Huh?

Someone found a need to graph the number of bars to the number of grocery stores across the U.S.

I'm not sure I understand the purpose of this measurement, since Froot Loops and "something to do on Saturday night" are completely different commodities. And in rural areas, it's not a big deal to make a weekly trip many miles, possibly to a different county *gasp* for provisions, but it's kind of a drag to drive an hour to hang out and have a beer. So a county without the population to support a grocery store has a bar? HORROR!

But it does confirm my suspicion that the reporters at the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel who keep writing the "Wisconsin's unique (and shameful!!1!) drinking culture" tripe have never lived anywhere else.

This evening I am responsibly enjoying a single bottle of beer at home. I am doing nothing immoral, I am endangering no one, and I paid a buttload of state taxes for the privilege. Anhedonic fascists pretending to care about "health" as it relates to alcohol are cordially invited to go [verb] yourselves. Feel free to live a dry, joyless existence, as is your right, and stop interfering with my right to choose the opposite, mm-kay?

Your choices are unacceptable

A couple of places today I read the NY Times story about how people ordered more calories at fast-food restaurants after the nannies mandated the calorie information for menu items be displayed prominently.

...this just means the anhedoniacs who demand everyone live as joylessly as they do are going to push government to restrict menus.* Restaurants will be the next industry to be legislated into bankruptcy and/or government (GM isn't an exact analogy, as McDonald's has avoided being targeted by SEIU...but CAFE standards and cafe standards....), after the medical industry is destroyed.

And so, an anecdote. In a major fail I do not wish to talk about, I spent a day in August trapped at JFK airport, in Queens**. After standing in line for five hours, I was able to drag my carcass into a chain restaurant for a burger and a beer.

It took me 15 minutes to figure out what all those three-digit integers on the beer list meant.

The put the freaking calorie counts on the BEER LIST.

Obviously, this had no impact on my order. I would drink store brand beer from a can before I would order MGD64 (nasty AND weak), and diet soda is not beer. As it was, I had to settle for a Sam Adams, as the airport franchise did not have the bountiful taps of the standalone franchise I visit most frequently.

Beer is full of B-vitamins, and there have been numerous studies showing that one serving daily has some health benefits. And trapped in an airport, I was in no danger of driving. But the empty totalitarians were trying to scare me away from it. Don't believe for a minute it's about health--it's only about control.

* I'm thinking of donut speakeasies. You know the password, they'll sell you a donut, regardless of your BMI.

** Side note: They apparently "went green" by completely removing the HVAC; particularly repugnant in August at an international airport with frequent flights from cultures that do not value soap or deodorant.

Boldt Castle

So last weekend I went to Canada, and Saturday's adventure was returning to the U.S. *heh* to see Boldt Castle. (I had to show my passport and explain where I met the foreign national...not sure why in 2009 it's hard to believe an Iowa-based corporation could have a Munich branch office...)

It's marketed as a "love story"--hotel magnate George Boldt started building a replica Rhineland castle for his wife, then abandoned construction when she died--but the more interesting story is that George Boldt(pdf) got to be a multimillionaire in the first place.

He started out as a 13-year-old immigrant dishwasher in New York. He learned English. He saved his wages, bought some land in Texas, failed at chicken farming, and returned to upstate NY to wash more dishes at a small hotel. He worked his way up to steward, met a guy who needed a steward at a businessman's club in Philadelphia, moved to the better job, impressed some patrons who invested in a hotel of his own, made it successful, caught the attention of William Waldolf Astor, became a manager of the Waldorf in NYC, revolutionized the hospitality industry, started investing his compensation in real estate, and took off from there.

Much more interesting than "rich guy loses wife, gives up."

It's a classic American story--hard work, a little luck meeting the right people, the willingness to take risks on better opportunity--and except for "investing in real estate" it seems really anachronistic now. Learning English? Moving to a new city to take advantage of an opportunity? (some degreed professionals still do this, but lesser-skilled workers collect government checks to stay put and unemployed...) Going back to washing dishes instead of expecting the government to bail out your failed venture and support your lifestyle?

Not to mention anyone who does these things in the 21st century is going to get kneecapped right around "became a manager of the Waldorf" as local, state, and federal governments combine to confiscate over half his compensation.

So much for feeling inspired.

I got a kick out of the unrestored rooms as much as anything. I love to see how stuff is put together.

