Nate or Nathan ?

A few years ago I worked for a little over a week near St. Louis, Mo. I really enjoyed visiting the Gateway Arch, Grant's Farm and the Anheuser Busch Brewery. Most beer geeks will readily tell you that Budweiser beer taste like shit and all sort of other insults. The facts speak for themselves. Bud is the Number One selling beer in the frigging world. The Number Two selling beer is Bud Light. So lets agree that those guys are doing something right. The first stop on the tour is the pristine barns of the official horses of Budweiser. While visiting the St. Louis Brewery (no not the Schafly one), the guide does a great job on the tour. He told us how the Clydesdale was bred in Scotland and was primarily a farming animal and not intended to be hitched to teams to pull ornamented wagons laden with beer. He went on to tell us how the original horses where gifts to one of the early founders of the brewery. But there is a subliminal message that prevails throughout the tour. "Make a good beverage that satisfies "across the line". Give it a German sounding name that can be shortened to an American nickname. Deliver it in a timely fashion to prevent spoilage and be consistent in quality. The name Bud was stolen from someone else. (The original Budweiser Bier or Budweiser Bürgerbräu, had been founded in 1785 in Budweis, Bohemia, Holy Roman Empire and had started exports to the US in 1871. In the U.S., Anheuser-Busch started using the Budweiser brand in 1876 and registered it two years later. In Budweis, a new company (now named Budvar) was established in 1895 by mainly Czech brewers, which also started exporting beer with the adjective Budweiser ("Budějovický" in Czech). This led to the Budweiser trademark dispute. Negotiations between the three companies, the two from the original town and the American Anheuser-Busch, about using "Budweiser" reached an agreement in 1911 that allowed Anheuser-Busch to use the brand "Budweiser" only in North America)




The names of beers fascinates me. Think about it, would you really want to drink moose drool? I have previously written that it is my dream to open my own brewery. Yes, I too have some names for some of the future beers I will brewing.
My youngest nephew, the son of my wife's youngest sister and her husband. (also my current bosses) name is Nathan. When he was born I think he was already about 23 years old. According to his proud parents he is the smartest kid in his class. He is reading books ordinarily read by 5th or 6th graders. I think he is in the 2nd or 3rd grade presently. (My oldest was reading on the level of an 11th grader in the 2nd grade and her mother and I have the test results to prove it.) I tend to call him Nate. Mrs The Third (his aunt) tells me he is not "cool" enough to be called Nate. I have to admit, he ain't exactly "cool". When he goes out to eat with his parents and the waiter or waitress asks him what he want to drink he replies, a root beer in a kids cup. He sounds so grown up. Personally Nate should be allowed to be a kid while he still is a kid. If and when I do have a brewery, I will brew root beer too. The name of the root beer will be Kid's Cup Root Beer. I might put a picture of him on the label (or one of his dad, hell they look like twins) It may help make Nathan more cool and people will begin to call him Nate. Come to think of it I think I call him Nate just to piss him and his parents off, just as people do when they call my oldest, Jenny.

When prohibition caused the cessation of brewing in American, Anheuser-Busch, brewed a beverage name Bevo. Living in Texas you may think that the name came from a local mascot. The picture shown here is of Bevo I. This steer was eventually slaughtered and barbecued and served to the athletes of Texas A & M and the University of Texas.. The hide actually resides today in the safe keeping of Texas A & M University. (Gig em Ags!)

Names of beers have crept into our vocabulary and our culture. People spend millions of dollars on beers simply because of brand identification. I worked with a guy a year ago who had a large tattoo of the Lone Star Beer logo on his right arm. H e used to tell us that Lone Star was the very best beer ever made and that Budwieser was probably the worst. I guess he would be shocked to know that the Lone Star Brewery was originaly started by and owned by none other than Augustus Busch!
There was a survey done a few years ago and the question was What company in America has the largest customer loyalty. Now you may think it is Budwieser or Miller or maybe even Coors . But you are wrong. think about it, if you are willing to permanently mark your body with an image, it must mean something to you, or at least make you look like a bad ass.

Pliny the Elder was a Roman naturalist, scholar, historian, traveler, officer, and writer. Although not considered his most important work, Pliny and his contemporaries created the botanical name for hops, "Lupus salictarius", meaning wolf among scrubs." Hops at that time grew wild among willows, much like a wolf in the forest. Later the current botanical name, Humulus lupulus, was adopted. Pliny died in 79 AD while observing the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. He was immortalized by his nephew, Pliny the Younger, who continued his uncle's legacy by documenting much of what he observed during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

So exactly where are you going with this blog number three? Well I am not sure. It is just that names of beers do indeed fascinate me. I recalled drinking a beer called Pliny the Elder once and I thought what a strange name it was. So I suppose ole Pliny should get credit for starting my musings here. If you have kept up with my posts and read one I wrote back in December 2008 (I am Waiting for My Real Life to Begin), you will recall that as I grew up, the top three beers in my circle were Bud, Schlitz and Miller. On New Year's Eve I purchased a twelve pack of Schlitz (in cans) for a total of $ 6.29. I tried to get one (just one) of my co workers to drink one. I offered free beer to over 25 persons and not one of them took me up on the offer. Actually the beer was not all that bad. Now Schlitz has really fallen since 1969 but who knows one day it may be on top again. The comment I got mostly was, "Schiltz gives me the shits". So in summary be careful what you name a beer it could backfire.



With just a kiss of the hops



The Third

Austin Texas pub Crawl, The First Act.

June 1964. My parents put me on a train in downtown Shreveport, Louisiana and I along with hundreds of other teen aged boys spent a few days in route to Valley Forge, Pa. and the National Jamboree. I may write more about this trip in future blurbs but the point of reference here is that prior to attending the Jamboree, we spent a few days in New York, New York. As a twelve year boy, I had my first 90 cent hamburger and first ginger ale. I discovered, much to my amazement, that the Statue of Liberty was actually green and not grey as I imagined it. We went to the top of the Empire State Building, United Nations, 1964 World's Fair and a double header with the Red Sox at Yankee Stadium. I heard the word "eclectic" for the first time. It was a word that I would have described "The Big Apple".

