Last Minute New Year's Eve

If you’re anything like the rest of us around here you already know what doing on New Year’s Eve: Drinking. That doesn’t mean you know Where you’re drinking, just that you’ll be drinking somewhere. There are many ways to drink away the last night of the year, and below is a variety of last minute ideas to get you into 2010. (Sorry north, south and east Knoxville) Who knows, maybe we can all get together for that drink we’ve been talking about? Uh, no, I’ll be staying home watching the Vols and drinking bourbon. Feel free to comment on your plans or other options. Thanks to everyone for stopping by to check us out throughout the year. Here’s to more fun in 2010, cheers!

Downtown/Market Sq.
Club Le Conte – Society Only
Downtown Grill & Brewery – The rest of us
Le Parigo - Wonder if the duck was shipped in from Alsace?
Preservation Pub – Tiki party
Valarium & Cider House – VooDoo NY10 with downtown Hilton hotel package

The Old City
Barley’s Taproom – The usual, live music and good beer selection
Patrick Sullivan’s – Live music and the bar is open
The Crown & Goose – The Old City’s fanciest gastropub!
The Melting Pot – Someone tell Tony there’s a reservation on line 2.

The Strip
BAR Knoxville – Er, maybe not?
Tin Roof – UT Basketball, UT Football. Let’s face it, there’s no way you’re sober at midnight.
Level 10 – Short West

West Knoxville
Baker Peters Jazz Club – Damn that chicken entrĂ©e sounds delicious
Northshore BrasserieEverything looks delicious
Paul’s Oasis – WTF
Ray’s ESG – Scarlett O’Harlot, where are you?


Great Drunks of the Silver Screen 11.0

Er...or the small screen in this case. Hey, and look here now-it's a woman this time. I give you:

Sue Ellen Ewing, Dallas socialite and dysfunctional alkie. Glug-glug.

Strengths: Vengeful bitch, partial owner of Ewing Oil, powerful liver

Weaknesses: Pisses her pants around JR, repeatedly.

During the late 70's and through the decade of excess known as the 80's many viewing starved Americans gathered round the old teevee and vegged out on some quality primetime soap operas. First among equals, Dallas was the place to be for my parents and their age group that didn't roll into the dungheaps of local bars. I don't remember everything about this program, but my mother would whip my ass if I talked outside a commerical break.

Anyhoo, Sue Ellen (as any viewer could tell you) dealt with her abusive and straying bastard of a husband JR by drinking anything shy of paint thinner. Though purists and fans will tell you she only became an dreaded alkie during the show's run, my much more awesome recollection puts her squarely in the back of iconic Southfork:

Soused 24/7 often rolling about in a nightgown-in the grass, falling in the pool, flipping cowshit, etc. That's the gist. Numerous intriques, business fuckery, petrowarfare, and animal husbandry all seemed secondary to Sue Ellen's emotional minefield of suspicion and abuse. Mark well this exchange in the famous who-shot-Jr arc:

Yes, quite the reasonable response indeed. These two have more horns on their heads than irradiated cattle and it makes for great tension. Continuing in this vein, JR uses his parents(who must have sinned terribly in their previous lives) to kick her ass.

Classic. High fucking drama for 1981. Or 1982. Those days tend to blur. JR goes on to tell our stoic and sauced heroine something along the lines of her being a terrible mother and a drunk. Everything else goes nuclear when he further threatens to send her to the booby hatch. If you look closely, JR does this scene with piece of bacon in his hand.

The fact that Sue Ellen was not in fact JR's assailant is a bona fide miracle. We can only point out that her self-destructive boozing prevented a coherent premeditated murder, which in and of itself is pretty odd on this program. Dallas was sorta confusing.


Guess Who's Back

Back again. Rocka’s back. Ok, that’s enough Eminem forever.

Lt. Rocka is back with Episode XIII, only eight months after episode XII debuted in March. Wow, that’s the kind of productivity we can relate to. Follow the link to download his unique blend of indie music, college radio, mash ups, and occasional words of wisdom. Enjoy this one on us, Merry Christmas!

