At this time last week I was probably still asleep in a tent, maybe 150 yards from Lake Michigan. Another couple joined my fiancee and me, and one of the lazy mornings had the women taking a trip into town for extra groceries while us men did manly things involving lifting, chopping, and maybe a little bit of hoisting. When the women returned, their treasure were bountiful indeed. I peered into the plastic bag thrust into my face and saw this...
Yes, it's a bottle of Robin Yount Lemonade, "Robinade," to use the correct corporate branding, an "old school lemonade." If you want some more official information about it, here ya go. But if you want the skinny from what a history teacher would call a primary source, keep reading.
To start, Robinade is good. Real good. I'm not much of a lemonade fan, but this stuff has a refreshing taste that balances the sweet and sour in a symbiotic relationship that benefits your mouth. There's a very sight amount of pulp, which enhances drinkability. Pulp was what turned me off orange juice for the better part of the first half of my life. My theory is that Robin, a mustachioed man, introduced the Pulp Factor as a potential deal-breaker in the early stages of endorsement negotiations. Nothing is more embarrassing than a 'stache full of lemon pieces when you're being penciled into the lineup. Heck, Keunn might've bumped him down to seventh or eighth for a breach of uniform such as that.
If you're worried about calories, get a grip. My bottle says 100 calories, all of them the "good kind." Here's some additional nutrition facts:
Natural...sure, that's important, and it's nice to put some dollars back into the home economy, but it's the 100% Rockin' that separates this Ade from the lower beverages that have fewer chambers in their hearts and lack a true backbone. Basically, this lemonade guarantees you will have a great day. You will be in and out of the DMV in four minutes, you will find a gas pump that, erroneously, hasn't had its price changed since 1991, and you will just about break even playing your state's scratch-off lottery. It's also "six2andeven." Suck on that.
The collector in me refuses to drink all of the Robinades that were purchased. While I've already downed one of these this morning, I've still got another in the fridge. Perhaps I'll make a Rockin' Robin. The recipe? One bottle Robinade, 1 1/2 ounces vodka, and a splash of, ummm, I don't know, Squirt? Then turn on the Brewers game and watch the Crew continue their annual August slide down the standings. Ugh. Though I'd imagine that drinking this during a broadcast basically guarantees a win. We'll see. All I know is that you guys can look forward to a post about 15 years from now when I'll take this puppy out of storage. Sure, it'll have turned gray with green flecks by then, but blogs will be tactile and olfactory by then, so you'll get to experience it with me. Mark your calendars.
I hope you enjoy this little break from Trade Me Your Brewers. I'll try to make it a two-a-day by posting another trade tonight. Go Brewers!