Bareback Ridders

My car smells. It has that type of odor where you can’t completely put your finger on it, but you sit down and your like “man this is unpleasant.”  When people try to brand it you get descriptions of smells that no one has ever really smelt but everyone knows what they mean like…”ostridge breath”, or “cough syrup throw up with a hint of yogurt.” The smell also seems to have seasons, like an orbiting ball of shit one day you only catch the sweet scent of dehumidified air and the next your ears can even smell the funk of molding five hour energy. The unfortunate thing was on the morning five of us piled in for our drive to San Diego it was overcast, humid and 87 degrees. Traveling from Los Angeles valentines weekend at 4pm we knew we were in for the long haul. After around 2 hours, the olfactory dispute was staved off only by the distraction of good company and the promise of home brewed goodness. Our crew was staffed with four gents (including me) and a fine piece of ass sitting shotgun and going by the name of Veronica. Filling the back row from left to right was an Armenian icemaker (he acquired this title because he is Armenian and makes ice…) we will call him Mike. Middle sat our token hipster Matt (necessary for any beer tasting trip), rounding out his image with purple Ray Bans and a pocket tee one size too small. Lastly, provocatively window sexing with every Jetta that passed, Bobby, the “I’ll never shave my back because it part of my heritage but I’m damm sexy” guy. After five hours chat grew sour, summoning the scent of our forgotten foe, which strangely reminding us of our hunger. Mike suggested pizza, which seemed a solid. Drifting slightly north we came upon local spot cleverly titled Pizza Port for is prime location and extensive selection of home cooked ale. Finding parking for this teeming pizzaria/brewpub was not difficult but finding a table was… well not difficult either. Squatting ourselves on their somewhat sticky, yet well-equipped park like wooden tables was inviting. I decided to pick up the first round and found their potpourri of beers to be well suited for the coastal environment. Their roughly fifteen Belgian style ales, which are colorfully chalked onto a green board, vary from Sharkbite Red, Rivermouth Raspberry, Seaside Stout, to Ale Nino. Opting for The Road IPA and One Down Brown I decided these alcohol rich beers would start us off forcefully on the appropriate trajectory of abandoned slochyness. The Road hit the standard marks of a quality IPA, Floral citrus hints with a hard aftershock of bitterness. While not my favorite in the field, this cloudy bodied sud is well worth the swallow. One Brown down pours like English ale with an ice cream consistency head that seems to stack together like a ceiling lined with white balloons. It gives off a nice carmelly aroma with a satisfying smooth clean malty sweetness. 

            Once our thick crust crowded topping pizzas showed up we were back in the swing. Scanning the crowd it was filled with salt encrusted, tank wearing locals with their toehead board balancing offspring. While not the typical place to find microbrew snobs we enjoyed the change. But instead of hanging with the brahhs, our company consisted of three flat screens broadcasting the Winter Olympics opening ceremony, a racist Canadian and his lovely wife Susan (One of the biggest misconceptions about Canadians is that they are high minded liberals with their plain clothes and friendly flavored voices. But when you live your whole life only seeing white people and a white landscape its impossible for colored people to seem modest.) Polishing off a fourth pitcher we were beginning to get quite titillated by our new friends.  The parade of countries in unknown alphabetical order proved to be a fun guessing game until our Canadian friend decided to shout, “Terrorits!” when Iraq was presented. I initially cringed but it seemed to catch on as similar cries began to emerge. Israel…”Terrirists!”… Somalia…”Fat Lipped Pirates!”… Turkey… “Two-faced Butchers!” After the ten-minute precession of the USA and two more pitchers of California Honey Ale and Carlsbad Chronic (while not the best of the night, defiantly worth the taste) it was time to depart. With a friendly “salut” and a handful of candied souvenirs we were off to the next leg of our journey, to a string of bars which I have since forgotten their names.