1. Animal Collective – Leaf House
2. Medeski Martin and Wood – Let’s Go Everywhere
3. Miike Snow – Animal
4. Noah and the Whale – Blue Skies (Remix)
5. Spoon – Got Nuttin
6. White Denim – Regina Holding Hands
7. Lil Wayne – Banned From TV (Lane Kiffin Puffin Remix)
8. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes – 40 Day Dream
9. Micachu and the Shapes – Golden Phone
10. The Soft Pack – Answer to Yourself
11. E-360 Jackson 5
12. Jackson 5 – Doctor My Eyes
13. Notorious BIG vs Michael Jackson – Rock With You
14. NWA vs The Outfield
15. Oasis – Shock of the Lightning
16. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Zero
17. Chali 2Na – Comin Thru
18. TV on the Radio – Cryin
19. Phoenix – Listzomania
20. The Knux – Cappucino
21. Super Furry Animals – Inaugural Trams
22. The Strokes – you only live once


Rumor Mill

For weeks I’ve been meaning to generate some idle talk about an Old City grocery that will be opening soon. Distractions aside, the latest update I’ve heard is that things are progressing, though I’ve driven by several times and have yet to see any changes inside or out. The space is somewhere between the costume shop and Hannah’s on Central. Despite not knowing the actual address I have been inside the building with one of the co-owners and it is ideal for the concept he is going for. It’s not going to be any kind of chain or franchise establishment but more of a quaint, neighborhood style mini-grocery that carries staple items and hopefully beer. It will also have a deli menu, a couple of tables and bicycle delivery for limited areas. Of course all of this is subject to change. Keep your eyes open in 2010 for this little gem that just may fill a void that has been dogging downtown for a long time. Good luck!


More Art

Local artist and DK friend/art contributor, MB, has provided these images that I wanted to share with our readers. And by "provided" I mean that I sneaked photos of his artwork and posted them here without his permission. But really, he is responsible for our logo and shield design that is featured on the blog and we hope that he continues to support our drunken efforts. Hey, I know they aren't drink related but isn't there more to life than being drunk all the time. No? Ok. Thanks MB!


Wall St. a.k.a. Graffiti Alley

More wisdom from Knoxville's street artists. Or something. Maybe you can decipher what they mean in the comments...or not.


Stink-O Alert!

Stink-O! Stink-O! Stink-O! It’s time to get stink-o. Tonight, TND via bourbon at my place. This is a call to all DK contributors, past or present, to gather and drink until the drinkin’s done. W.L. Weller requests your presence and attentive liver around 8 pm. Supplies are limited so be prepared to bring more booze or shuffle onward to the bar for backup drinks. That is all.


Monday Hangover

Ugh. It’s been rough the past couple of weeks. Holidays, work, and illness have me down but not out. Only a few more weeks remain in 2009 and if I’m going to make any kind of “go” at enjoying this stressful time of year you can bet that I’m going to drink my way through it. Therefore any unsecured booze, beer and wine that I encounter will have to deal with my liver. Those half-drank bottles of bourbon and vodka at my place: gone by tomorrow (starting tonight). The upcoming company work party: I will perform the “hat trick”, perhaps get fired. House parties and friends’ gatherings: I will cadge your party booze! Plus there will be trips to the liquor store and brewery. I’ve been in a fugue of sobriety for too long and it must stop now.


Not certain if that's a proper word, but as a title for this post it's apt.

As a fitting end to DfV, I need to relate some hilarious circumstances that Mackey and I were privy to last evening. Now admittedly, DfV started strong but tapered off towards the last couple of days due to circumstances beyond our control. Shit happens. Fortunately we were able to make a suitable rally last night at The Hill.

