Bee Double E Double R You In

It is certainly exciting times here at The Brew Chronicles. With all things, there is birth and demise. I always felt that the original nifty name I came up with for my musings was thoughtful, but yet, demur. I realize that sounds silly, but I always wanted to be referred to something demur. If you have been reading the last few chronicles, you will recall that I have been led to a path to the promise land. I am a soon to be Reality Television Star. Therefore I am taking the next logical step and renaming my postings. It now had a new look and "feel" to it. I feel it is more dignified and has certain ambiance to it. Yes, the address will still be the same and the blog still retains the same original concept. Yes, this still is a beer run (or sorts). But I now have that proverbial spring in my step. Now for all of the new readers to my "BLOG", first of all let me say welcome and secondly, a little history. I started "blogging" late last year (2008). I did so on a whim and with the inspiration of the smartest person I have ever met. I am proud he is actually part of the family and frankly his intelligence should probably come in real handy being wed to my oldest prodigy.

I do like and enjoy his blog. At first, I hoped to closely resemble it or at least follow its guideline. It did not take long for me to realize that it's creator, The Jim, is not of this world and was probably born on the former planet Uranus. (I mean that in a good way of course) Although I actually qualified to take a test to become a member of Mensa, I lack the reflectional fortitude required to be at par with his production. And.... I have seen the light (not a burning bush) and I realize that my contributions should and must follow their own natural course. Anyway.... I originally named my blog Bee Double E Double R You In. It was a play on the phrase beer run. I wanted to write about thingsbeer. I wanted to muse about my travels and my opinions about certain beers and ales. As I ventured into the underbelly of thingsbeer, I quickly surmised that I was indeed a rookie and I was light years behind a multitude of other scribes far more intelligent, creative, resourceful, and financially independent as I. I thought the name of my "blog" was a subliminal way of expressing the theme and topic of most of it's contents. I hoped (and still do) that somehow my musings would nevertheless be discovered by the entire world and a miracle would happen and I would find myself with a multitude of followers, and I would have ad space on my blog, and once a month I would receive this huge check that I would then dole out to my favorite charities, and then spend the rest on yours truly. I hoped that my wisdom would ultimately lead to world peace, perhaps even to end of global warming and world hunger. But.........I found myself veering off of my intended target on many occasions. Yet, I did it anyway. Frankly, I know in my heart of hearts that I shall veer in the future. If this disqualifies me from having my "blog" listed among other noted beer blogs, then sadly, it is the cross I must bear in order to have literary freedom.



The first Mrs. The Third and I purchased a 18' tall tree for $ 10.00 for Christmas of 1975. We lived in a studio apartment which allowed for us to place such a tall tree in it. We purchased it two or three days before the 25th. We put every light and ornament we could find on it and it still looked bare. My gift to her that year was a 10 speed bicycle. On New Year's Day 1976, Stanley Michael Wisnewski (later to become the Mrs. The Jim's Godfather) and I opened a half gallon bottle of Crown Royal at 11:00 AM. We proceed to drain the bottle (one shot at a time) during the course of the Cotton, Sugar, Rose and Orange Bowl (s) football games. After each shot we would exclaim "Smooooooooth". I stumbled from his apartment to mine that night and my bride informed me she was pregnant. The next day we sold the bike to Stan. From that moment, I became a parent. It has been my defining purpose of my life. I guess it will be till the day I die. Each of my children will recall me telling them that "I am here to teach you to be a good parent". I have given that task everything I had. If I have succeeded or not, it is yet to be determined, but I can leave this life in peace knowing that I put it all out there attempting it. The girls have moved on now. Yes, I am still Daddy (well the Prodigal Daughter calls me Pops sometimes) but I am not too sure they really listen to my advise or if they do, I do not think they put much merit in it. It would be pretty damn hypercritical of me to feel too bad about that. I did not listen to T.W. too much either. But looking back, I realize I should have. I keep hoping that I can convince them they should too. But you see....... I really did see a burning bush. I can write my blogs. and I can muse about things. and talk about my life, my past and history and things. I can tell stories of my youth. I can dream and have fun. I can create my own fantasy. What I'm most happy about is, that I can continue to be a parent. I can still dole out my wisdom and sage. And yes they can still ignore it too. But hopefully, one day a long time in the future, one of them can look at their own grand child and tell an interesting antidote about me, their dad and for a short moment a smile and tear will appear. That will be the proof of the pudding. Next month I will become a grand parent.

I just receive a text message from the Prodigal Daughter. She just found out that she has gotten the job in Dallas she has been trying to get. She will be able to return to Texas. I am bursting with excitement for her. I am sure she is excited and I know her older sister is too. I remember when she was a teenager and knew everything. We had a bad electrical storm and we had lost power. She had wanted to take a shower and the bathroom was completely dark. So she proceeded to prance into the living room and retrieve an old hurricane lamp that had once belonged to my grand parents. I told her not to take it. I said that it was over a hundred years old and that it could not be replaced. She got all huffy and said she knew what she was doing. Once again I attempted to argue with her, but I finally resolved that I was not going to win. You see when you are married and you have four other females living the house and no males, you pick your battles. So she lit the lantern and took it into the bathroom. A short while later I heard crashing of glass emitting from her bathroom, followed by her scream and her crying. I flew up and opened the door expecting to see her all cut up and such. She was crying. She had attempted to remove the fluted globe to blow it out. It was hot and it burned her hand and she let it drop and (of course) it shattered. She was not hurt. I exclaimed Are you ok? Are you ok? She hugged me and cried "You were right". All I cared about was that my child was un harmed. I was not upset about the lantern and up until this moment I did not really care that she admitted I was right. But it reminded me of the quote I used to make each of my girls recite to me.