Pointless Shuffles

  The time was finally ripe, after weeks of great anticipation, to scrape my mouth of all the glorious bitterness I have gained over the past weeks. But no, I sorry to inform my faithful that there must be another week of demanded servitude to the coach. I must let it be known, I did not create this blog for selfish reasons of intellectual fame, or to parade my wit in a lubricated fury, or even because I enjoy writing. No, it was because of a class. Not an ordinary class of teachers, backpacks, and large erasers, but one traveling the information superhighway. We were assigned to pick a topic of our fancy, and create a blog. My topic ideas shuffled from discussing the economic impact of the stimulus package to time warping back to’67 and living among the strumming deities. But being that I like drinking beer and spend a good amount of time doing just that, I thought I might actually like writing beer. No more could I feel guilty about spending my paycheck on pint after pitcher after mug on the brown and down. This was for scholastic progress. I was finally going to be able to shout my skunked breath with justification, instead of being kindly escorted out the side door… It’s a wonder I ever got into this school…Anyway where was I? Oh, ya. Instead of writing about things of relevance, we have been required to expand our knowledge of the web by finding our “social bookmarking soulmate.” Turing to bookmarking interfaces such as Diigo and Delicious, we are to comb the clouds of suspended tags, and find the person of marsupial nature, hop in their pouch and drink from their tit of know-how.

     After little time and effort I created a Delicious profile that I feel represents my complexion to an appropriate hue. From there I began the hunt to find my mate. Clicking, scrolling, scanning the landscapes I moved from one beer nerd to the next, sniffing for the one to lay my trust. Naturally, like a well hormonal stripling, I was lead to a fetching dame going by the name of brooklynbeergal. After following my bookmark of Draft Magazine, I saw her sitting patiently between two dull stouts by the names of density.rm and alleciav. Like a recently cleaned water fountain, I softly pushed down my thumb and was satisfyingly refreshed by her sophisticated clarity. Without even asking, she allowed me to scroll her tags with comfort. I was immediately aroused by her leading tag---BEER.  With over 350 bookmarked sites, titles varying from “fuck yeah beer” to “Beer Cupcakes, One for the Guys,” it was as if she saw me from across the park and put on the red lipstick. Nexting through the thrity-six pages my trust thickened. I randomly selected what looked like a tempting URL and was directed to a phenomenal Chicago based microbrewery, Kuhnhenn Brewing Company. Eagerly continuing on I found her interests ranged from not only beer drinking, but crafting as well. As a member of the Home Brewers Association, she showed that she doesn’t limit her elegance to online pastimes, but showers the world with a philanthropic spirit. I was beginning to feel worried when I had yet to find any reference to the “Greatest Beer State in the World!” Until… The Brewery. This “small craft brewery” in Orange County houses a selection of beers that would make a Michelob cry until empty, then shatter in shame. Whether it was fate, natural selection, or just a fabulously slutty tagger, I was sick with passion. After briefly reminiscing about the last ten minutes, I was choked up thinking about how close we had become. Scrolling to the top right hand corner of the page, I took the final step in sealing our bond. Hovering my finger pointer over “Add to my Network,” I once again pressed down my thumb forever inviting brooklynbeergal into my virtual life. My assignment was complete, I found my soulmate.

Edited posts

BeerBreath


This being my first blog and only my third post I am still actively searching for a voice that will hopefully belch so eloquently Arthur Guinness himself will have to take notice. So I went on a search to find other beer bloggers that have already mastered the pour. Having only recently profiled Michael Carter’s secondary pastime page, it was time to tackle the big guts. Scouring the Internet, I listened to a great range of pitches, from the assertive Pete Brown, to the all-inclusive Full Pint and also a lady of great control. After some time and smirks I finally landed the lad I was looking for on the island of the queen.

Going by the name Cooking Lager, he describes himself as “northern scum,” who loves beer, but will gladly sacrifice alcohol content for quality. But what struck me about this blog wasn’t the subject matter, which is predominantly his daily quest for drunkenness, but his hilarious wordage, random side stories, and exaggerated English accent. Having been writing for a little over a year now, he valiantly posts about three times a week. How anyone has the time for this is beyond me, but they must have a considerably stimulating job… Anyway, what I find great about his writing is that underneath his character of words, he is still able to be strikingly honest and poignant.

