Friday, March 16, 2012


No, I'm not talking about St. Patrick's Day, although I may as well be, given that the holiday is upon us once again (how can that be?), as evidenced by a stroll past a packed Fastnet Pub a little earlier this evening.

Tomorrow, during and after the parade down Broadway and beyond, it'll be more packed still.

But, no, when I say "luck," I'm referring to the luck of the recent winner of the Powerball jackpot: a BIG jackpot. The fifth or sixth biggest in U.S. history — I'm not quite sure. The winnings were paid unto an entity called the Rainbow Sherbet Trust. Or is it the Rainbow Sherbert Trust? Again, I'm not quite sure. I mean, I watched the proceedings on TV a week or two ago (whenever that was) when a perfectly lovely Newporter named Louise White, age 81, came forward to accept one of those big, phony, representative checks. It was made out to the Rainbow Sherbert Trust, as that was the coveted item that had sent Louise out with a family member on that fortuitous evening to Stop & Shop on Bellevue Avenue, where she ended up with the combination of randomly picked numbers worth $300+ million. And that left me wondering.

About the spelling of sherbet, that is.

Then, a day or two after the big announcement revealing the identity of the winner that the local world (and press!) had been awaiting so anxiously and not without speculation, I found myself out walking down & around the Fifth Ward — that's the historically Irish neighborhood in town, and coincidentally where the St. Patrick's Day parade concludes — and found myself by sheer happenstance standing before the winning Whites' abode. It wasn't on purpose; really, it wasn't. But there was the "White" name on the gate and a lone unplated car in the driveway upon which a bumper sticker said, "Just Say Thanks."

I'm sorry; I was undone. So much so that I hurried home to determine, once and for all, if the rainbow-related substance was sherbet or sherbert, as somehow it seemed really important to get it right at that moment, and I'd recalled during my walk that Mr. Betty & I had an aged carton of the frozen confection in our freezer. No doubt it was leftover from last summer. Very nearly crystalline. But no matter.

Turns out, the answer in my freezer wasn't quite what I'd anticipated. But along the way — and again today — I was really feeling the sentiment ...

That's Chaz (right there ^) who happens to be the grand marshal of this year's St. Paddy's Day parade. Mr. Betty & I had the good fortune of meeting him and enjoying a nice chat at Fifth Element during a parade fundraiser that involved buying/trying Newport Storm Spring Ale. Speaking of luck. Seriously ....