For the Record

I've been at this for two years now, and not only have I NOT burned the 400 Beers off, I may have actually bumped it up to about 800 Beers. On many occasions, I have lost track of either what I've been putting in or what I've taken out. I've also had weeks where the net gain/loss on the beer/mileage has been 0, yet I dropped up to 5 pounds ... strictly though stress, I suppose.

At any rate, we shall continue ...

The Green Room

The Green Room is a surfing term used to describe the internal aspect or space of a breaking wave. The green room or barrel is inside the tube. A greenish-blue color illuminates within the tube, from the sunlight shining through the blue water.

Being landlocked, I have come to describe the "green room" in slightly different way.

The Green Room is a running term used to describe a tunnel created by trees arching over a road or path. On sunny days, a brilliant green illuminates the passage from the sunlight shining through the leaves above.




"The Green Room" is also referred as "Emerald City"

The Legendary Pre-Father’s Day Lawnmower Beer Championship 3-Way Dance

I had been neglectful. Very neglectful.

Due to a maddening schedule of birthday party obligations, PTA meetings, Distance Run and Cancer Society Ride training and just plain bad weather, the back yard had gone from a promising green playground to slightly over-grown but filling in nicely to “remember when there was just a meadow here? It’s back.”




Cutting this mess down was going to take work. And when it was done, there would be a great need for beer. Lawnmower beer.

After breaking out the grinder and sharpening the blades, I dug in. Did you know that yellow jackets make there nests under ground??? I do now.

The depth of the grass made it necessary for me to push the mower back and forth down the line. Simply going forward would only bend the grass over, not actually cut it. I would move forward the length of the deck at a time. For the same reason I couldn’t take a wide path either; I need to overlap by ½ a blade at best.

I made good progress for the first 15 minutes, in spite of my encounter with the Vespula maculifrons girls. However, I was working in the level shade, and dealing with more domesticated grassland. The wild weedy sloping meadow waited for me in the sunshine.

Another half hour later and the first cut [North-South] was done. East-West only took fifteen more minutes.

It may not all be green – it may not be all even be grass – but at least it’s all [about] the same height.

The Legendary Pre-Father’s Day Lawnmower Beer Championship 3-Way Dance:
Hoegaarden [c] vs. Victory Whirlwind Witbier vs. Flying Dog Woody Creek White Belgian Ale

The most common example of an elimination match is the Three-Way Dance, where the first fall would eliminate one wrestler, reducing the match to a standard one-fall match. The Three-Way Dance (when not used as a synonym of the Triple Threat Match) is a specialty of Extreme Championship Wrestling.

Crowds at ECW events were well known for their rowdiness and distinctive chants that either supported or demeaned what was transpiring in the ring. ECW chants such as "You fucked up!" and "Holy shit!" became infamous during those shows, and are still used by fans in other promotions.
In ECW, there were virtually no rules. Weapons were abundant, with much blood spilled. There were referees, but their role was normally limited to counting pinfalls and acknowledging submissions, occasionally performing tag team maneuvers with a wrestler during the match, several times becoming the winner of the match themselves though not officially a part of the bout.
ECW was known for making popular several types of matches:

Barbed Wire Match

Flaming Tables Match

Singapore Cane Match

Stairway to Hell Match

Three-Way Dance

ECW was also infamous for regularly holding "Bring Your Own Weapon Nights" at the ECW Arena in the early days of the promotion. Fans were encouraged to bring their own weapons to give to wrestlers, as fighting in the crowd was a staple of ECW matches. A dollar store located next to the ECW Arena often supplied the bulk of the weapons, with fans purchasing them while they waited in line for each show. Memorable weapons included crutches, a large piece of cardboard with the words "Use Me!" handwritten on it but actually concealing a full-sized Stop sign, a two-man kayak, a Leonard Cohen vinyl record, a VCR (with remote), and a Nintendo Entertainment System. An accident actually helped put an end to Bring Your Own Weapon Night when wrestler Cactus Jack, believing the weapon he was holding to be an inexpensive aluminum pan, swung the object full force into The Sandman's head. When he heard the resulting "clang" noise, he realized the object was in fact a cast-iron skillet, and The Sandman's resulting injury put him out of action for two weeks.

Hoegaarden [Who-Gar-Den] - The Defending 90°+ Champion
Such is my esteem for Hoegaarden, that last year I brought NO Mexican cerveza into my house at all. No Corona, no Sol, no Presidente; no Mexican at all. By September, D’Kid was actually mad enough at me to ask “Don’t you love Mexico anymore?”

“Sure, I still do, sweetie. Mexico made me what I am now. I take Mexico with me always.”

Victory Whirlwind Witbier
What is they say? “Think Global; Drink Local.” Victory in PA in not only the closest brewery to me making a nice challenger to The Ho, but is a quality brewery all around. My deepest respects to Flying Fish [Cherry Hill, NJ] and the departed Heavyweight Brewing, but if there was no Dogfish Head, Victory would be the best brewery between LGA and BWI.

Flying Dog Woody Creek White Belgian Ale
Newcomer. I got the email announcing the “Name our Summer Seasonal” winner on the last day on May. Not one week later ,a nice six of Flying Dog Woody Creek White Belgian Ale was sitting the cooler of La Cervezeria. Wow, they work quickly in CO.

RULES:

Beers will be judged against the champ: Hoegaarden.