The first post I read was titled Coors Light. This struck me as somewhat suspicious for an Englishman, but I read on. His slang and tone was at first difficult to unravel, but continued reading proved to be quite duck soup. In this particular post, after ordering a Coors Light at the local pub, he is reminded of an old friend with whom he graciously shared his couch for some time. This “uninvited guest,” worked at the local grocery store and would regularly bring back this “flavourless watery grog.” Continuing he writes----

“Not really sure whether he technically nicked it, bought it for tuppence or got given it. Either way we disposed of the evidence whilst playing car racing games on the playstation.”

 This is the typical mood of his writing. It has little to do with the types of beer he drinks, but more the memories and emotions they arouse. His choice of words like, “grog,” “nicked,” and “necking,” are story regulars. Much like good antagonists, my first reaction to these colloquialisms were negative, but the more he worked them into his writing, the more I eagerly awaited their arrival. Also, his periodic reference to his wife/girlfriend as his “squeeze” originally appears slightly disrespectful but develops into something quite charming.

My favorite tirade, titled “Tramps Piss!” is a charming anecdote about a day in the life of a homeless drunk, in what he calls “tramp living.” After a biannual visit to the dentist, he attempts to “bum” enough money to get properly “sloshed” by dinnertime.

“Soon I had just over £3 in shrapnel. With my bottle of Scottish grog gone and having neglected to bring along an emergency ration it was off into the supermarket to see what my money would buy me. I was obviously looking for strong grog sold irresponsibly. A stiff hit for within my £3. I headed for the Spesh. It was over £6 a four pack. No individual cans. All of the other Spesh wannabees were packaged in the same manner. What’s a tramp supposed to do? I pondered asking to see the manager to inform him of his failure to capture the tramp market but as I noticed a fella from security looking at me and talking into his walkie talkie I went to look at the individual bottles of grog. This is usually premium priced craft brewing but I got a result. Robinsons Old Tom. 8.5%. 2 for £3. It was as if god was looking after me and wanting my experiment in tramp living to succeed. Thank you god for irresponsible alcohol retailing.”

For Cooking Lager, his essays are not about highlighting a good microbrew, or even enjoying the carbonated nectar, but the culture of drinking itself. He writes, “As I’m not really a beer enthusiast I never went anywhere and sought out the beer, just found myself somewhere because either I had to work there or wanted to visit.” In it for the experience and story, blogging is the perfect medium for a man of his compulsion. Furthermore, he doesn’t limit himself to his own page and properly refers the reader to other bloggers of his liking. Regularly alluding to them in his posts he also periodically comments on theirs. Like an online tavern, they have created a web of typing drunkards ready to fight the next “bucking idiot” who opposes them.

JuicyZeus




Side Profile

Michael Carter is his name, planes and beer is his game. Ok, so that will be the last corny line I hopefully will purposefully write. I stumbled upon this blog when I first started conceptualizing my own, and found it helpful in a couple ways. Mr. Carter is a maestro of the point and click. More then words, pictures take up the majority his page. His beer blog is clearly a secondary site to his primary passion of airline photography on "Aero Pacific Flightlines." If you have any interest in “SoCal Aircraft Spotting, Douglas Aircraft Company (DAC) and Gulfstream News, plus Domestic and International Airline News,” then most certainly check this out. His beer blog, entitled “Awesome Microbrews, Microbreweries, and Brewery / Restaurants,” is new and not quite as developed. With only around ten posts at first glance seems to be fairly lacking. But Michael is no amateur as he has been posting since 2007, which shows in his use of links and easy to follow formatting. His words are employed only as brief descriptions and underscores. The photo gallery and brewery/restaurant suggestions are the main content. This guy clearly knows his beer but doesn’t choke you with an overloaded analysis. He’s the beer drinkers’ blogger. Microbrews can carry a pretentious connotation. If you talk to an outsider, they will attack the high prices, the snooty over dissection of flavor, and the flamboyant drinkers it attracts. But this blog seems to find a happy balance. His pictures show a rough, storied drinker whose motive is clearly selfless. With his hat on and pint in hand, he just loves the beer and the people he meets along the way. His posting is not used to boast about his talents and general expertise, but to share his passions and travels.