The Hill, like many such places, has a challenge for patrons regarding its wing sauce. Nothing new there as I said, but last night was a real gem. Towards the higher end of the Scoville Scale, you will find a nasty little bastard called a Ghost Pepper. This vile nuke is beyond my taste buds, and I'm a hot sauce fanatic in general.

Anyhoo, we are enjoying a tasty meal, cold beverages, and in my case a large glass of delicious bourbon...the bar was not packed by any means, when some young folk at the bar decide to fuck up their evenings completely by participating in the challenge. To be brief, what started as a night of modest drinking ended in a gastro-holocaust for these two. One guy began in earnest, consuming three before breaking out in a sweat, drooling, and eventually puking in a hastily provided trash can. No amount of water, and later-milk- could help. The kitchen staff came out to scorn this well-meaning young man(read: laugh their asses off) before he put his head down in defeat. The kicker is that his friend looked upon this goddamn farce and decided "Hey, I want some of that." Set upon this course, he at least made it to the bathroom before puking all over the damn place. They went down faster than a cheap whore on check day.

Folks, these challenges...from large steaks, to hot sauce consumption...are invitations to defeat. Much like a casino, the house usually wins. These two defeated warriors slinked off with their friends to an evening filled with heartburn, hallucinations, and toilet paper usage. Even now I suspect they still have a 'lava tube' effect going on.

To sum up, these kids(clearly students) probably learned a lesson...and they'll remember that more than any exam or test during finals week. Welcome academic probation!



As in uptight German efficiency, but you know, with beers. Also, the Krauts* are big on revenge so it fits with the season. That's pretty much the end of the correlation though.

We pride ourselves on attaching useless numbers and values to our drinking. For example, we prefer to boat on a craft with a high BPH quotient. What's that? Why Beer-Per-Hour value of course. The performance of the boat itself is meaningless if you can't get drunk in a hurry and remain shitfaced for hours on end. A speedboat that may haul ass is thus useless if it cannot support enough cooler space for the thirsty passengers. Conversely, a lumbering cruiser is useless if it takes too long to get back to dock for more beer** even if it can otherwise maintain a large number of boozers for a set time. A few years back yours truly and venerated compatriot Sweet Tooth tried to knock back the little 8 oz bastards of High Life...thinking that they would get colder faster and not have the lukewarm dregs we all face towards the end of a longneck.

Big. Fucking. Mistake. We went through two full packs of those little bastards before taking the first turn out of the dock. Turn back around, try again. Conversely, drinking tall boys on the lake is also disrecommended. Takes too long, beer gets warm, and the BPH suffers accordingly...to say nothing of how dumb a koozie looks on them.

Back to the last night. We are, of course, mug club members from waaaaaay back. Drinking on Tuesdays at the Brewery is cheap and you get loaded on IPA pints. Add the four ounces extra from the mug and you are getting the best deal in town. That's the truth. You can roll out of there for right at ten bucks(tip them well though) and be quite polluted.

Beerficiency is not a mere matter of ounces though, timing is also key. Every sound drunkard should be aware of specials and where to get soused on the cheap. Turns out that Wednesdays at the Brewery are quite good as well. Two-dollar pints(same as happy hour) for club members. Still the best deal, but the added 50 cents*** reduces the beerficiency accordingly.

Also timing is key. A new club member these days will have to wait for the bartender to fetch their mug...depending on how new you are, that is akin to Herakle's labors. Whereas we old fucks have ours on the low rung and the employee can get it, fill it, and you drink it quick as Pan. Beerficiency is a tricky thing, so I encourage each reader here to ask: "Am I really making the best use of my time and drinking dollar?"

For purposes of this action, I'm not including drinking at home in this formula...sure it's cheap to drink a twelve pack, but that's not entirely the point. Ridicule is also a part of this science. You can tell your dog or cat at home that you are shitfaced on Southpaw and they won't care. Smugly reminding the aging trollop with the nine dollar appletini**** that she's needlessly wasting cash is something else entirely. Mockery and pettiness are driving factors here at DK.

