef.
Holding the iPad in one hand and eating the hot dog with the other, it was darned near impossible to get my wallet out to buy some grass fed beef. Couldn't buy too much since the two cubic foot freezer was almost full. Paid the man for the purchase and went on my way with grass fed beef in a bag and the hot dog in the other hand.
Almost back home when I realized that I had left the iPad on the table at the grass fed beef vendor's booth. Pulled off the road at the first opportunity. Not a phone number on the package of meat. So I continued my drive home to get on the internet to find a phone number.
Before I arrived home, I made up end games for the loss of the iPad. A new one. Perhaps. Since the New iPad was out, I could certainly spring for an iPad2 at $100 off. Is there a way to register a lost/stolen iPad's serial number so that it could not be used again. Of course, there are probably hackers out there that could get around that little issue for a fee. Would I be able to restore from the backup of my iPad1 to a new iPad. Those are just the kind of thoughts that cause stress.
Got home. On the internet. Two phone calls. Soon I was talking to the guy who manned the booth. A short while later I was back on the road to where the guy was parked about twenty minutes away in Tucson.
The thought of a new iPad evaporated. Not that I really wanted one. Just what did the new iPad have. A camera. (There's always a camera with me.) Better resolution. That's all the new iPad offers. Not a very good reason to upgrade. My iPad is most frequently used as an eReader. In lieu of a morning newspaper, my news source is via iPad news apps. That usage certainly does not require an upgrade.
Whew. Escaped the purchase of a new iPad.
Epilogue... Many times I thought of pasting my fun card to the inside of the iPad cover. Never happened. Experience is a good teacher. That fun card is now there. If the card had been there when I left it on the table at the farmers market, the phone call might have beat me to the freeway.
After an hour, it was time to move along. Outside the coffee shop in the parking lot was a farmers' market. I needed some nourishment (Boonie had a muffin at the coffee shop). Hot dog would work. Okay. Probably not grass fed. But I was hungry. So a hotdog it was without the bun. With extra onions and salsa, I was good to go. That was when Boonie pointed out the booth selling grass fed beef.
Holding the iPad in one hand and eating the hot dog with the other, it was darned near impossible to get my wallet out to buy some grass fed beef. Couldn't buy too much since the two cubic foot freezer was almost full. Paid the man for the purchase and went on my way with grass fed beef in a bag and the hot dog in the other hand.
Almost back home when I realized that I had left the iPad on the table at the grass fed beef vendor's booth. Pulled off the road at the first opportunity. Not a phone number on the package of meat. So I continued my drive home to get on the internet to find a phone number.
Before I arrived home, I made up end games for the loss of the iPad. A new one. Perhaps. Since the New iPad was out, I could certainly spring for an iPad2 at $100 off. Is there a way to register a lost/stolen iPad's serial number so that it could not be used again. Of course, there are probably hackers out there that could get around that little issue for a fee. Would I be able to restore from the backup of my iPad1 to a new iPad. Those are just the kind of thoughts that cause stress.
Got home. On the internet. Two phone calls. Soon I was talking to the guy who manned the booth. A short while later I was back on the road to where the guy was parked about twenty minutes away in Tucson.
The thought of a new iPad evaporated. Not that I really wanted one. Just what did the new iPad have. A camera. (There's always a camera with me.) Better resolution. That's all the new iPad offers. Not a very good reason to upgrade. My iPad is most frequently used as an eReader. In lieu of a morning newspaper, my news source is via iPad news apps. That usage certainly does not require an upgrade.
Whew. Escaped the purchase of a new iPad.
Epilogue... Many times I thought of pasting my fun card to the inside of the iPad cover. Never happened. Experience is a good teacher. That fun card is now there. If the card had been there when I left it on the table at the farmers market, the phone call might have beat me to the freeway.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Travel Is My Life
As that day draws near when I hitch up and move on, I have mixed feelings about moving on. If the predictions of rain next weekend become actuality, I will stay a couple of extra days. Since there is no place I must be, I will just hunker down until a sunny day reappears.