My favorite beer that he profiles is Bear Republics "Racer 5" India Pale Ale. I was thrilled when I found this post, as only a few days ago a friend of mine introduced me to this first-rate brew. He describes it perfectly saying it “never disappoints starting with a citrisy nose as you open the bottle and a crisp flavor that builds with every sip.” These are the kinds of words I hope to conjure in my lyrical attempts. What I most enjoy about his writings is that he lets the breweries do their own talking. If he likes a beer he will only briefly describe it, but then redirect you to the company site to hear it directly from the mouth of the bottle. He’s not selling these beers only sharing their artistry. This is a technique that will be utilized regularly by myself.

Like I said, this blog is relatively undeveloped, and focuses only on a small portion of the beer spectrum. Because I don’t know an extraordinary amount about the different types of beer, I will also like to discover how they are made, and what makes them different. Instead of mainly reviews and situational accounts, I will get more detailed into the brewing process. But thanks to my new friend Mike, I now have some great new brewskis on my taste bud inventory. My most anticipated is Coronado Brewing Company's "Islander,” which Mike classifies as his premier IPA. I will end with his illustration of this beer for one last gulp of this wonderful blog. “It has a mild hoppy nose, deep golden color, medium body, and when you take that first taste this well balanced IPA explodes in your mouth as the Hops and Malts tickle your palet with a citrus blast.”


And as Mr. Carter nostalgically signs off,

“Cheers”

JuicyZeus



California Bubble

Listeners of varied persuasions welcome to my blog. Throughout the next fourteen weeks I will be investigating the liquid that’s both the life of the party, but that can also be as complex and distinguished as a ‘97 California Cab. The revolution of California microbreweries has taken the Gold Coast by storm, demanding a different kind of drinker, but that same laid-back attitude.

Traveling abroad for some time it was hard not to see the influence that a local beer has on the surrounding community. People communalize around this bitter brew. Pubs only carry the local beer, and the people are loyal to their conventions. From the many varieties of pilsner in Eastern Europe to the dark passions of the Isles, beer is carried through heritage like freckles and blond hair. My return home awakened me to the lack of American distinction. American beer is a mass produced equation, developed to taste exactly like each competitor and only separated by broad advertisements claims. It disheartens me when “drinkers” spend precious conversations arguing the excellence of Miller over Bud. Or when I go into a beer house and see the only thing people drinking is their habitual 4.3% piss. But the American beer is in the process of reinvention, and has been for quite sometime. The microbrew is a mode of elusion for the unconventional drinker. It’s a way to challenge the conformist, taste the uncommon, and feel passionate about the design. If you’re unsure of what designates a microbrew from other American beers, I will be using a very simple distinction. Ask the question, does is come in a can? If so, it’s most likely not a microbrew. Now obviously this isn’t perfect, but it’s a good rule for a newcomer to go by.

In this blog I will mainly be discussing California microbrews, but similar reformations can be found all across the States. I will do my best to show how easy it can be to find beers from all across the granular spectrum. Not only through write-ups and reviews, I will also discuss the differing processes in which they are made. I will visit some breweries in my area, and hopefully talk with their creators. The beer experience is not confined to the bottle, but is best witnessed when streaming from the tap and in an environment of other enthusiasts. Finding your local bar or eatery devoted to these ideals is critical. If you’re reading this, you probably already have a place in mind, but it’s time for expansion. Shared participation is as essential to beer as the hops and malt.

I am no expert in this topic, and will not act like one. The next couple months will be undertaken with an extremely susceptible and objective mind and tongue. I aim to garner a greater sense of my own refinements, how they are developed, the cultural relevance, and the people who make them possible. If all goes clockwork, I will at least capture a timely voice and the occasionally pickled mind.

JuicyZeus

BeerBreath

This being my first blog, and have only posted three times I am still actively searching for a voice that will hopefully belch so eloquently Arthur Guinness himself will have to take notice. So I went on a search of my own, to find other beer bloggers that have already mastered the pour. Having only recently profiled Michael Carter’s secondary pastime page, it was time to tackle the big guts. Scouring the Internet, I listened to a great range of pitches, from the assertive Pete Brown, to the all-inclusive Full Pint and a lady of great control. After some time and smirks I finally landed the lad I was looking for on the island of the queen.