* The ones driving Panzers, not the pussies of today
**Buying boat dock beer is for fucking idiots
***Be certain to point out the outrage of paying the extra 50 cents
****Appletinis suck beyond belief and therefore you for ordering one



I'm not talking about groping tit or nut to feel for the Big C. Nay, my concern is the dreaded and highly disturbing fear of empty glasses-Cenosillicaphobia. Sure there are larger and more complex issues for the beer-drinking body politic, but none more personal than this demon. While we drink with a vengeance, let us prosecute the war against this scourge.

Many times I get a feeling of unease as I gape at a rapidly depleted pint. Dear Lord, what if it goes dry soon? Where is the bartender? Am I expected to fill my own mug, thus confronting my worst nightmare? Awful.

When I first came to grips with my illness, I was just out of college. Before seeking gainful employment, I decided that during the interlude I would two-fist frequently. My mind recoiled in horror at the obvious problem belied by this otherwise noble effort. Should I sip both at the same time? Is it cheating to chug one and concentrate on the other? These rotten questions were pushed aside as the bottom came closer and closer...mocking me...blah, blah, blah.

Fortunately, upon the advice of charlatans and witch-doctors I discovered that the best way to end this crippling and debilitating fear by closing ones eyes and then gulp your way to metaphysical bliss. Speak proudly to the barmaid for another. Tell your asshole friend to get his shit to the kegerator. Stroll proudly into the store for more booze early in the morning. Don't judge me, retiree, I've got an illness and I'm out of beer. This is post-modern America after all, everyone's got some baggage like this.

I would propose a therapy group, but honestly I can't help any of you. Recommend instead you go to the Brewery tonight and let those $1.50 pints salve your battered soul. Explore your rich inner landscape and spear your inner demon right in the taint.


Drinking for Vengeance Preview

Ah yes, this is more like it...the mini-season DfV set squarely between Drinksgiving and Whiskey Season. Consumption at a brisk and unrelenting pace, wielding the heavy hand at local bars, and resulting in a great deal of pain the next morning.

A big word of thanks to Preservation Pub, Back Room BBQ, and Urban Bar. You saved our asses on Thanksgiving proper simply by opening your doors. My sour ass found refuge in your Lowenbraus, Newcastles, and Yuenglings. Mackey and the Royalty put on a clinic in Jager and Jamesons.

Most places close down so that their weary employees can enjoy the holiday with family and loved ones. These few joints buck the establishment and provide a necessary outlet for those of us that desperately need a ennui-killing mini pub crawl. Thanks folks, you came through in a pinch. So with that, let DfV begin...


Get off my land

Yes, I get it. It's Thanksgiving. Again. Year in and year out, I grit my teeth as acquaintances extol everything they are grateful for...usually listing their earthly possessions and worldly goods in a manner that's much more 'look what I've got' rather than sincere gratitude.

It's not limited to my religious friends either. Oh no, my atheist compadres also will bore me with a litany of shit. I'm sure God enjoys the irony of both groups being quite like the other in this regard.

I'm quite aware that being a 30-something means I still don't know shit. I'm dumb like an extinct species. What I can tell you is that I learned from a precious few good people what to be thankful for. Surviving Normandy or Hue. Pulling through a nasty life-threatening illness. Eating some meat when you've had more than a year or two of beans and garden grown potatoes. Having a roof over your head that's not a canvas or built to house hundreds. Nearly all of these things I learned from my paternal grandfather, a man in every sense of the word...a man whose shoes I wasn't fit to shine(largely because I've always had shoes). The economy may suck ass, but pick up a history book and look back a few decades if you want to see real Goddamn monetary distress in the world.

I'm thankful on Turkey Day for the things I'm thankful for 24/7/365. I encourage everyone to go into a private room and recount what makes you feel grateful. It's just as valid in the dark as when you drop leaflets from your warplanes.