In my years of travel I have visited many other places, but few cities would be what I would refer to as eclectic. Portland, Oregon, ("the Micro Brew Capitol of the World") http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portland,_Oregon But then again a city a mere 70 miles from where I live, is as well. Austin is sometimes referred to as "The Live Music Capitol of the World"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_of_Austin I guess if you are a "Capitol" it qualifies you to be "eclectic" (at least on my list). I find no other city that I have visited to compare with Portland. with the possible exception of Austin. With this in mind, my bride and I drove to Austin a week ago and ventured on a pub crawl.

Arnold (Arnoul) of Soissons or Arnold or Arnulf of Oudenburg (1040 — 1087) is a saint of the Roman Catholic Church . He is the patron saint of hop-pickers and Belgian brewers.

In Houston, Texas there is a brewery named St. Arnold (the oldest micro brewery in Texas, actualy) http://www.saintarnold.com/tours/ Every Saturday at 1:00 PM you can visit the brewery and lay down a half of a sawbuck for a 6 oz. gold trimmed St. Arnold taster glass and five wooden nickels. Once inside some guy in a kilt will give you 20-25 spiel on the way to brew beer and the life and times of dear old St. Arnold. Well it actaully seems that there were two of them.

Saint Arnulf of Metz is the one the Brewery takes their name from. The following story is not completely true but it is the one they (the brewery) tends to support.

Saint Arnold was born to a prominent Austrian family in the year 580. Even back in those days the Austrians were famous for their love of beer, and admired for their brewing prowess. Beer was a proud Austrian tradition that was not wasted on young Arnold.

As a young man, Arnold entered the priesthood and began moving his way up that earliest of all career ladders. At the age of 32, he was given the title Bishop, and in 612 was named "Arnold, Bishop of Metz." (Metz is in France.)

He is said to have spent his life warning peasants about the health hazards of drinking water. Water was not necessarily safe to drink during the dark ages, especially around towns and villages. Nasty stuff. Arnold always had the well-being of his followers close at heart.

Beer, on the other hand, was quite safe. Arnold frequently pointed this out to his congregation. He is credited with having once said, "From man's sweat and God's love, beer came into the world." It goes without saying that the people loved and revered Arnold.

In 627, Saint Arnold retired to a monastery near Remiremont, France, where he died and was buried in 640.

In 641, the citizens of Metz requested that Saint Arnold's body be exhumed and carried from the monastery to the town of Metz for reburial in their local church - The church where Arnold had so frequently preached the virtues of beer. Their request was granted.

It was a long and thirsty journey, especially since they were carrying a dead bishop. As the ceremonial procession passed through the town of Champignuelles, the tired processionals stopped for a rest and went into a tavern for a drink of their favorite beverage - Beer. Much to their dismay, they were informed that there was only one mug of beer left, and that they would have to share it. That mug never ran dry and the thirsty crowd was satisfied.

Every Saint needs a miracle. That's how the Church decides you are a Saint. The story of the miracle mug of beer spread and eventually Arnold was canonized by the Catholic Church for it.

Saint Arnold is recognized by the Catholic Church as the Patron Saint of Brewers.

It is true that St. Arnold of Metz. is also a canonized saint of the Roman Catholic Church.
Most painting and images of him show him with a rake which could be considered a "brewer's rake". There is really not much actual factual information to connect St. Arnold of Metz to beer other than the name and the images of the rake so for me I feel it is pretty much a stretch The owners of St. Arnold Brewery are probably Presbyterians anyway. But I can tell you they brew some mighty fine beer. Anyway back to the point. It seems you can bring your own "vessel" to this "tour" and it will be filled up once for each of the wooden nickels you have. You can bring food and set on the park benches and socialize and listen to the music they have provided. It is 'such a deal" and I recommend this to all of you.

Now back to my story.....

So we got up and I went and washed the car and filled it with gas. We left around 10:30 AM and our first stop on our tour was to be The Flying Saucier. While working on one of my earlier blogs I read that my very favorite beer could be found on tap there. They have about a hundred taps but none had # 9. I settled on a Allagash White. If you recall from one of my earlier blogs, (I'm Waiting on My Real Life to Begin) I mentioned it. the beer was good and it brought back some memories. I would like to go back to the Saucier.. It was nice and I really like the idea of the 200 beer club. We had chicken tenders and they were good. Then again Micky D's makes some pretty good tenders too and they are a lot cheaper. We continued our pub crawl to Barton Springs Drive among the rows and rows of trending Austin eateries and pubs. It seems that every one in Austin was on a pub crawl as well. The weather could not have been any better. It was perfect. we parked in front of the Bush Twin's favorite watering hole, Chueys, and we strolled a few blocks to Uncle Billy's Brew and Que. NOTE: at this point in writing my blog, my nine year old computer gave up the ghost. I mean it just stopped. I am writing this on my brother in law's lap top. so .... this blog will wait till I get back from El Paso and the bride and I can acquire another blogging machine.

Oh yeah, Happy Birthday to you The Jim.



the third see below there is more...

It is Friday February, 20, 2009 and I am now the proud owner of a new computer. Damn Sony makes everything. Rather than continue on this episode I am going to compose a new blog in next day or so and will continue with the story of the Austin Pub Crawl.
I spoke to my oldest daughter last evening and she tells me that my rants tend to ramble on. Well I thought about it awhile and here is my response.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efy8NojrOVY


again....see ya ! The Third

"I Tell You What........."