Going by the name Cooking Lager, with the same blog title, he describes himself as “northern scum,” who loves beer, but will gladly sacrifice alcohol content for quality. But what struck me about this blog wasn’t what he is writing about, which is mainly the daily quest of drunkenness, but his hilarious wordage, random side stories, and exaggerated English accent. Having been writing for a little over a year now, he valiantly posts about three times a week. How anyone has the time for this is beyond me, but they must have some considerably stimulating job. Anyway, what I find great about his writing is that underneath his character of words, he is still able to be strikingly honest about his true self.

The first post I read of his was titled Coors Light. This struck me as somewhat suspicious for an Englishman, but I read on. His slang was at first difficult to unravel, but once I got the direction and tone it was quite duck soup. In this particular post, after ordering a Coors Light at a local pub he is reminded of old friend with whom he used to share his couch. This “uninvited guest,” who worked at the local grocery store, used to regularly bring back the “flavourless watery grog.” And he writes,

“Not really sure whether he technically nicked it, bought it for tuppence or got given it. Either way we disposed of the evidence whilst playing car racing games on the playstation.”

This is the keynote of the majority of his writings. It has little to do with the beer and more the memories and emotions they arouse. His choice of words like, “grog,” “nicked,” and “necking,” are story regulars. Much like a good protagonists, my first reaction to the colloquialisms were negative, but the more he worked them into his writing, the more I eagerly awaited their arrival. Also, his periodic reference of his wife/girlfriend as his “squeeze” is more charming then disrespectful.

My most favorite tirade, titled “Tramps Piss!” is a charming anecdote about a day in the life of a homeless drunk, in what he calls “tramp living.” After a biannual visit to the dentist, he attempts to bum enough money to get properly sloshed until it time to return home for dinner.

“Soon I had just over £3 in shrapnel. With my bottle of Scottish grog gone and having neglected to bring along an emergency ration it was off into the supermarket to see what my money would buy me. I was obviously looking for strong grog sold irresponsibly. A stiff hit for within my £3. I headed for the Spesh. It was over £6 a four pack. No individual cans. All of the other Spesh wannabees were packaged in the same manner. What’s a tramp supposed to do? I pondered asking to see the manager to inform him of his failure to capture the tramp market but as I noticed a fella from security looking at me and talking into his walkie talkie I went to look at the individual bottles of grog. This is usually premium priced craft brewing but I got a result. Robinsons Old Tom. 8.5%. 2 for £3. It was as if god was looking after me and wanting my experiment in tramp living to succeed. Thank you god for irresponsible alcohol retailing.”

For Cooking Lager, his essays are not about highlighting a good microbrew, or even enjoying the carbonated nectar, but the culture of drinking it. He writes, “As I’m not really a beer enthusiast I never went anywhere and sought out the beer, just found myself somewhere because either I had to work there or wanted to visit.” In it for the experience and story, blogging is the perfect medium for a man of his compulsion. And not limiting himself to his own page, he properly refers you to bloggers of his liking, with whom he sites and converses. Like an online tavern, they have created a web of typing drunkards ready to fight the next “bucking idiot” who opposes them.

