Skip to main content

Billion Dollar Donut Shop

Dear members and constituents
Did you hear about the billion dollar home Mukesh Ambani, the richest man in India, has built for his five person household? Yes, you read right, one BILLION dollars (insert Dr. Evil laugh). The 27 story humble abode is located in downtown Mumbai, a city where 56% of the population lives in slums. That's over 10 MILLION people (insert Dr. Evil laugh). Granted, he's probably creating 300 housekeeping jobs, but, how does somebody get so disconnected from reality? I mean, really! Details are being held close to the vest and everybody involved has signed non-disclosure agreements, so, of course, rumors of what the amenities might be are rampant. Some things are obvious: three helipads on the roof can't be hidden. Others tease the imagination. I too have succumbed to the temptation and made-up my own list of what I would Put in my next $1 billion home. There's the obvious ones like the room that controls the weather or a BMW shop (not my original ideas). Then there's the cool ones. Secret passageways, a floor nobody can get to (not even myself) and the room wallpapered with baby fawn pelts. You must have a five mile long tunnel so you can escape the angry mobs (or play super-hero) and the whole floor with trampoline floors. Of course what billion dollar home is complete without a donut shop. Yes, but should it be a LaMars, Krispy Kreme, Dunkin' Donuts or something else? Decisions, decisions, decisions. For better or worse, those decisions are not ours to make. If it were up to Erin Cathcart (donut girl) it would be Krispy Kreme (or at least that's what we have here today for your enjoyment). So come-on down leave the comfort of your palace or cubicle as the case may be and grab a donut. There's some things that money just can't buy (alright, you CAN buy donuts… but you know what I mean).
Happy Friday!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Happy New Year!

  Friends, Happy new year (and, technically, still Friday). As many of you know, my household has a peculiar way of ringing-in the new year. We build effigies representing the old year and burn them at midnight. This year, although we made the tough call of canceling the accompanying annual party, I felt it was important to go ahead with the burning. The theme, of course, was CoVid. My kids and I developed a dozen mutations of the virus and staged them in our backyard. Then, at a quarter ‘till midnight, we proceeded to read the old year’s last will and testament (or, as might be expected for a year like this, an un-will and un-testament). Shortly thereafter they were summarily burned. We then proceeded to stay up way past my bedtime (which in part helps explain the unusual tardiness of my weekly note). In any event a couple of donuts and a day of rest have got me back to my old self. By the way, I’ve posted a public video of the Facebook live stream event on Facebook. Key markers on

THE Oasis

Friends, The book  Ready Player One  sent me down memory lane this week. The journey was not triggered by the author’s excessive references to the 1980s, which border on obsessive. Rather, it was the name of the massive virtual reality simulation used by characters in this dystopian future to escape their grim surroundings: The OASIS. You see, that was also the name of my grandfather’s country estate, the setting where a disproportionate share of my treasured childhood memories were created.  La Quinta Oasis was a bucolic old whitewashed house with a massive stone staircase, three foot thick adobe walls and wooden window shutters that, when closed at night, would submerge the residence in pitch darkness. With no running water, electricity, phone or indoor plumbing, the only modern convenience was the battery transistor radio on which my uncles would listen to “Chucho el Roto”, a radio soap opera. The Spanish fighting roosters crowed long before sunrise, making it difficult to fall back

Accidental Culinary Innovations

Friends, Have you ever inadvertently fermented spaghetti sauce? Yeah, me neither… until yesterday, that is! Imagine my surprise when the half-full bottle, sitting in the fridge from time immemorial, made a sound akin to opening a beer bottle, instantly filling the glass container with a hazy smoke. As the carbonation dissipated, I grabbed a spoon to conduct the obligatory taste test. How was it? I’m glad you asked! Let’s just say chunky carbonated tomato beer is not my thing (although I must admit that if I had been expecting it, my reaction might have been a little more… composed). Now, if you forgo the fermentation and switch the tomato paste with spicy salsa… that might be the next million dollar idea! Sparkling sriracha anyone? How about Carbonated Cholula?   Bubbly Habanero? Fizzy JalapeƱo?? I could go on, but I have a feeling Gassy Guac might not fly off the shelves. Now, if only I could stumble on a way to improve donuts. Carbonated Jelly filling… yeah, maybe not. I think I’ll