Unrelated, spent the weekend drinking Steamwhistle, which is not available in the U.S. Claiming that their use of hops, malt, and yeast "save(s) the planet" strikes me as a ridiculous marketing conceit, but it was tasty.

Heh.

My second-favorite designated driver (meine bayerische Fruend) dropped by New York this weekend to take me to the 1000 Islands region and Ontario. Was quite lovely until we got back to the U.S., where the Border Patrol flagged us for a vehicle search. I had been joking all weekend about being on the DHS "right-wing terrorist" list (I DID attend a Sarah Palin rally last fall...), and there we were. Perhaps when they asked if we bought anything to bring back with us, I shouldn't have said "stuffed animals for my niece and nephews*"--but they're trained to recognize the signs that people are lying, right?

While we were sitting on too-small hard plastic chairs in a holding pen with no bathrooms, surrounded by smugglers and terrorists (who knows, right?), watching the agents drilling people between breaks, all I could think was, "I can't WAIT until this government controls and portions out all our healthcare."** I'm going to smack single-payer** advocates double-hard from now on.

Eventually we were released, and proceded directly back to Syracuse and the Dinosaur BBQ, where a bartender at least 10 years younger than I am carded me when I ordered a beer. I showed him my passport and thanked him for cheering me back up. :)

* Mooses dressed like Mounties. Very cute.
** And wow, did I feel like a nerd when I realized normal people don't have thoughts like that.
*** Unless the "single payer" they advocate is the person receiving the care or their legal guardian. I don't mind that sort of system at all.

Random stuff.

Had a good time in Cooperstown, once we got there. Apparently I do not posess the ability to drive around scarps and drumlins in a hailstorm. The Hall of Fame was excellent (I enjoyed the Racing Sausages, the Hank Aaron exhibit, and the asterisk ball), and Monday morning the town had a Veteran's Day parade (which included some Canadians, although I don't know why because their float was in French) and a ceremony outside the VFW (which meets in an awesome 18th-century brick building) with a 21-gun salute.

In a fit of multiculturalism, we hit a Belgian craft brewery, and the beer was good. Was amused by an Obama tapper in the sample room. I suppose the brewery may not completely go out of business from Obama's business taxes, the cost of his increased business regulations, or even his special federal tax designed to diminish sales of their product, since they're wholly owned by a foreign company (were purchased by Duvel in 2002), but I found it ironic all the same.

Was a sunny cool day, so we took a long way back, and somewhere on I-81 between Birmingham and Syracuse we saw a big-ass painted plywood DRILL HERE DRILL NOW sign in a pasture. I really do feel right at home outside of the metro areas--except for driving where it's not flat--much like in OH and WI; it's really too bad Albany and NYC (and SYR, and BUF...) are taking the whole state down the shitter.

Unrelated...I've been reading a lot of software development blogs, so I may have something to say about that at some point. It's such a meritocratic field, and yet it's populated by so many Marxists...I don't understand, but I want to blame Linux.

And now for something completely different

Yesterday my friend Joe and I went down to Ithaca. Same route I took coming up last month, but this time I got to look around while wolfing down Timbits. We got lost trying to find Buttermilk Falls, but picked up Robert H. Treman SP for the win. Did some hiking in the rain up to Lucifer Falls, which is 115 feet high. And on the trail, we met a guy wearing a Brewers shirt, completely dispelling Joe's theory that I am the only person in the state of New York who cares about the Brewers. Hah!

Next to Ithaca Commons, a douchebag hotspot like the Iowa City ped mall or Madison's State Street but without the panhandlers or empty storefronts (the Earth will not be destroyed if you shower once or even twice a week, I promise). We had some sushi and I bought a carved black cat box at Handwork, the local craft coop, conveniently located across the street from the live sex shows. Reminded me a bit of Portland OR.

And here's some charming graffiti on a bank at the Commons:

You know where spray paint comes from? Capitalism!

Last night we went to a local sports bar, where they turned on "the Cubs game" for us (I was offended, although I got over it pretty quickly), and I enjoyed Harpoon UFO Raspberry Hefeweizen, which was even better than the regular UFO I picked up last week. So now I know where to head when the playoff race heats up...