A BeerBlog Profile

Michael Carter is his name and planes and beer is his game. Ok, so that will be the last corny line I hopefully will purposefully write. I stumbled upon this blog when I first started conceptualizing my own, and found it helpful in a couple ways. The best things Mr. Carter does are pictures. More then words, pictures take up the majority of the page. This blog is clearly a secondary site to his main blog about airline photography, which he is obviously skilled at. If you have any interest in “SoCal Aircraft Spotting, Douglas Aircraft Company (DAC) and Gulfstream News, plus Domestic and International Airline News,” then most certainly check this out. His beer blog, entitled “Awesome Microbrews, Microbreweries, and Brewery / Restaurants,” is new and not quite as developed. With only about ten posts, at first glance seems to be fairly lacking. But Michael is no amateur, he has been posting since 2007, and it shows in his use of links and easy to follow formatting. The words are used as only brief descriptions and suggestions, the photo gallery and brewery/restaurant suggestions are the real content. This guy clearly knows his beer, but he doesn’t choke you with overloaded analysis. He’s the beer drinkers’ blogger. Microbrews carry an ostentatious implication. If you talk to an antagonist, they will attack the high prices, the snooty over dissection of flavor, and the flamboyant drinkers it attracts. But this blog seems to find a happy balance. His pictures show a rough, storied drinker whose motive is clearly selfless. With his hat on and pint in hand, he just loves the beer and the people he meets along the way. His posting is not to boast about his talents and general expertise, but to share his passions and travels.
My favorite beer that he profiles is Bear Republics "Racer 5" India Pale Ale. I was thrilled when I found this post, as only a few days ago a friend of mine introduced me to this first-rate brew. He describes it perfectly saying it “never disappoints starting with a citrisy nose as you open the bottle and a crisp flavor that builds with every sip.” These are the kinds of words I hope to conjure in my lyrical attempts. What I most enjoy about his writings is that he lets the breweries do their own talking. If he likes a beer, he will briefly describe it, but then redirect you to the company site to hear it directly from the mouth of the bottle. He’s not selling these beers, only sharing their artistry. This is technique that will be utilized regularly by myself.
Like I said, this blog is relatively undeveloped, and focuses only on a small portion of the beer spectrum. Because I don’t know an extraordinary amount about the different types of beer, I will also like to discover how they are made, and what makes them different. Instead of only reviews and situational accounts, I will like to get more detailed in the brewing process. But thanks to my new friend Mike, I now have some great new brewskis on my taste bud inventory. My most anticipated is Coronado Brewing Company's "Islander,” which Mike classifies as his premier IPA. I will end with his illustration of this beer for one last gulp of this wonderful blog. “It has a mild hoppy nose, deep golden color, medium body, and when you take that first taste this well balanced IPA explodes in your mouth as the Hops and Malts tickle your palet with a citrus blast.”


And as Mr. Carter nostalgically signs off,

“Cheers”

JuicyZeus

California Bubbles

Listeners of varied persuasions welcome to my blog. This is about the juice that’s both the life of the party, but can also be as complex and distinguished as a 1997 California Cabernet. Throughout the next fourteen weeks I will be investigating the revolution of California microbreweries.
Traveling abroad for some time it was hard not to see the influence that a local beer has on its surrounding community. People communalize around this bitter brew. Pubs only carry local beers, and the people don’t dare to stray from their conventions. From the many varieties of pilsner in Eastern Europe to the dark passions of the Isles, beer is carried through heritage like freckles and blond hair. Coming home awakened me to the lack of American distinction. American beer is a mass produced equation, developed to taste exactly like each competitor, and only separated by broad advertisements claims. It really disheartens me when “drinkers” spend precious conversations arguing the excellence of a Miller Lite over a Bud. Or when I go into a beer house and see the only thing people drink is their habitual 4.3% piss. But the American beer is in the process of reinvention, and has been for quite sometime. The microbrew is the mode of elusion for the unconventional drinker. It’s a way to find your taste, and feel passionate about where it came from. If you’re unsure of what designates a microbrew from other American beers, we will be using a very simple distinction. Ask one simple question. Does is come in a can? If so, it’s not a microbrew. Now obviously this isn’t perfect, but it’s a good convention for a newcomer to go by.
For this blog we will mainly be discussing California beers, but the same concepts are true all over the States. I will do my best to show how easy it is to find beers in your area all across the granular spectrum. Not only will I be doing write-ups on a new tastes and breweries, but I will discuss the process in which they are made. I will be visiting some beer houses in my area, and hopefully talking with their creators. The beer experience is not only confined to the bottle, but is best witnessed when streaming from the tap, and in an environment of other enthusiasts. Because of this, finding your local bar or eatery devoted to these ideals is key, and becoming quite common. If you’re reading this, you probably already have a place in mind, but it’s time for expansion. Beer is as much about the shared participation as the ingredients.
I am no expert in this topic, and will not act like one. The next couple months will be undertaken with an extremely susceptible and objective mind and tongue. I aim to garner a greater sense of my refinements, how they are developed, the cultural relevance, and people who make them possible. If all goes clockwork, I will at least capture a timely voice and the occasionally pickled mind.