It appears that travel has become my life. These three months will be the longest I have stayed in one place in these past ten plus years. There is something comforting about stopping for an extended period of time. I know where the grocery store is. I've found the less expensive fuel stops. I figure out the less congested routes around town. I can receive UPS shipments. That sounds like permanent living. I can actually give directions to other travelers. That may be the sign that I've been here too long.
After three months, there is a strong itch to hitch up and explore new areas. Or even explore some missed stops on routes traveled before.
Staying camped in Tucson is an attractive thought. The weather will continue to warm. Blooming of cactus and wild flowers will become more colorful each week. There will be time to visit some of those other unexplored Tucson stops. Just a repeat visit to the Sonora Desert Museum would be nice.
Staying camped might have happened If I didn't have to renew the drivers license this summer. It's the 2012 commitment. Lots of miles and exploring to be done between Tucson and Rapid City, South Dakota. If I didn't enjoy the exploring and travel, it would be less expensive and quicker just to get on an airplane and return two days later. Where is the fun in that.
However, my curiosity and exploring itch wins. My 2012 travels begin in about a week.
Where does the road go. Great scenery along the way. Interesting stories and people. Yes. Travel is my life.
It appears that travel has become my life. These three months will be the longest I have stayed in one place in these past ten plus years. There is something comforting about stopping for an extended period of time. I know where the grocery store is. I've found the less expensive fuel stops. I figure out the less congested routes around town. I can receive UPS shipments. That sounds like permanent living. I can actually give directions to other travelers. That may be the sign that I've been here too long.
After three months, there is a strong itch to hitch up and explore new areas. Or even explore some missed stops on routes traveled before.
Staying camped in Tucson is an attractive thought. The weather will continue to warm. Blooming of cactus and wild flowers will become more colorful each week. There will be time to visit some of those other unexplored Tucson stops. Just a repeat visit to the Sonora Desert Museum would be nice.
Staying camped might have happened If I didn't have to renew the drivers license this summer. It's the 2012 commitment. Lots of miles and exploring to be done between Tucson and Rapid City, South Dakota. If I didn't enjoy the exploring and travel, it would be less expensive and quicker just to get on an airplane and return two days later. Where is the fun in that.
However, my curiosity and exploring itch wins. My 2012 travels begin in about a week.
Where does the road go. Great scenery along the way. Interesting stories and people. Yes. Travel is my life.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Book: 52 Loaves by William Alexander
The complete title is 52 Loaves: One Man's Relentless Pursuit of Truth, Meaning, and a Perfect Crust
Alexander is the author of a previous read -- The $64 Tomato (my mini Review). Taking an obsession to a new level, Alexander tries to reproduce at home a bread that he had in a restaurant. Every week it is a new loaf with changes somewhere in the process from the mix of ingredients, the bread rise times or the baking. With the fanatic search under way, he manages to purchase numerous recipe books on bread baking. He attends bread baking classes. He grows his own wheat to use in his bread. He was obsessed.
Alexander does a great job of poking fun of himself in his year long obsession. For me the learning is always a draw and read with interest the history of wheat and the endless varieties, yeast and its manufacture, and the bread recipes found in ancient texts.
52 Loaves is an easy read that is fast moving and entertaining with a frequent laugh out loud.
If the taste for the perfect bread peaks your interest, bread recipes are included so you don't have to experiment for 52 weeks.
A personal footnote on bread....
Unfortunately, breads can no longer be in my diet due to gluten intolerance. But when I could handle the gluten, bread was a part of the diet. Especially with lots of butter.
About 20 years ago, I had one of those bread machines. (Today you can find them at the thrift store.) Raisin bread and rye bread were my favorites. Really a loaf of bread was too much for one guy. The loaf was rarely finished. Decided to share the extra bread with the squirrels and birds in my back yard. Worked fine. The loaf was finished off. However, the next time I was baking bread with the screen door open the aromas called the squirrels to look through the door. This was not going to work. Decided to stop feeding the local wild life after that.