I'll buy a beer for someone who just tells me, flat out, that this Thanksgiving they are thankful for beer, bird, and football*. This is one American who won't find you a shallow prick. You're being more honest than most. I refer to this holiday and the days around it as Drinksgiving, but I'm not going to tell every asshole I see about it in obnoxious detail and for that good readers-- give earnest thanks. Because, I really don't know shit.

* in fucking hi-def of course


Off Topic – Comcast Sucks II

A while ago I expressed my dissatisfaction with Comcast. Late this summer as football season approached I reluctantly signed up for internet and cable TV service. During the three months I’ve been back with them I have had at least three HBO outages (they cut me off), zero correct bills and woeful customer service. I should disclose that internet service has been good, so that’s nice. The worst part though is dealing with inadequate customer service. It isn’t the rep’s fault, the organization keeps a pool of phone jockeys to deal with routine technical and billing issues, then keeps the customer at arm’s length when it comes to more complicated problems. It’s similar to the phone-hell switch board process you go through just trying to reach a live person. Once you get through you have to explain every detail only to be told that a supervisor will have to be advised of the problem and they will work on it. Bullshit. Once I did speak with a supervisor and was promised a follow up call about my issue but I never got the call. The latest billing error doubled my monthly bill and the rep told me there was a note in my record stating that a supervisor had been contacted to authorize the correction but guess what, the supervisor never made the authorization. I have no doubt that I’m on their “black list” of people to fuck with. Die Comcast, just die.




The second annual drunk breakfast is in the books. We drank a lot of Irish coffees, a significant number of bloody Marys, vodka/juices, good beer and later just straight whiskey. We also had plenty to eat - biscuits and gravy, sausage links, eggs, hash browns to begin, and then a robust round of pancakes before decadent eggs Benedict completed breakfast. Overall things went a little too close to plan, not something we normally expect when we put together these types of gatherings. Next up: Deep Fried Feast.


Before and After

What a good night. Mellow Gold-esque. Leading into our 2nd annual drunken breakfast feast I have been priming my liver for what will be a full onslaught of boozing and bad behavior. Never far from peak performance it doesn't take much to get in form, but I figured that I better not leave anything to chance, else my aged body turn against me, so I went downtown to the brewery last night for a taste of Irish whiskey. I had just a single shot along with a few beers after I sampled a sub sandwich from their newish late night menu, and everything was perfect. Never one to quit when I'm ahead I decided to walk over to Preservation Pub for a couple more drafts. Just a few, nothing more, and it turned out to be a nice, mellow night. Enough so that I slept in longer than expected and required some high-octane java to get me going. I decided to try Remedy in the Old City for a cup o'joe and it did the trick. DBII will not offer this sober option of coffee. Bring on the Jameson.


Loose Ends

I finally got around to cleaning my kegerator last week with the help of our brewer friend. He provided the powerful caustic and cleaning tank that we used to sweep the lines in a matter of minutes, which is easier than doing it with a home cleaning kit. In addition to that we switched my puny, factory-provided regulator to a used, bigger regulator that I hope will help with some foamy pouring issues. I’ll know once I actually refill the keg and try it out, hopefully in a day or two in time for Drunken Breakfast II.

Speaking of, DBII is scheduled this week for another gathering of early morning cocktails and gluttonous food consumption. About half a dozen friends will meet at 8:00 a.m. to start the day, except instead of productive work there will be productive boozing. Bloody Marys, Irish Coffee, Screw Drivers, beer and wine top the list of drinks/cocktails; biscuits and gravy, pancakes, hash browns and various meats and eggs are on the food menu. The neighbors may have reason for concern. We’ll try to give an accurate recount of the event if possible.


What's the difference?

What's the difference between us and them?

Because we drink here!

UPDATE: SKM, you mean this guy?


