Move over, Mickey

This just in (last week): if you’re looking for the happiest places on earth, head to Disneyland and then turn left—way left.

North Korea has done some sort of calculation and determined that China is the happiest country in the world, with its own good self in second place.

And if you don’t want to travel all that way across the Pacific, Cuba’s in the top five (along with Venezuela & Iran).

Of course, the land of famine and the Dear Leader doesn’t mention what the criteria are, so we’ll just have to fill in the blanks for ourselves. Might have something to do with leader-cult autocracy.

The USA, BTW, came in last.

Still the one

Well, well, well. Jack Daniels’ marketing geniuses are messing with the label.

I don’t quite know what to make of that. Black Jack was the first liquor I ever drank without mixers. It’s also the only distillery I’ve ever visited.

Of course, I haven’t drunk it in…well, since at least this century. So the corporation (now headquartered in Louisville, Ky.) won’t give a toss what I think one way or another.

I understand leaving off the population & the establishment date. But if having Len Motlow’s name on the label was fine for decades after his death, it seems somehow petty to delete it now.

Department of labor

As you toil away at your McJob (pretty much these days they’re all McJobs), in your cube farm, balancing ridiculously high management expectations against the pittance they’re willing to pay you, consider the Ten Cartoon Characters Who Would Never Have Held Down Their Day Jobs.

Makes you kind of wish Hanna & Barbera were in charge of your life, doesn’t it? At least then there'd be some animation involved in your work experience. 

Well, me—I’d hold out for Jay Ward.

Cringeworthy, no matter how you look at it

I’m not sure, but I think this may count as child abuse.

Alternatively, if you’re the parent of kid or kids in their teen years, it might just be payback.

Frankly, I’m thinking that Dale Price has more time on his hands than is perhaps good for him.

Coffee calling

It was a big weekend for the caffeinated crowd.

First, there was the World Barista Championship, held in Bogotá, Colombia.

It’s not entirely clear to me what the criteria are for determining the top barista—technique, choice of coffee, output? Or exactly what the process is for getting to the competition. But Alejandro Mendez of El Salvador went home with the nifty espresso machine, so, mazel tov, Alejandro.

Meanwhile, back in the US, the Coffee Fest Latte Art Championship was going on in San Diego. You can get more info by listening to the California Report interview & watching the videos that demonstrate some of the results.

Now, I don’t know from the blueberry and tamarind crap they were talking about at the Barista Championship, but I do rather like the latte art. Watching the baristas doing their thing is fascinating, too. Looks like magic to me.

The first time I came across latte art was at the coffee bar in Harrods Food Hall. I used to go there about once every six weeks or so on a Saturday. The coffee bar is elevated over one of the gigantic rooms; you have a view of a lot of humanity buying everything from meat pies to fine chocolates. It’s overpriced, as is everything at Harrods, but actually not bad value when you factor in the people watching and breath-catching elements.

And their lattes come complete with art demonstrated at the San Diego show; I used to get a heart, which always made me smile.

To appreciate latte art, you have to have it in a wide cup, sitting down. Slurping from a paper container on your way to the soccer match just doesn’t cut it.