December 24, 1995. We had eaten the annual 15 been soup and I was getting ready to head on up to St. Anne's later to sing in the choir for Midnight Mass. The sky was grey and the leaves were brown. Sounds sort of like a song. My oldest daughter (the future Nurse the Jim)was driving in from college and we were all waiting anxiously for her arrival. My dad had dropped by earlier and bestowed upon me some Monticristo # 4 s (Habona). (Yes I love a good smoke) (I quit smoking cigarettes for my youngest daughters 5th birthday present.) My mother in law was living with us and she was cooking all sorts of pies and pastries. We had a Honey Baked Ham in the fridge and a bird to cook the next day. I had gotten a handsome Christmas bonus from my employer and the girls were all well behaved. My favorite customer gave me a hundred dollar Mont Blanc pen. I still have it and just held it as I type this musing. Life was Good. Then hurricane J.R. blew in. "Hey dad, you ever heard of Samuel Adams Triple Bock?". I told her "no I never had". "Well I have called ahead and found out that we can find some at Spec's in The Woodlands." Damn, I replied, it is Christmas Eve and I have to be leaving in a few hours for Midnight Mass. But Dad, this is very best beer in the world. Now that got my attention.
So off we went on a beer run. Yes Spec's had some. Nine bottles actually. At $ 9.00 per bottle. From all of the hype I felt it may be a collectors item and be worth more money in a few years. We plopped down $ 81.00 plus tax and we were on our way. Jennifer only kept one of the nine and the others went to her friends back in Lafayette. As far as I know she still has it. As I wrote this I paused and looked on e bay to see what the beer was gong for now. There are plenty to be purchased for around $ 7.00 per bottle ( plus $ 6.50 in shipping). Twelve years and no real appreciation in value. the beer (barley wine) has over 17% ABV. and at the time was the strongest alcohol content of any beer made. Sam Adams has actually made other beers that exceeded the aforementioned ABV. I have spoken to a few people who have actually tasted a Triple Bock. It taste's like shit is the consensus.

The bottle is small and is a cobalt blue in color with a waxed/plastic cork. Samuel Adams is scripted in gold leaf on the bottle. It is pretty I must admit. Each bottle had a note attached describing the process of making the beer.

So the Third, why do you write this? Because this was the first "craft beer" I ever purchased.

I shall be on the road for the next week and I shall take a break from my babble. But as I play around with this blog page I find all sorts of new ways to express myself. If you look you will see I have now added a "link" place and for each blog I compose I shall add a new link (or two or three).


Oh yea one last thing. In one of my earlier scribblings, I announced that my favorite pub had added one of my favorite beers on their taps. Descheute's Black Butte Porter. I was there this evening and I ordered one. The owner, , of the pub (Ryan) came over and told me he had to change the tap then he informed me that the new keg would be the last one he had because the distributors were not making it available to him anymore. Damn!


Toodles



The Third

The Pub Crawl . . . . The Beginning

Pub Crawl: [ puayb kra all]. The visiting of one or more "establishments" with the express purpose of absorbing the atmosphere and ambiance of each to create a combined effect.


The intersection of Louisiana Highway 1 (Youree Drive) and State Route 3032 (East Kings Highway) holds a special place in my heart. In such a small area you could find many of favorite watering holes and gathering places of my youth. "The Cell" (Carousel Lounge); The Christian Union Building (The Cub); The Nail (Rusty Nail); The Peanut Gallery; and Sub and Ale (Bayer's) are names from the past with only the Cub still remaining. Although it is still a pub, they now offer a "fine dining experience" as well. A few years ago, a few days before my "oldest's " vows to "The Jim", we all went to the Cub. I walked inside after nearly thirty five years. It was as if I never left. But something happened to me for the only the second time at any bar/lounge or pub. I was asked to leave. My youngest was with us as well and she was only seventeen. In Louisiana, you have to be at least 21 years of age to be on the premises of any establishment that primarily serves alcohol. Jeez!, they have come a long way since the days of my youth. I was perfectly willing to let her wait in the car, but my bride was not happy with that idea. So we were asked to leave. The Cell has gone through several transformations. A few years back (20 or so) I once went inside, for old times sake. It was known as the Zodiac then and now it is known as Fat Cats. I looked on the jukebox and shockingly, I could not find that Johnny Nash's song that seemed to be playing every time I entered the Cell.You really can never go home again. The Carousel Lounge was owned by Boyd Gammel. He was not a very friendly man. The rumor was that he was "connected". Yes it is true that the "Buckle of the Baptist Bible Belt" was tarnished by the "Mob". He owned another bar called the Cotton Bowl Lounge located in another part of town. My next door neighbor had a mom and pop convenience store adjacent to the Cotton Bowl Lounge and Liquor Store. (named the Cotton Bowl Market). I worked for Mr. B. one summer. During that time I got to know Mr. Gammel. He used to hang out at the Cotton Bowl. In addition to stocking shelves, sweeping, and mopping, my job was to see that the "hot links" were put on each morning and to watch for shop lifters. Each day at noon I would hide inside the cooler and look through the rows of beer and malt liquor out into the store looking for thieves. I caught a lot. I used to stack the beer cases into what looked like a fort. I would slip in it and spy at the customer/thieves. I once caught a beer delivery guy stealing large slabs of bacon from inside the cooler. He always wore a large jacket and he sweated a lot. He would bring the Pearl in and slip the bacon inside of his jacket. We wondered why he sweated so much inside of the cooler and I suppose we found out why. Back then it never was a problem getting alcohol when you were actually too young to legally purchase it. I was buying bottles of whiskey from Mr. Gammel at the the Cotton Bowl Lounge when I was a sixteen year old. Back then, I was a good old Southern Baptist kid. I sang in the youth choir every Sunday night. Gary, Phillip or Phil as I called him (the choir director's son), C.L. (his first name is Caroled), Hook (later to be my first college roommate), Chuck and Fish (he got the nickname because he drank like a fish) would each take snorts from my bottles prior to choir practice each Sunday afternoon. We felt that it made us sing better. Damn, I am getting off the subject.