"Repeat after me, Dad is always right"

Ok, enough of that.

As I was saying (for all of you newbies) It's a new day and welcome to The Brew Chronicles. Or should I say welcome to the Official Blog of the Television Reality Show The Brew Chronicles. So on with the show..........



It was the summer of 1974. I was laying in my bunk the second level of McDermott Lay Barge 22, Block 249 West Cameron Area, South Addition, Gulf of Mexico. We were over 100 miles from the nearest land and nearly twice as far from where our cars were parked. I was drinking a cold can of Budweiser as was my roommate Frank "Neck" Butler. One of my co workers Mac Knupp had smuggled 2 cases of Budweiser on board and he was selling them for either a dollar; a joint or a cantaloupe. He had brought a duffel bag with 48 -10 oz cans. Keep in mind that bringing or being in the possession of alcohol, on the barge was against company policy and would mean termination if caught. Neck's dad U.I. Butler was the superintendent of welders for the entire company. His first cousin E.J. Geautreaux was the barge captain of Lay Barge 22. W.P. Smitty Smith was the chief inspector(for our client company) on the barge. Smitty was one of my Dad's best friends and had known me since the day I was born. Neither Neck or I were too worried about the reciprocation of getting caught. Hell, we all brought a bottle or flask or two and a few baggies of herbs, but never beer. What Mac had done was truly remarkable. The problem was the disposal of the empty cans. Somehow Mac made it work.

There were three sorts of personnel on the barge. We had riggers, galley hands and welder's and helpers. The welders were the prima-donnas and if you were a helper to one of the welders, then you were on top of the food chain too. Neck was a Senior Welder and I was a Senior Helper. We worked in the very first welding stall (out of six). We were "bead hands". Everyone who worked in the bead stall got extra pay per hour too. We all strutted around with our reversible welder's caps and granny glasses. We were the best of the best.

Different crews of galley hands and riggers came and went on schedule. The welders and helpers stayed as long as they could or wanted. When a crew left to go home, we raided their rooms for porn mags and dirty books. Mostly we got copies of Playboy and Penthouse. Occasionally we would find a stray bottle of whiskey or some pot. Playboy had such cool articles. I remember reading a really good article about beer and brewers. This was 1974. It would be another 5 years before my favorite president, Jimmy Carter would ease laws regarding home brewing and 23 years Slick Willie would make laws more friendly for micro breweries. The article listed numerous brewers in the United States. Of course it mentioned AB and Miller. The article went on to say that most "brands" would cease to exist and that withing 10-15 years there would only be 3 or 4 brewers left in America. They reviewed several small or regional brewers while at the same time predicting that they would not last much longer. In summation they said the very best beer in America (according to Playboy magazine) was a beer made in a small town about half way between Houston and San Antonio Texas., The beer was called Shiner Premium. The article went on to say that one should really try drinking one of them while they still could. I cataloged the article in my mind. A few months later as I was driving home from Houston (where my parents had moved to) to Shreveport where in a few weeks I was going to marry the first Mrs. the Third, I happened upon a small liquor store with a large sign showing the Shiner logo. I remembered the article and I swerved the old Z 28 into it's gravel parking lot. Larry (Red Fred)(this the same Larry I was with in Estes Park, Co. on my 21st birthday) was riding with me and wanted to know why I was stopping. I told him to buy some beer. Shit Tom! You've got plenty in the cooler now! . But this is the best beer in the world, I told him. I bought two six packs and as I got back in the car I popped the top off of one of them as did Larry. I laughed as he rolled the window down and slowly poured the recently opened beer and splattering the side of my car as we sped on down the highway. And this was the best beer in America?

The prophetic article proved right. They were dead on. Well kinda sorta that is. Now they did not foresee Sierra Nevada; Samuel Adams; Dogfish Head; Widmer Brothers or New Belgium and Shiner is still in operation (happy birthday by the way). Recalling the article I realize that t what they said was most of the beers that we knew of the time would be gone. Think about it. Olympia is gone as is Hamm's Lone Star, Pearl. Rainer and Dixie. Rolling Rock is history as is Blatz, Ballentines, Old Mill and Stroh's. Ok, some of the names are still around but they are not really the same. Lone Star is still bottled as is Pearl, but at a different location and by a different brewer.(at least the National Beer of Texas is still brewed in Texas). The Little Brewery in Texas,is still around. Shiner stopped selling a beer called Premium a while back . The same beer is now called Shiner Blonde. They say they are 100 years old. Well sort of they are. But they are owned by a conglomerate. Budweiser claims it is the Great American Lager, but damn, they are owned by a Belgium Company. Coor's is now a Canadian company. The beer Leinenkugel has great marketing and it so cool that they actually send me a news letter. They are owned by Miller who is owned by the government of South Africa. Now let me state here I that have tried not to consume a lot of Miller product. Their beer is pretty good but I do not want my money going to support a government that supports, even vaguely, apartheid or human rights abuse. Widmer Brothers in Portland, Goose Island Brewery in Illinois and Margaritaville Brewing in Florida are all owned , in whole or in part by AB InBev. Have you noticed the abundance of Michelob beers available lately? I really like their Original Lager. It looks as if they are a microbrewery too. As I write this I asked my bride about the Blonde she drank a few days ago. I told her that it was actually a Shiner Premium. She said so? It still sucked.

So maybe that article was actually off course. The concept of Bud was to brew a good beer that most people liked and make it fresh and available everywhere. I have drank many Dixie's, Olympias and Shiner Premiums. Frankly I have never developed a taste for any of them. But trust me there are a lot of people who grew up drinking those beers and their idea of the taste of beer is based on that. Even if I am to be a big Television Star, who am I to judge? Yes with my new found fame, I am finding my humble side.


Welcome,




The Third