Cash Only

A big peeve of mine at the bars these days is the bastard practice of pre-authorization of credit cards for a set sum in advance of the tab. Most banking institutions will count this as a pending charge on your account, and heaven only knows what rotten practice each individual credit card company will pursue. In short, long after you have left the bar you still feel like you haven't paid. Days after the final beer, last call, and the hangover you haven't yet finished the ordeal. I realize this practice is not new, nor is it illegal or unethical. You are after all, making a decision on where to drink and part of that process is the style of management said bar utilizes. However, just because a bar has a legal leg to stand on doesn't make it "cool."

It's not unusual for a bar to hold a card for the tab, I grant that. Even fine with it, although my regular bars would get crucified if they asked me for a card. The truth is that some places get ripped off on a frequent basis and creativity with opening and closing a tab can keep the place in the black and won't make the employees unhappy. We as patrons deserve some of the blame for running out on tabs, miserly tipping, drawing arrogant birds on the receipt, etc. However, if I give a card and then opt to pay cash when leaving-that should be the end of it. Instead I've got an uncomfortable hand in my wallet for a few days even after I should be in the clear. Two places that I visit on a semi-regular basis have this misguided policy.

What relevance does the photo have with the post? Absolutely none, but I've wanted to use it for some time and have zero idea how to work it in to a usual topic. Maybe some loose connection to the Governor of Colliefornia and their credit/cash woes? Whatever.

I thought about whether or not to post this...complaint is the term, since the offenders are two bars that we have reviewed positively. I'll not identify them since I really enjoy both establishments and realize I am coming off as a nitpicky bastard. Just airing a grievance in advance of Festivus. Looks like I'll be taking a Adam Jones-ish wad of cash* and make it rain after each beer.

*No more than 20 US dollars


You say it's your birthday

Happy Birthday to a great drunkard. The foggy memories of when you trashed this town in a constant debauch remain firmly entrenched in downtown Knoxville lore. Your trail of tears will not be forgotten.


Dry Keg

I love my kegerator. The only way it could be better is if it were magical and refilled itself. It would also be nice if it cleaned itself too but that’s just being unrealistic. As things go my keg is currently empty and the lines need to be cleaned, so I have some tasks to do. Refilling is easy, the cleaning requires a bit more labor. In the mean time I have taken the opportunity to try a few craft beers.
I’ve sampled the Stone IPA more than a few times and love it as a substitute for my usual Woodruff IPA. The Lobster Lovers was new to me and strong, coming in at 9.5%. I had this the other night after a few pints downtown and woke up on my meast-like couch in the early morning wondering what the hell happened. Like a lot of high alcohol beers I’ve tried, the taste can be overpowering if not outright bad. I really didn’t care for the flavor but that didn’t stop me from drinking every drop of it. However, I would not recommend this beer. Perhaps that’s why the Werewolf is still sitting in my fridge. I’m not afraid to try it but I’m not in a hurry to chug it down either. Time to pony up for a new keg and get busy cleaning my kegerator.


Wet & Sloppy BJ

Heh heh heh. Oh I amuse myself with the most juvenile of things. Yes, this is about the Brewer's Jam and the weather that vexed it, you dirty rakes.

The Good:

-A decent crowd, unfazed by the relatively rotten weather. Indeed, some of the women-folk prospered with raingear sitting in their closets for God knows how long. Innovative and adaptive.

-The usual suspects of the regional brewing world, a Who's-Who if you will. Highland, Foothills, Catawaba among others. The Kashmir IPA from Highland ranked very high with yours truly.

-Plentiful and inexpensive merchandise. Kick-ass shirts for the most part, although pint glasses and other glassware were available at many tents.

- Several roaring cheers and toasts from approximately 5:15 to 5:45. Spontaneous and comradely. Easily this authors favorite moment of the day.

The Bad:

-Continued denial from the powers-that-be regarding the football schedule. Face it, UT football runs this town in the fall. There was an open date the weekend prior with better weather coincidentally. I forsee this being an issue in years to come with the rank-and-file target audience of these events.

-Food vendors were far less numerous this year. In basically what amounts to "Beerfest" you need more food for attendees, not less.