PSA

May 11-17 is American Craft Beer Week. Have a Cow, man (except Amy :)

Still looking for good NY beers. I hit the Sunday Blues Brunch at the Empire Brewing Company a week ago; the food was good, the hefe-weizen was acceptable, and the waitress's entire chest was covered with black tattoos. I'll return, but perhaps not with my parents.

I have no idea how I missed Sackets Harbor Brewing Co. on Saturday. *mutter*

Strange bedfellows

The Teamsters are protesting a Democrat tax-hike in New York. Merely self-preservation; I'm sure the overall point about crushing taxes destroying jobs will be lost before the next election. Note also that the Republicans were not invited to budget negotiations.

Paterson did relent on the 118% increase on beer taxes, down to a 27% increase, but apparently it's no big deal for InBev to move production to New Hampshire. I don't drink Budweiser, but if they close that'll affect the distributors, and I need them, especially the importers. The Beer Map already looks bleak.

Oh yeah, Portland

Despite the smarmy eco-sanctimony every freaking place we went (gotta ask for water at dinner and bags for your purchases, signs in public restrooms about the water-saving toilets, etc), the downtown/Portland State areas where we spent most of my long weekend trip were filthier than downtown Milwaukee/the east side by UW-Milwaukee. Litter everywhere--the light rail stop outside our "certified green" hotel was covered in newspapers, coffee cups, cigarette butts, sandwich wrappers. And grafitti--not the kind commonly confused with art, just tags. In the commercial/tourist districts.

I thought that was interesting.

I wanted to photograph it all, but I was traveling with people young and hip enough to be embarrassed* about being thought tourists--I carry business cards that say I'm an artist just in case anyone ever wonders why I'm photographing litter--who hustled me quickly from place to place (not a problem after I got hit with the dysentery and felt compelled to maintain proximity to restrooms).

The other thing that stood out was beer all over the place. At every meal and snack stop (alas, not for me). The Neo-Prohibitionists around Wisconsin really need to get out more instead of shrieking about how WI has a "uniquely alcohol-soaked culture." Nothing unique about it.

Heh.

* We saw protesters one day, when we were on the light rail. I said, "What's left to protest? We're all proud to be Americans again! Hope-n-Change is going to fix everything!" And then someone kicked me to shut me up before someone smelled the conservative and we all got arrested for hate speech. Heh heh heh.

I can't comment.

The Madison Beer Review has some interesting comments on the Neo-Prohibition movement in Madison.

I'm increasingly incensed at the abuse heaped on beer drinkers by teetotaling busybodies, especially now that the state government is funding and sanctioning their activities. Go get a life of your own and get the hell out of mine.

Happy Repeal Day!

It kind of snuck up on me. My belated thanks to Utah.

But there's one positive thing we can say alcohol prohibition: At least it was constitutional. The prohibitionists built support for their cause by demonizing alcohol from state to state, winning over local legislators one at a time. When they'd built a sufficient national movement, they started the momentum for a constitutional amendment. Congress didn't pass a blanket federal law, Constitution be damned. They understood that the federal government hasn't the authority to issue a national ban on booze, so they moved to enact the ban properly.

It really was a different era...

Meanwhile, I have a bit of a beer weirdness going on here...in Ohio I picked up a six-pack of "Moe's Backroom Amber Ale" with a "Celebrating the Repeal of Prohibition" label, labeled "Tap Room Brewing Company, Rochester NY" but a Google search reveals it's probably contract-brewed by City Brewery in LaCrosse and there is no "Tap Room Brewing Company." So much for seeking out novelty at the small-town Kroger when I stock up on Mike-Sells (those are the best potato chips on the planet--next time you're in Ohio or Indiana seek them out).

It's not awful, it's going down well with bratwurst and X-Files, but its sketchy provenance is disconcerting and I'm not appreciating the irony of bringing a Wisconsin beer back from Ohio.

Beer...

Something to do to stave off post-election...whatever: I will be seeing the local documentary "99 bottles" at the Rosebud/Times Cinema next weekend. (While the name of the blog is the "Madison Beer Review" they seem to travel around the state.)

And I am shocked I was previously unaware of the Beer Mapping Project. I'm firing that one up the next time I go to München.

This can't be good for America.

Eeew.

Possible tragedy in MN

I can't tell from the photos or the video, so I'm not sure how tragic this really is: "A semi truck carring[sic] beer kegs,[sic] tipped over just off highway[sic] 100 and interstate[sic] 494 in Bloomington Monday afternoon." (Is it just me, or does the KARE11 web proofreader seem a little sloshed themselves?)