Both the Carousel and the Cotton Bowl had rotating bars. The bar area was in the middle and surround by chairs. The bar it self, moved in a very slow clockwise motion. So in the coarse of an hour or so you could circle the entire place. Mr. Gammel built his his rotating bars to copy the famous carousel bar in the Monteleon Carousel Piano Bar & Lounge which is immortalized in the writings of Ernest Hemingway among others. The Cell was a college bar. If you did not go to college or at least look as if you did, then I suppose it was not the place for you. If you attended the local Loly Poly U (Louisiana Tech) or Northwestern (Louisiana) State you were in good company. If you attended LSU then you received a "few extra feathers in your caps". The Cotton Bowl Lounge was a redneck bar. Back then if your hair even touched your ears, you were considered a dope smoking hippie. Hell most of us were. The Cub was a bar that never truly catered to particular crowd. I once walked in only to find my father and a couple of his friends hoisting a few. It was actually pretty weird. (In the next few years, I "crossed paths with Dear Old Dad a few more times. I gradually got used to it. Besides he always paid) The Nail and the Peanut Gallery were there too. Also close by was Murrel's # 2 (cafe) as was (is) Strawn's Eat Shop. (famous for their strawberry pies).The Nail was located in a building that used to sell four track tapes and tape decks. Yes, I said four track. It later became known as The Killer Poodle. The Peanut Gallery attempted to cater to the bohemian crowd. They had live music (I actually played there a few times). Also they had several foos ball tables and they prided themselves as being a mecca for foos ball players. Bill Sullivan and I were partners. (No, we are not related)We were damn good. Well....lets say he was damn good. I just stood there. Ever so often I would have a flash of brilliance and make a great block or score. The aforementioned bars (except the Cotton Bowl) were all within walking distance. I admit, we usually drove to the Nail since it was across the King's Highway. Bayer's Sub and Ale was a across Highway 1 and access to it required driving for sure. Bayer's was a local hamburger chain. Old man Bayer opened his "Sub and Ale" as a restaurant with a bar attached. His restaurant sold po-boys and submarines and hamburgers. He may have sold more but I do not recall. At some point I remember being told that the pub in the back of the Sub and Ale was the place to be. It was. You could purchase a pewter stein and have your name engraved on it. The steins were hung over the bar and they stopped selling them after they had no room for them. So if you had one it meant you were cool.

My friend Gary used to work with his dad in his machine shop. (actually not far from the Cotton Bowl) Gary worked with an old black man whose name was Stomy. Gary would make fun of me and call me Stomy. ( Stow Me) I was not too fond of it. So you guessed it, the nickname stuck. Hell, my own mother called me Stomy. Nearly all of my friends knew me as it. But then the Classics IV came out with a song called Stormy. It was a follow up hit to Spooky (little girl like My nickname went from Stomy to Stormy and that was the name I had on my stein. I made me seem as a bad ass. I had this tee shirt,(Baseball warm up sleeves actually) that had an Irish flag on the back of it along with my nickname. On the front was printed "Get Drunk and Fight". Everyone began to think I had this horrible temper. I was never much of a fighter but the image followed me. So I really loved the Sub and Ale. Sadly things change. It seems that the bar could not satisfy Mr. Bayer's projections and he seemed to be loosing money on his venture. At one time he worked hard to get all of our crowd to hang out there and then later he went out of his way to run us off. There were a few legendary fights in the parking lot. I never was involved in any of them and for that matter I never witnessed one. But I sure heard about them. And finally, we were no longer welcome. He threw all the steins away. My cool nickname sorta of went away about the same time too. I write all of this because almost every Friday and Saturday night with or without dates, we would make our rounds at the aforementioned bars. Thus the pub crawl concept was begun and embedded into me. So for years when we went out we ended up at several place rather than just one. Of course there were other places in town as well, Mom's on Centenary (a titty bar) was a favorite place. Well it was until someone (connected with the Mob) threw a bomb in it and blew it up. (They sponsored a bowling team I was on.); The Raven, (Formerly Caroline's) on Old Mansfield Road; Mr Crow's;(Still open) on W. 70th; Glen and Glenda's ("I love you Cedar Grove" written on front door) (I once played in a band there. There were more people in our band than actually showed up at the bar);The Stage Door, (North of town , owned by the same people(my first wife's cousins) who owned Glen and Glenda's);The Wagon Wheel (where my first wife's uncle Dean was shot); King's Lounge, (great pop corn);The Spot Club, (pool hall); Tooters,(where I made my football bets with a real bookie); the Blue Note; the Gay 90's (another titty bar)(which was not a gay bar but was next door to one (The Elbow room); The Coachman; Club Westwood; Lake Cliff Lounge (a real shit hole where I once saw Willie Nelson play); the Apollo Lounge;The Afro-American Scene (which was opened before integration was truly accepted in Shreveport. We went there to buy pot.); Pleasants'; and The Orbit Lounge (Where I used to play with a couple of different bands. One night while on break, an airman from nearby Barksdale Air Force Base hit me over the head with a full beer mug. It seems he thought I was stealing his girlfriend from him. I was trying to at least.) were just a few of the places I would go on my pub crawls. There were many more and I am sure but the years has faded them from my memory.

I never have been the type to settle into one place or another. I have always felt the ambiance of many out weighs just one. The concept of pub crawls was with me then and frankly is still . I shall be writing about some of my pub crawls in future musings so stay tuned...



Pic of the old Gay 90's -->

The owner, Clyde Hyde was loosing money
so he drove to Memphis, Tn. and attempted to
rob a bank. He was killed in the attempt.

The bar was completely covered in Silver Dollars.



















Note: As you can easily derive, I grew up in Shreveport, Louisiana (1960-1974). My first wife and I were married there. She lives near there now as well. I currently have two living aunts ( my dad's sister and my mother's sister)that live in the area. I have not visited either of them in a long time. I feel bad about that. I also have two cousins who live near there as well. My oldest and her husband (The Jim) have moved to the Lone Star State. I rarely have a reason to visit my old town. I merely pass through. Some of my writings have centered on the Shreveport area. The pictures I insert are actually real pics of the places I speak of in this rambling. It is a part of my past and shall be subject to recall from time to time. It is a great place to be from. My old hometown is the pedestal upon which my story rests.