HoGard will receive a score of 10 in all categories [except “Intangibles”] – as a baseline.

If you’re not as good, you lose points; better than, gain points.

Understood???

“Let’s play.”

The Pour: Victory and Dog poured a bit thinner head, allowing us to get to sippin’ a bit earlier than the Ho. The Ho presented a brilliant white and tight foam, almost a meringue, filling up ½ a pint on the initial pour. Personally, I want to dive into the yard work and stay with it until completion ; I don’t need to pour my beer after cutting yet before edging, and hope that all that fluff is gone by the time I set my ass on the porch swing. I would rather punch through the whole deal in one chunk, knowing that when it’s done, I’m done and I can settle down with nothing further to do.

Score: HoG: 10; Victory: 10.5; F-Dog: 10.5

Uh-oh!!! HoG on the ropes early.

The Color: Of the three, HoG is the lightest, but only slightly. Victory and Dog are slightly richer. In this case, for this purpose, I have no problem with my beer resembling lemonade or even a fizzy margarita. But still …

Three-Way Push – 10 for All

L’Aroma: HoG steps in with the sour lemon with just a touch of stinky feet. Victory comes in with a healthy does of Lemon Pledge sprayed on a bagel. A sniff of El Dog is very citrus and spice, but without a good grain foundation. No bicycle tire [surprisingly, a plus] evident among the top three.

Score: HoG: 10; Victory: 10; F-Dog: 9

The Dog slips!!!

Tasting: HoG is a crisp, clean, light beer; the kind you can slip in between cutting the grass, taking D’Kid to dance/soccer/T-ball, going food shopping, a trip to Target, in other words: completely pussying out. But, because of its uniquely Belgian qualities [i.e., you don’t have NASCAR-beer breath], none of the Mom’s you will interact with during your Saturday (or Sunday, depending on your custody agreement), will think of you as anything but “charming” … that is if you should fuck up and put yourself in a position where you would HAVE TO take D’Kid to dance/soccer/T-ball, go food shopping or take a trip to Target.

Victory is a richer Hoegaarden. Ho leaves more yeast on the bottom of the bottle, Vic brings it up and out – oooh, my skin’s clearing up!!! It’s also got a touch more ABV. Granted, after buzzing down an acre of vegetation, I knew re-hydration was of prime importance. But I also wanted to get it over with, crck a high powered beer and call it a day,

Woody Creek White Belgian Ale neither sucked nor excelled. It was nice. “Nice” is not an adjective you want to associate with Hunter S. Thompson, even if it is two or the degrees removed.

Maybe it’s my Dogfish Head bias, but I think if Hunter were here to choose which brewery best carried on his legacy – in spirit, not location – Dogfish would be the easy winner. But DFH doesn’t make a Wit. So, as I said, Victory being the next best thing …

Score: HoG: 10; Victory: 10.5; F-Dog: 9

Intangibles: These are usually the points bookmakers throw in to level the playing field between what they really think and what the Vegas line says …

I don’t have that kind of responsibility.

Packaging Design: I hate that the Hoegaarden handle pops down when I least expect it.”Oh shit, did the handle just break??!!”

As much as I love Ralph Steadman – WTF??!!! What’s with the floating eyeballs, man???

Score: HoG: -0.5; F-Dog: -0.5

Stupid Name: Is Flying Dog trying to tap into the HST income pipeline??? What kind of a bump did they get with “Gonzo Imperial Porter?” When Johnny “Captain Jack Sparrow” Depp completes “The Rum Diaries,” there will be great coin to be made on all things Thompson??? Keeping with the Doggie theme – knowing they were going Belgian - I suggested “Fleur de Leash”

Score: F-Dog: -0.5

Final Score:

Victory Whirlwind Witbier: 41.0

Hoegaarden: 39.5
Flying Dog Woody Creek White Belgian Ale: 37.5

Victory takes the belt in a stunning upset!!! And without hitting anyone with a chair or pile-driving someone through a table

Formerly Known as "HeatSeeker"

Today, on my mid-afternoon trot, I saw at least 8 pairs of sunglasses by the side of the road. They were mostly of the pale pink, purple or orange lensed variety with clunky goldish frames; they same as favored by a certain celebretard/ Slut-kateer who shares Lois Lane's initials.

I surmised that - much as stunned Beatlemaniacs had reacted when St. John Lennon proclaimed the Beatles "more popular than Jesus" which prompted them to throw copies of "Meet The Beatles" to the flames - the Lohanistas had finished their last Red Bull & Vodkas and thrown their eyewear from their cars in horror, shame, disgust and defiance.

Or, they just passed out with their heads hanging out the window and the shades fell off as they puked*



In any case ...

As I sit here, sipping on a refreshing Hoegaarden, I am reminded of a time when I could run 4 miles - or more - in 90° heat without worry.

It occured to me at about mile 3 that I may be 10 years and 15 pounds removed from such activity.

I'll do better next weekend.













* No vomitory evidence was seen, thank goodness.

25 Years and ...

I would like to say 25,000 miles, but that's not even close. I've tried to run 1,000 miles in a year - I think the closest I came was in the 800's. To manage 1,000 miles in a year a person needs to put in 2.75 miles or so every day, with no days off. A reasonable alternative would be to run 4 miles two days in a row and take the third off.

When you calculate it that way, maybe I was running 1,000 a year when I lived in Philly.

I knew I should have kept a log book.