Talking to Max is always good, not only because I happen to like the schmuck, but also because it causes me to remember at least a small portion of the absurd yet fun stuff I did in college. (mojitos made from ciclon [the whole bottle] and the Adam West Batman movie, anyone? for those of you who are blissfully unaware, ciclon is a bacardi product that is 90% rum and 10% tequila. truly foul stuff)
It is always bizarre when a memory recurs to you, vivid as if it were yesterday, yet you are aware that had the memory not been jogged it likely was on the verge of fading from conscious recall. The example that came up tonight involved my laborious efforts to warm cognac as a sophomore. You see, my father had given me a small cognac sampler that Max and I were going to enjoy, and it seemed a grave injustice to drink cognac without heating it. (despite the fact that we were drinking it out of shot glasses) Lacking a snifter, I instead took an empty giant Altoids tin, melted some Chanukah candles onto the tin, and placed a wire basket upside down over the flame. Two rather flammable matzo boxes held the basket at the appropriate hight. I then placed the shot glasses on the wire basket, hoping to heat the cognac, but in reality succeeding only in singeing the wire and nearly burning down the dorm. My efforts, of course, had no perceptible impact on the warmth of the brandy.