Le Bon Temp Rule



The Third

Bring Some Home to the Wives.

Well I must admit that my last several posting have ventured more towards a retrospective than prospective. Or the other way around. So I return to Beer.

As I have stated before, my current employment requires that I travel pretty much all over the USA. I have traveled to or through ever state in the lower 48 except South Dakota, Rhode Island, and Delaware. I have attempted to try a beer from every state in the Union. ( I have come close) Some I like, and some I do not. I have also attempted to visit as many "micro brewpubs as I could. I have been to Los Lunas, New Mexico and drank a Farmers Tan Red Ale and to Marquette, Michigan to enjoy a Vierling Blueberry Honey Wheat Beer. Although there are more and more "craft brews" available at the "local market" there are even more available at brewpubs. Some actually bottle their beer (such as the aforementioned Farmers Tan. (GET PLOWED!) and some others do not. If you want a Vierling Blueberry then you will have to go to the southern banks of Lake Superior and drink one there or fill your growler. They actually put real Michigan Blueberry s in the pint glass after the pour. There are literally hundreds and hundred of brew pubs out there. And there are chains too. BJ's Brew house is one. They actually brew good beer. Well actually they rarely brew beer. The restaurants are constructed to appear as a micro brewery. The beer is actually brewed elsewhere. They actually farm out their brews and have local or area micro breweries use their recipes and brew for them. Of all of the BJ's in Texas, St. Arnold's in Houston brews their beer. The food is great although slightly higher than your local Chili's or Applebee's. Then you have Rock Bottom, The Yard House, John Harvard's, Capitol City Brewery, Flying Saucer, Two Rows and Hops. All are restaurants that serve good food and sell tee shirts, bottle openers, pint glasses and caps as well. While working in Connecticut, I had the chance to visit a Hop's. The food was truly outstanding and I recommend them highly....but......stay away from what they call beer. Jeez, it was bad! While working near Allentown, Pa. I had the chance to eat and drink at Bethlehem Brew Works.The food was outstanding and the beer was amazing. If you are near there you got to check it out and also the C.F. Martin Factory located in nearby Nazareth. Oh yea, I play guitar (and mandolin). I have been playing for nearly 45 years. I have gotten G, C ,and D down real good. I have been to the plant twice. The last time I was there I was standing in the lobby and was about to go into the museum. "Excuse me are your Doug?" a fellow asked me. I turned around to see that the person asking me the question was none other than Chris Martin (C.F. Martin IV). He is the current guru at Martin. Standing next to him was someone I recognized. I nodded at him and said hello, he replied the same is a slight "English" accent. I replied to Chris,"no...sorry". They turned and walked away. It hit me later...wow that was Eric Clapton!


With the rapid growth of brew pubs and "thingsBEER", I am finding more and more Beer snobbery. You have your beer fanatics and your beer purists. You find those that live and breath because their particular liking is the one all should appreciate. Some sway towards the Belgium Trappist monk type beers. Others the Irish Stout. Some prefer hopped up hoppified beers, while other prefer fruity whit beers. Some prefer German or Deucth beer while others like ales, pale ales, (English Pale or American Pale), Bock, Double Bocks, Triple Bocks, Porters, Dunkelwiess' Ambers, Reds, Lambics, Mexicans, and so on and so on.....

John Denver once sang a song titled Berkeley Woman. The gist of the tune was about this guy who saw this "hippie girl" in a rocking chair and he fantasized about what it would be like to be with her. Only problem is his wife was standing next to him...


I saw a Berkley woman sitting' in her rocking' chair. A dulcimer in her lap A
feather in her hair. Her breasts swayed freely with the rhythm of the rocking'
chair. She was a-sitting' and a-singing' and a-swaying' her cheeks were red I
declare.Twas hard to believe what my eyes showed me then. The color in her
cheeks was just her natural skin she wore no makeup to make her look that
way. She was a natural mama with the red cheeks. What more can I say.
Well I finally realized there was hunger in my stare .In my mind I was
swaying' with the woman in the rocking' chair. But the lady I was living'
with was standing' right by my side. She saw my stare and she saw my
hunger and Lord it made her cry. So with anger on her face yes and the hurt
in her eyes, she scratched me and she clawed me, she screamed and she
cried. "Oh you don't give me near all the loving' that you should, yet you're
ready to go and lay with her. You're just no damn good". Well I guess she's
probably right. Oh I guess I'm probably wrong. I guess she's not too far
away. She hasn't been gone very long. And I guess we could get together
and try it one more time, but I know that wanderlust would come again.
She'd only wind up a-crying' Well now you've heard my story plain as the
light of day. It's hard to feel guilty for loving' the ladies That's all I gotta say
'Cept a woman is the sweetest fruit That God ever put on the vine I'd no more love just one kinda woman Than drink only one kinda wine

As Rudyard Kipling is quoted " A woman is just a woman but a good cigar is a smoke." Well, that is the way I feel about beer. Hell they are all good. Well lets say most of them are good. Nowadays brewers are beginning to get pretty fancy and creative with their brewing arts. You can find beer made from pumpkins and other forms of squash. Beets, all sorts of fruit including raisins, pears, figs and even coffee and chocolate are now flavoring or are added to beer and ales. They add all sorts of spices too. Remember the one I mentioned from Portland Maine? I once drank a chile beer in Arizona. A real chile was inside the bottle. Not bad if you are only going to drink one of them.