Another memory is of my mother baking bread. Along with the laundry (wringer washer and hung on the clothes line and ironing every piece of the laundry including the underwear), the daily cooking (no fast food and no microwave), and farm chores (milking cows twice a day), she also made four to five loaves of bread every week. No doubt punching and kneading the bread contributed to her shoulder problems later in life.
Alexander is the author of a previous read -- The $64 Tomato (my mini Review). Taking an obsession to a new level, Alexander tries to reproduce at home a bread that he had in a restaurant. Every week it is a new loaf with changes somewhere in the process from the mix of ingredients, the bread rise times or the baking. With the fanatic search under way, he manages to purchase numerous recipe books on bread baking. He attends bread baking classes. He grows his own wheat to use in his bread. He was obsessed.
Alexander does a great job of poking fun of himself in his year long obsession. For me the learning is always a draw and read with interest the history of wheat and the endless varieties, yeast and its manufacture, and the bread recipes found in ancient texts.
52 Loaves is an easy read that is fast moving and entertaining with a frequent laugh out loud.
If the taste for the perfect bread peaks your interest, bread recipes are included so you don't have to experiment for 52 weeks.
A personal footnote on bread....
Unfortunately, breads can no longer be in my diet due to gluten intolerance. But when I could handle the gluten, bread was a part of the diet. Especially with lots of butter.
About 20 years ago, I had one of those bread machines. (Today you can find them at the thrift store.) Raisin bread and rye bread were my favorites. Really a loaf of bread was too much for one guy. The loaf was rarely finished. Decided to share the extra bread with the squirrels and birds in my back yard. Worked fine. The loaf was finished off. However, the next time I was baking bread with the screen door open the aromas called the squirrels to look through the door. This was not going to work. Decided to stop feeding the local wild life after that.
Another memory is of my mother baking bread. Along with the laundry (wringer washer and hung on the clothes line and ironing every piece of the laundry including the underwear), the daily cooking (no fast food and no microwave), and farm chores (milking cows twice a day), she also made four to five loaves of bread every week. No doubt punching and kneading the bread contributed to her shoulder problems later in life.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Where Is Home
When I said "... when I get home", I was shocked to realize that may have been the first time I have used that phrase when referring to the home on wheels in which I live. My usual responses were: "...when I get to where Wandrin Wagon is parked"; "... where I am parked"; "...back to the campground" etc. Obviously it was a conscious choice of words instead of using the word "home".
I've lived in Wandrin Wagon for over ten years. It certainly would qualify as home. Why not refer to it as home. Good question.
Many of the RVers I meet along the road do have permanent homes and travel part of the year in their RVs. Others have rented out their homes while they travel. Relatives may live in the homes of others. None of them refer to their RV on the road as home. When they say home, they mean the permanent sticks and bricks building even if they haven't lived there in a while.
No doubt home means different things to many people. Is a definition of home a result of childhood experiences. Does a home imply a rooted existence -- a place to go back to. Or is a home where you shower, sleep and a place to make meals.
There is the bumper sticker "HOME IS WHERE I PARK IT". That can be seen on the rear of many RVs. Then there is that old cliche "Home Is Where The Heart Is". Might both apply to any nomadic person whether living in a five slide fifth wheel home or living out of the trunk of a car. Essentially, home is where you are living.
In the future, "...if I remember where Wandrin Wagon was parked, I can always find home." And that place will be called "home".
I've lived in Wandrin Wagon for over ten years. It certainly would qualify as home. Why not refer to it as home. Good question.
Many of the RVers I meet along the road do have permanent homes and travel part of the year in their RVs. Others have rented out their homes while they travel. Relatives may live in the homes of others. None of them refer to their RV on the road as home. When they say home, they mean the permanent sticks and bricks building even if they haven't lived there in a while.