Looks like the truck has a Miller Lite logo on the side, but it could be hauling Leinie's... Aside: Don't let your cat spill Berry Weiss on any white shirt you wish to wear again.

This is regrettable; this not so much.

Bavaria Part IV: München Dienstag

Tuesday was foggy and damp, and we got a late start. Indian food for lunch in Freising, then we drove to the U-bahn station near Allianz Arena and took the U-bahn to the Alte Pinakothek.

There are three Pinakotheks, housing art from different periods, and since I can see art after 1800 quite readily in the Midwest I picked the Alte Pinakothek, 14th through 18th centuries. I'm not sure we even got to the 18th century before my brain gave out. Hundreds and hundreds of 14th and 15th century paintings, a room full of Rubens (including one canvas 6m high), saints and flowers, and a whole bunch of naked baby Jesuses. Germans painted skinny baby Jesuses and Italians painted fat ones. Huh.

Gorgeous, all of it. Roland later remarked that he has ruined the MAM for me forever, which was probably his diabolical plan.

Anyway, it was a nasty day and I only took two decent pictures.


Stairs, Alte Pinakothek.


Wieviel ist das Bier in die Fenster? The one with the hop-pity goodness?

Note they are selling MGD for twice what good beer goes for. Windell would be most displeased.

PSA

Deposit, no return.

I see nothing wrong with this:

Illinois man designs beer can coffin

Don't read the comments; The USA Today audience is composed solely of Carrie Nation's sockpuppets.

Meanwhile, there will be a huge party in the Marienplatz the morning of my arrival in München...for the Bayern Fußball team. They've already celebrated their championship by showering in Weißbier, which seems like a waste.

Behold the power of beer.

I just finished Ambitious Brew: The story of American beer by Maureen Ogle. I understand Budweiser now (I won't drink it, but I understand it). They've been brewing it with rice for 140 years.

In the first chapter, she describes the Milwaukee discovered by German immigrants in the 1830s:

"In Mettenheim [birthplace of Phillip Best], the land's potential might have remained cocooned in a web of restraints, dominated by lords and princes and worked by peasants burdened by illiteracy, heavy taxes, and impossible rents. Not so in the United States."

*blink* Sounds like they were escaping the United States of today, if you substitute "environmentalist wackos and nanny-staters" for "lords and princes" and "endless government regulation" for "illiteracy"...

And she quotes a letter to family back home, written by one Nicholas Frest in 1841:

"One cannot describe how good it is in America. In America one knows nothing about taxes. Here one does not need to worry about beggars as we do in Germany. Here a man works for himself. Here the one is equal to the other."

Unbelievable that he was writing about Chicago! They'll charge you 10% sales tax on a brew, on top of the alcohol, property, and income taxes the pub has already paid and included in the price, and I won't even start on the modern equivalent of "beggars."

Then there were the 1855 anti-German Beer Riots, laws passed throughout the 19th century specifically to keep Germans from drinking beer (while English-Americans were free to swill spirits), and the beatings, rapes, and lynchings of Germans during the early 20th century, and not just during WWI. See how my people have been treated! Make that reparations check out to "Heather." [This paragraph may be satire. Or not, I haven't decided yet.]

Can't enough of that wonderful Duff!

Tomorrow is Beer Day in Milwaukee and Wisconsin and around the nation (I'm not linking to anything that mentions swill brewed in St. Louis), celebrating the legal availability of beer at the end of Prohibition (interesting which subsets of fascism people clamor for and against, is it not?).

I found some places to go this summer, including the re-enactment of the celebratory parade in Cross Plains.

Pity poor Iceland--their prohibition on beer lasted 75 years, ending in 1989.

Pabst is re-launching Schlitz in Chicago, which I find interesting in a "huh?" way.

And, heh, I was at a birthday party last night where guests contributed a range of New Glarus and Sam Adams products, Killians, Guinness--and a case of Miller Chill. The dork who brought it was actually surprised at the end of the evening to learn he was the only party-goer who touched it. There's always one...don't be that guy.

(My beer contribution was in the form of a chocolate stout cake. I don't like stouts. I can't sit and drink dark, heavy beers. But that's the best chocolate cake in my repetoire.)

Oh wowz.