I have this friend named Anne. She is from the Florida Parishes. She considers herself a true Cajun cook. She claims, and both of her sons agree, that she makes a very good Neutra chili. I do like chili and I am from Louisiana It is true , a coon ass will eat anything that don't eat him first. But I draw the line when it come to eating Louisiana Neutra Rat. the Maninna boys can have all of their momma's Neutra chili they want. I shall not get in their way. Since I tend to ramble, I do have to admit that when I was a small "boy child" my mother's father (my Pap Paw Boone) used to go squirrel hunting and and kill young squirrels and take their brains and mix with eggs. he would then scramble them and feed to me. I am told I loved it. What I am trying to say is like I have quoted many times before, "...everyone is entitled to his own stupid opinions"

I was in the Detroit, Michigan airport once. Now you really have to go there too. They have this passage way between two terminals and you can ride on the moving floor. On both sides of the tunnel is a really neat light and sound show. The music is some "space age music" lifted from a Disney amusement ride or the sound track of Logan's Run. I bet it would be amazing if one was truly "loaded". Anyway, I sat a bar waiting on my next flight and drank a $ 7.00 beer. (At least it was 20 ounces.) It was a Samuel Adams Lager. Later while enjoying the light show or riding on the airplane to my next destination, I belched and I could taste the aroma from the beer I had recently consumed. That taste was the taste of hops. After nearly 40 years of drinking beer I finally realized what the true taste of beer was supposed to taste as. Now I am not a complete idiot, I realize that beer actually only has a few ingredients. I realized hops was one of them but I truly never appreciated the essence of hops.

Ales, Pilsners, Lagers, Stouts. I.P.A's are term for beer that frankly most have no idea or do not want to know anything about. I can prove it. Find 10 people at random and ask them if Budweiser is a lager, pilsner or ale. You will be very surprised with the results of your survey. Funny thing is that Bud's advertising promotes Bud as the great American Lager.

A few months ago I had the opportunity to travel to the Portland Or. area ( for a job). My loving wife knew how much I loved the area and she suggested that I arrive a few days earlier and visit a few micro brews. I had been there about two year earlier and took advantage of the Brew Bus. http://www.brewbus.com/ I strongly recommend it. I plotted out about 18 brew pubs for my two day "pub crawl". Sunday, the day of my arrival I would spend in the Pearl District on the West bank of the Willamette and Monday would find me on the East side of the river. I was driving so I planned the trip so that I could park my car and walk to most pubs and I was determined to make sure that I ate plenty and watched myself and not get behind the wheel if I was even close to being intoxicated. My ultimate goal was to finally get inside of the Hair of the Dog Brewery and actually drink some of the brewery's beers and ales. As I may have stated before, I tend to collect tee shirts, caps, bottle openers and pint glasses. I really wanted Hair of the Dog tee. Long story short.....I now own a black "Fred" shirt. It is way too cool. I did have some time to visit with Alan and drink some samples of his beer. The cool thing was that it was just him and me there. I helped him put beer bottles inside of cases. I still have three of the beers I purchased in a six pack "mixer" (Ruth, Adam and of course Fred).
My 2008 beer crawl in the Portland area was one I shall long remember. Thanks Tony. I was not able to visit all of the pubs on my pub crawl list but I feel satisfied I at least made a dent in it. I did get a chance to visit the Rogue Public House, Deschute's new pub in the Pearl, Bridgeport, a new pub called HUB or Hopworks Urban Brewery, The Green Dragon, The HorseBrass Saloon, The Lucky Labrador, Roots, a McMemamins pub, and of course Hair of the Dog. If you ever get a chance, you have got to check out the men's room at the Bridgeport Brewhouse. the urinals are huge. I took a pic of one and sent it to my wife. She deleted it. I guess that is a guy thing.

So I shall finally state that as of today, my favorite beers. are shown below. Things change you know. Also at any given time any one of the top ten could be my number one .

Number Ten

Big Sky Brewery (Montana) - Moose Drool Brown Ale

I have purchased this in the Oklahoma City, Oklahoma area

Number Nine

Bell's Brewery (Michigan) - Two Hearted Ale

I found this in Michigan and Illinois

Number Eight

Hair of the Dog Brewery (Oregon) - Blue Dot Imperial IPA

This is only available in the Portland area

Number Seven

Steven's Point Brewery (Wisconsin) - Special Lager

Only available in Wisconsin and the U.P.

Number Six

New Glarus Brewery (Wisconsin) - Spotted Cow

Only available in Wisconsin

Number Five

Harpoon (Massachusetts) - I.P.A.

I purchased a sixer last week near Gainesville Florida

Number Four

Firestone Walker (California) - Double Barrel Ale

I have only found this in California

Number Three

North Coast Brewery (California) -Red Seal Ale

I have found this in Austin, Texas

Number Two

Deschutes Brewing Company (Oregon) - Black Butte Porter


This has recently gone on tap at my favorite pub in my home town



and

and

and

Number One

Magic Hat Brewing (Vermont) - # 9

the closest I have found it to Texas was in Cleveland Ohio and or the Washington D.C. area


Honorable Mention (any one of these could be in the top ten)

Magic Hat Brewery (Vermont) - Circus Boy
Schafly Brewery (Missouri) - Irish Style Extra Stout
New Glarus Brewery (Wisconsin) - Fat Squirrel
Stone Brewing Company (California) - Pale Ale
Karl Strauss Brewing Company (California) - Red Trolly Ale
New Belgium Brewing Company (Colorado) - 2 Below
Flying Fish Brewing Company (New Jersey) -Extra Pale Ale
Deschutes Brewery (Oregon) - Mirror Pond Ale
Odell's Brewery (Colorado) - 10 Shillings
Smuttynose Brewing Company (New Hampshire) - Old Brown Dog Ale
Boulevard Brewing Company (Missouri) - Bully Porter
Sierra Nevada (California) - Summerfest Lager
Oskar Blues Brewing Co. (Colorado) - Dale's Pale Ale
Goose Island Brewery (Illinois) - 312
Duck Rabbit Craft Brewery (North Carolina) - Amber Ale
Summit Brewing Company (Minnesota) - I.P.A.



I suppose a special category should go to beers that have really "cool" names. Shmaltz Brewing Company (New York) - Messiah Bold come to mind or Polygamy Porter from Watasch Brewery (Utah) is another. Hell why just have one when you can bring some home to the wives.