No doubt home means different things to many people. Is a definition of home a result of childhood experiences. Does a home imply a rooted existence -- a place to go back to. Or is a home where you shower, sleep and a place to make meals.
There is the bumper sticker "HOME IS WHERE I PARK IT". That can be seen on the rear of many RVs. Then there is that old cliche "Home Is Where The Heart Is". Might both apply to any nomadic person whether living in a five slide fifth wheel home or living out of the trunk of a car. Essentially, home is where you are living.
In the future, "...if I remember where Wandrin Wagon was parked, I can always find home." And that place will be called "home".
Friday, March 2, 2012
A Closer Look
Scenic photos have their place and can be interesting. In this photo, I've included my companion hikers on the trail below. With that saguaro right in the center of the photo, this shot would not be included in the scenic post card rack. The photo needs some balance. Oops. There is that word again. Okay. The photo lacks symmetry.
Much of hiking these rocky trails is paying the attention to the placement of your hiking boot on the trail. Lots of loose rock. Don't take that loose rock for granite. Those small rocks are the size of marbles and you may end up on your butt.
When not admiring the scenery in the distance, the wild flowers along the trail catch the hikers eye in much the same way that color will draw a honey bee or other insect to assist in pollination. This is the sight as the honey bee makes a landing on the brittle brush blossom.
My ability to identify wild flowers is limited. This small blue flower cluster is one of those. After searching through my wild flower guide, I've come to the conclusion that it will remain my original identification as a LBFC -- little blue flower cluster. Each flower is about a half inch across.
Perhaps not as showy as a wild flower, but just as important in the ecology of the environment are the lichen that decorate many of the rock surfaces.
Insects are also present. This tarantula hawk managed to stay still long enough for me to get a photo. Didn't know what it was at the time I took the photo. That identification was later searching the internet. Wikipedia is the source for this description of the tarantula hawk which hunts tarantulas as food for its larvae.
Distant scenery is great, but there are times to take a close look of the world at your feet. A very different view is seen at hiking boot level.
Much of hiking these rocky trails is paying the attention to the placement of your hiking boot on the trail. Lots of loose rock. Don't take that loose rock for granite. Those small rocks are the size of marbles and you may end up on your butt.
When not admiring the scenery in the distance, the wild flowers along the trail catch the hikers eye in much the same way that color will draw a honey bee or other insect to assist in pollination. This is the sight as the honey bee makes a landing on the brittle brush blossom.
My ability to identify wild flowers is limited. This small blue flower cluster is one of those. After searching through my wild flower guide, I've come to the conclusion that it will remain my original identification as a LBFC -- little blue flower cluster. Each flower is about a half inch across.
Perhaps not as showy as a wild flower, but just as important in the ecology of the environment are the lichen that decorate many of the rock surfaces.
Insects are also present. This tarantula hawk managed to stay still long enough for me to get a photo. Didn't know what it was at the time I took the photo. That identification was later searching the internet. Wikipedia is the source for this description of the tarantula hawk which hunts tarantulas as food for its larvae.
Distant scenery is great, but there are times to take a close look of the world at your feet. A very different view is seen at hiking boot level.
Monday, February 27, 2012
What Were They Thinking
Why try to improve on a perfect product and brand name. Crown Royal tried and failed. The new product is Crown Royal Black. When I first heard about the new product, I wondered how much better could "Black" be versus the non-Black.
When I did an internet search, I found at the Crown Royal site that Crown Royal Black is "A bolder, darker and more robust whiskey blended at 90 proof, yet with the signature smoothness of Crown Royal. It has a deeper oak background with dark, sweet, maple notes and a light vanilla flavor towards the finish."
In chats with others who knew that Crown Royal was a favored liquor for me, I was told that it was a sipping bourbon. Don't care for bourbon and that was the end of any thoughts about Crown Royal Black. Until...
