Are you retro or just plain old.

Dig this—

I realize I haven’t been the most active citizen of the blogosphere lately, but it seems a little tricky to pull off having a life AND commenting on one at the same time.

One small development in the carny ride that is my life (‘do ya want to go FASTER?‘ says the toothless man at the helm) is the impending addition of an iphone to my collection of ‘things that need to be charged’ (or digitalia, if you prefer).

Now you might think from these postings that ol’ Lou might be a little techno-shy but far from it. If nothing else, the blender has taught us the value of life-improving technology.

The flip side is that our world is now littered with putty-colored computers, square black plastic coffee-makers and a virtually chrome-free modern auto industry. If this is the future, where is my jet pack and silver jumpsuit.

Back to the iPhone. It’s got a little chrome, a little whimsy and will quiet the blackberry ninjas who demand to know why I do not instantly answer an email wherever I am. It also has an appstore loaded with goodies from a compass to a cocktail guide (what, no corkscrew). It also has a rotary dial.

Is this really necessary?

I look better under incandescent light, I miss my turntable, and I sure can’t rest my cell phone on my shoulder (the original hand-free technology), but is it good just because its retro? They should have an app that makes operator connect your calls for you.

I guess it’s a fine line. Retro style is comforting and often better thought-through but often just a pain in the ass. For every T-bird there is Gremlin. And for every modern technological breakthrough there is another American triple-hopped ice-brewed ultra beer that tastes like frat party keg dregs.

Sorry cats, I might have cast adrift and can’t see land or my point any more. I’m just saying you shouldn’t have to sacrifice style for substance, or subtance for style.

And my iPhone will be able to make perfect julienne fries.

Have you got a piece of modern tech that makes the ladies weak in the knees? Give us a peek. Seen a USB-powered lint brush with multi-colored LEDs ? Share the wealth. Have you hand-coded the iPhone app that will materialize a Sidecar onto a Bluetooth-enabled cocktail napkin? By all means, let us know.

Lou is listening.

I am writing a blog! I’m sure there are folks out there joking that I’ll ruin the screen trying to scratch out mistakes with a fountain pen. But I say ‘old dogs, new tricks’ and bring on your modern-age hurly-burly.

So I sit me down in the lounger with a snazzy laptop and a stiff cocktail (classic Sidecar, thank you very much) and prepare to share the wisdom. So, what do you want to know?

The boys at the lounge gave me this space to chat you all up, talk about wicked-cool lamps, maybe convince you to buy a couple (just a click away, what are you waiting for…), and otherwise sap bandwidth away from more worthy causes. But then I get stuck on where to start…

I take another sip, and think—Hey! It’s always nice to start with a cocktail. So let me tell you about my Sidecar. A sublime combination of brandy, cointreau and lemon juice in a sugar-rimmed martini glass. Esquire’s take on it is here, and it’s as fair as any. They go cognac and I can accept that. I’ll even allow triple sec for Cointreau if the economic stimulus package hasn’t gotten to you yet. I will, however, demand real lemon juice. The lord looks down on that weird plastic lemon-shaped vessel rolling around the back of your fridge.

The liquor pundits (not to be confused with the liquored-up pundits) say the Sidecar came out of the big war and was tossed back at many a speakeasy, as well as becoming the signature at Poppa Hemingway’s hang in Paris, Harry’s New York Bar. Now that’s a drink that’s been around.

But that ain’t the point. The point is that it’s damn tasty. Don’t put it in your mouth, because its cool, or its retro-hip, or even if its on sale. Like what you like. And Lou likes to share a drink with the ghosts of gangsters and Parisian ex-pats. Style is not a trend it’s a personal statement. Whether its in your glass, rockin’ your ipod or lighting up your pad, its what sets you apart from the herd. I don’t know about you, but Lou thinks the herd is big enough.

So if you got a favorite brandy, let me know. Got a question about swank lighting, shout it. Want to know if those pants make you look fat, bring it on.

Lou is listening.