As you can see they come from all over the United States. Most of the above beer are not available where I live. But depending on which direction I travel, I am probably going to find some of them . I have found the the Southeast part of the United States has the poorest overall selection. Travel into Colorado provides the best selection I have found. There you can find a huge assortment of both Colorado, California, Washington and Oregon beers

Four regions (states) tend to be the best beer producing areas

Oregon/California/Washington

Colorado/New Mexico

Wisconsin/Michigan/Illinois

Vermont/Massachusetts/New Hampshire


My next posting will address beer laws and other odd and strange things that I have encountered in my travels. From there I am not sure what will be penned so stay tuned.....

Sláinte



The Third

"Every Man a King" & Dog and Pony Show

I am departing from my usual rambling and setting forth some ground rules of which I will probably break in future musings. Thus far, I has refrained from mentioning last names of persons I mention here. There is no particular reason. I just don't. Hell, it is my rant , right?. Certain persons shall in the future have their last name affixed here in order to add a little realism or credibility. I suppose I want to avoid a slander or libel suit but I must confess that thus far I have avoided hyperbole and falsities. ( in other words, bullshit). But last names need to be added at times. As far as my friends, family and personal acquaintances, (living or dead) I will attempt to leave the last names off. ( unless I decide later to add them.) Since this blog is essentially for myself only, I suppose (I tend to use that word a lot) I can make and change rules as often as I want.

My wife used to joke that if someone asked me what time it was I would explain how a watch works. Well she is probably right. My blogs have no central theme (perhaps beer) on the surface but in a abstract way each is focused to a concluding point. Like I have eluded to in the past writings, I may at some point assemble all of my blogs and attempt to call it some sort of a "book" or something. The concept of my "blog" was and I think shall remain the subject of beer. But in some bizarre way I will sway to more philosophical blurbs. Essentially what I am stating is, "read on" and have trust that at some point all of it will make sense.


I hate to admit it but I have had far too many jobs in my life. My resume looks like a book or at least a pamphlet. If I were to look at my resume I would think. "Damn this guy can not keep a job". Of course I will argue "look at all of my experience." Some of my work experiences have been nothing less than terrible. My first job as a soda jerk ( at Ye Olde Ice Parlour) was humiliating and when I learned I was fired, I was actually jubilant. But, I have had jobs that I loved as well. To be honest I would have worked for free in a few of them. My favorite job was working for a natural gas pipeline company. After working there for five years and being truly under appreciated and looked over, I finally had the opportunity to work in a "department" that not only appreciated my talents but developed them as well. I interviewed for the position (a promotion) in mid October and was informed I had the job. I was to receive a 60% increase in pay. (that's right sixty percent). My current "boss" would not allow me to leave my current job until my position was filled and it was January 3, before I actually changed jobs. He never did fill my position. He did prevent me from receiving an additional $ 3,500 in salary in the nearly three months. He died of cancer a few months later. I was sorry that he was dead but he really did me wrong. In my new job, I finally got my raise and two months later I received a "wage adjustment" and then the company had an across the board raise for everyone. In October of the same year I received a merit increase. In less than a year I more than tripled my salary. I had my own office (not a cubicle) and I really felt if I was contributing. My immediate supervisor was a man by the name of William Arliegh Tison. Bill became one of my very best friends and a true mentor. He was one of only a few persons I have ever met who have made a lasting impression upon me.

Most large corporate structures are, or at least were, a lot like the German army in the pre WW II days. The high ranking officers were mostly from old established pedigree families. In the twentieth century names like Kennedy and now Bush I guess, tend to establish automatic credentials regardless of actual abilities. It is just perceived by the American public (cows) that pedigree rules. In Louisiana no name resounds stronger than that of the Long family. Old Huey P. "The Kingfish" (Uncle Earl's brother) tops the list. Before he gained national fame he took money from his older brother (a dentist) (who thought the money was being used to pay for tuition) and used it to purchase an inventory items to sell such as of vacuum cleaners. He quickly became a very successful salesman. He did go to law school (OU and Tulane) for one year but tired of it's rigors so he "crashed" the Louisiana Bar exam and passed. He practiced law for a while in Shreveport and won a huge lawsuit against one of the largest banks in the State, Commercial National Bank. He moved from his house on Laurel and moved to a better part of town and built a new house. To this day, the initials HPL in wrought iron are embedded on the balcony of the house. When the house was first built it had a fence around it and had a gate for the walkway to the front door. The Kingfish had CNB place in wrought iron on the gate. (Since the proceeds, $ 40,000.00, from his lawsuit paid for the house). His older brother George Shannon (Shan) the dentist built a house on Henderson Ave. in Shreveport and it was the house my oldest daughter's mother lived in when I first met her.

The only difference I ever found between the Democratic leadership and the
Republican leadership is that one of them is skinning you from the ankle up and the
other, from the ear down."

Huey Pierce Long.


I could go on forever about the Kingfish and the "Long legacy in Louisiana but for the time being I shall defer and return to the general direction I was heading. It turns out that Huey's, Shan's and Earl K's mother was a Tison and her brother was the aforementioned Bill Tison's grandfather. This made Bill kin to the most powerful family in the history of the State of Louisiana.(Well then again there were the Le Moyne brothers but we shall visit them another day.). This along with his being first in his class at LSU law, a former roomate of Senator Russell B. Long, Bill's cousin and good friend and classmate of future Vice President Hubert H. Humphry, made him a shoe in to be a big shot at the "gas" company. And he was. Poor Bill was too much like his crazy kin and in addition, he drank a bit. Ok, he drank more than a bit. One of his many wives was the daughter of Claude Poulan and according to him (Bill) they drank up the chainsaw fortune. At some point in his brilliant career, old Bill messed up big time. Had he been anyone other than a member of the Long family, and not held several deep secrets of the key executives of the company, he would have been shown the door. Instead he was demoted to eventually be my boss and mentor.