A road acquaintance passed through town on his way back east. Knowing my tastes, Jim brought me a bottle of Crown Royal Black. I apologized that since I wasn't a bourbon drinker, I was probably not going to enjoy it. Perhaps he could give it to another who liked bourbon. Nothing doing. It was a gift. I thanked him for his generosity as we continued our conversation about his new Sportsmobile.
Jim left me with the gift on my table: the bottle of Crown Royal Black sitting in a black box and the bottle was in a black bag. Since it was there, I decided I would do a taste test that afternoon at my personal social hour before dinner.
Four o'clock arrived. The routine was the same as if I was drinking the original Crown Royal. Got out a glass. Put a half dozen ice cubes in the glass. Poured a single shot (the usual is two shots) of the Crown Royal Black into the glass and sat down at the table. Took a sip. Sure tasted like bourbon to me. I don't like bourbon. Could never make that smooth enough for me. Took a second sip. Wasn't getting any better.
Took the glass to the sink and poured it down the drain. Rinsed out the glass and poured the real stuff. Much much better.
Good news is that I found one of my RVing neighbors in the park likes bourbon. So I re-gifted the Crown Royal Black. After tasting it, he said it reminded him of a bottled Manhatten. That reminded me of the words from the Crown Royal site: "...deeper oak background with dark, sweet, maple notes and a light vanilla flavor". Seems the marketing hype got that right.
If the Crown Royal market experts had checked with their existing customers, they would have found out that their customers drink Crown Royal because they don't like bourbon.
Was any market research done for this new product. Perhaps none. Could it have been the new company president who liked bourbon. It was a directive from the power seat. So there was the new product taking advantage of the cachet of the Crown Royal name.
Really. What were they thinking.
When I did an internet search, I found at the Crown Royal site that Crown Royal Black is "A bolder, darker and more robust whiskey blended at 90 proof, yet with the signature smoothness of Crown Royal. It has a deeper oak background with dark, sweet, maple notes and a light vanilla flavor towards the finish."
In chats with others who knew that Crown Royal was a favored liquor for me, I was told that it was a sipping bourbon. Don't care for bourbon and that was the end of any thoughts about Crown Royal Black. Until...
A road acquaintance passed through town on his way back east. Knowing my tastes, Jim brought me a bottle of Crown Royal Black. I apologized that since I wasn't a bourbon drinker, I was probably not going to enjoy it. Perhaps he could give it to another who liked bourbon. Nothing doing. It was a gift. I thanked him for his generosity as we continued our conversation about his new Sportsmobile.
Jim left me with the gift on my table: the bottle of Crown Royal Black sitting in a black box and the bottle was in a black bag. Since it was there, I decided I would do a taste test that afternoon at my personal social hour before dinner.
Four o'clock arrived. The routine was the same as if I was drinking the original Crown Royal. Got out a glass. Put a half dozen ice cubes in the glass. Poured a single shot (the usual is two shots) of the Crown Royal Black into the glass and sat down at the table. Took a sip. Sure tasted like bourbon to me. I don't like bourbon. Could never make that smooth enough for me. Took a second sip. Wasn't getting any better.
Took the glass to the sink and poured it down the drain. Rinsed out the glass and poured the real stuff. Much much better.
Good news is that I found one of my RVing neighbors in the park likes bourbon. So I re-gifted the Crown Royal Black. After tasting it, he said it reminded him of a bottled Manhatten. That reminded me of the words from the Crown Royal site: "...deeper oak background with dark, sweet, maple notes and a light vanilla flavor". Seems the marketing hype got that right.
If the Crown Royal market experts had checked with their existing customers, they would have found out that their customers drink Crown Royal because they don't like bourbon.
Was any market research done for this new product. Perhaps none. Could it have been the new company president who liked bourbon. It was a directive from the power seat. So there was the new product taking advantage of the cachet of the Crown Royal name.
Really. What were they thinking.
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