My job and Bill's was, to a large degree, to compose and review of legal documents regarding land rights etc. (Rights of Way) We were entrusted to make sure that the documents were both legal and "engineeringly" correct. I was neither an attorney or an engineer so I had to coordinate with both the engineering department and legal department in order to insure that each document was "proper" and could be signed by an executive of "the company". Bill ,even in his demoted position, was authorized by the company to "initial" (for signature) contracts. Technically he still was "Senior Attorney" so his W.A.T. was good as gold. I was fortunate to have such a gifted teacher and I actually for once, learned a little. Bill was very impatient and was not afraid to chastise me or speak pretty frankly with me. In addition old Bill was a stutterer. So you had to really listen to him to understand what he was saying. When he read a document or anything, for that matter, out loud, he spoke perfectly. It was only when he was simply talking that he stuttered. He used to tell me stuttering was a Long family curse and that his cousin Louisiana U.S. Senator Russel B. Long stuttered as well. We were truly great friends. He once told me I was the only person he ever met that he truly trusted and actually liked. He and I used to ride to work together and would go duck hunting together. Once ,while setting inside my camper, the night before opening day, I was drinking beer and blowing on my duck call. In other words I was acting like a complete idiot. We were listening to a live radio broadcast from Otto's sporting good store in Shreveport, Louisiana. We were in Winnie, Texas (over 200 hundred miles away). I was wearing a camo cap with Pin Tail feathers on each side of it. Old Bill looked at me and said "Ta Ta Ta Tommy....ya ya you look like a fa fifty seven Cra Cra ah Chrysler.....Old Bill was a surly bastard and was full of contempt and rage at the powers that be within the company. I never learned for sure what he had done to be demoted. I have my suspicions but it really makes no difference now anyway. He insisted that I still coordinate with the legal Department. The attorney assigned to review our contracts was usually the low end on the food chain in the legal department. For about a year that attorney was none other than the future (now current) U. S. Representative from the 18th Congressional District of Texas, Honorable Sheila Jackson Lee. She hated seeing me. I do not think she had a problem with me (in fact we actually became pretty good friends.) but my presence reminded her she was assigned the "shit" detail. Plus I used to tell her I thought her office was trashier than a whore's bedroom. Now here is a funny....The first time I met Sheila and had her review a document for me, I took it back to Bill and told him I met the "new attorney". I informed him that she had graduated from Yale but her Law degree was from the University of Virginia. His comment upon hearing her name was that she must have been named after two Son's of the Confederacy, Robert E. Lee and Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson. Somehow I did not think so. I never mentioned the comment to Sheila.

After a few years had past, Bill took advantage of early retirement and moved to Leadville Colorado ( the two mile high city). I was to go visit him in October 1988 but I learned he drove his truck off the side of a mountain and was killed. I still miss Bill a lot. He was a good man. I had been promoted to Bill position and inherited his private office and all of it trappings. I was even made officer of the company (Assistant Corporate Secretary) I got a company car. I no longer had to camp out on the 73rd floor waiting for rookie attorneys. I had "people" to do that for me. I was even authorized to initial document just as Bill did. I was a big shot. Or at least I was in my own mind. One day I was called into a meeting with several executives of the company and including the aforementioned Mrs. Lee. I learned a lot that day. As I look back at it, I realize I witnessed the beginning of the end of a proud company that day.....

A lot of natural gas pipelines are located in the marsh land of South Louisiana. If you dig a 4'X4' hole in the ground in many parts of Louisiana, it will fill full of water faster than you can excavate the hole. As the thousands of miles of pipelines were built in the late 1940's-1960's ditches were trenched to place the pipeline in and then barges carrying the pipe actually floated on the new "canal". Multiple pipeline companies, thousands of miles of pipelines and thousands of new water ways allowing the saltwater from the Gulf of Mexico to invade into a fragile ecosystem. Now you can enter "Saltwater intrusion" on your favorite search engine and you will see that the potential or the 1960's is now a grim reality of the new century. Now in the State of Louisiana they have certain laws that state if you own land you are entitled to the mineral and other resource contain over and under it. That is unless your land is determined that it is a saltwater march and in such case, the State takes possession of you property and all of the mineral rights attached to it. This was BIG BIG BIG. Our company was very much at liability to God only knows what type of lawsuits would follow. At one time in history, UGPL was the largest pipeline company in America. Years later I too was "laid off" and now the company is literally a shadow of a shell it once was.. But back on the subject, There was a conference to be held in New Orleans, Louisiana and the future Representative Lee and I were chosen to fly over and attend. As we sat next to each other flying over to the meeting I recall Sheila continually referring to the meeting as a Dog and Pony Show. I had never heard that comment before and quickly assumed that it was one made up by Sheila herself. And maybe it was. Now I have been writing for a while now and I finally got to the subject title. Whew! I am tired. I bet you are as well , that is if you got this far.

As I peruse the internet I have found many many many sites that seem to be far more enlightening than mine regarding the subject of beer

Actually I am in so much awe. I do not think that I could ever be as good as they are . But then again my reading audience is me and I do happen to like me. So as far as I am concerned my reader (s?) find that my site is worth the read. The multitude of sites seem to grow exponentially but I suppose as I quoted dear old Larry Ryan earlier. "Everyone is entitled to their own stupid opinion".

So, in summation (well sort of at least) My blog is just one of many Dog and Pony shows.

http://tinysong.com/2Mo9

{Open above link in a new window}


Every Man a King (Bill's favorite song)

Why weep or slumber America?
Land of brave and true.
With castles and clothing and food for all,
All belongs to you.
Every man a King, every man a King
For you can be a millionaire.
If there's something belonging to others
There is enough for all people to share.
When it's sunny June and December too,
Or in the Winter time or Spring.
There will be peace without end.
Every neighbor a friend,
And every man a King.

Written by Huey P. Long and Castro Carazo

Geaux Tigers



The Third