The Ugly:

Jesus Christ. Bad, bad idea. Some older women had gathered around these abandoned flops and prevented any attempt to break them loose. They may have been shit-faced. I certainly was.


Brewers Jam Pics

A few pictures from Brewers Jam:


Brewers Jam Eve

Twas the night before Brewers Jam, when all through the town
Not a drunkard was sad, not even a frown
The tickets were purchased in advance and with care
There would be no tickets had next day at the fair

The brewers had arrived and checked in their rooms
Staying downtown they’d soon party like loons
The hosts were preparing for guests far and near
A welcoming dinner of good food and beer

This day had been rainy, cloudy, grey and plain dreary
But none of this mattered, brewers always seem cheery
“To hell with the weather”, you’d imagine they’d say
Neither hell nor high water will ruin this day

Be it blizzard, tornado, or 100 degrees
The party would go on with relative ease
When what to my parched mouth and achy liver should appear
A friend with a growler of hand crafted beer!

I grinned wide, shouted “hey”, then quicker than Pan
A fresh, delicious beer was thrust in my hand
I thanked my good pal for offering the favor
Then put drink to mouth and cherished the flavor

A pale ale, a brown ale, a bock and a stout
How many more until we run out?
More brewers arrived with tales of tall measure
Things were just getting started on this evening of pleasure

More pilsner, alt, porter – we appear to be fine
And last it arrived, the famous barley wine
I’d had it before and I must confess
The results of imbibing were not much success

Don’t drink it too fast, don’t be in a rush
Your body will warm and cheeks will soon blush
A wonderful sensation as it flows with each taste
Careful not to spill - too precious to waste!

My eyes turned to slits, my vision was hazy
For some damn reason my legs became lazy
The room was swimming ‘round and my body was reeling
This is how I remember the barley wine feeling

But this could not end, the night was still early
I had to find relief and so I did hurry
A good meal of food, now that will do the trick
I filled up a plate and ate it down quick

Regaining a feeling of sensible content
Back to the tap for more beer I went
Easy this time, I didn’t over-do it
If you believe that, then you’re a half-wit

The brewers’ gathering became a comfortable uproar
Beer, friends and family, who could want more
The hosts had provided another hell of a party
Enough that a few, tomorrow, would be tardy

But this night was only for the selected few
Who make it their job and passion to brew
If you weren’t invited there’s no reason for sorrow
There’s plenty of beer to be had tomorrow

So get there on time, bring a chair and your liver
It’s a charity fund raiser, so you’ll be a giver
No need to practice by drinking urine of a ram
See you Saturday at the Brewers Jam



There is much to appreciate about the 'good old days'

Note with the genteel black and white advertisement and overall folksy kitsch one could almost think that the 60's were a fine time to be alive. Let's all drink some Schlitz and the one, solitary beer that Anheuser Busch produces-Budweiser.


With the modern marvels of a greedy NFL and HDTV we actually see what we young turks were missing:

Oof. This? Look I realize that TV coverage in those days was still in black and white...but my God, did the teams of yesteryear just assume that the actual spectators were blind as well? A pox on the Broncos. Give me standard definition and a small screen, please.


Brewers Jam - SOLD OUT

As the title says, the 2009 Brewers Jam has sold out of tickets. For those of you who were planning to go but did not get your tickets in time I don’t know if you have any options. I have mixed feelings about the sellout. On one hand I’m happy they reached their goal of ticket sales and the fact that beer lines will be shorter, move faster, etc. On the other hand I was hoping the event would expand rather than contract, sort of the “more the merrier” argument, but the brewers and promoters didn’t want this and obviously have it their way. I can understand the arguments about crowd control and limiting alcohol consumption – it is a beer “tasting” not drinking competition (a la Beerfest) but why not spread out to both lawns at World’s Fair Park to have more room and monitor the beer distribution the same as always? A 4-ounce tasting glass only goes so far you know. There is probably a good reason that I'm not in charge of events like this.


Cold Monday Hangover

Brrrrr – I knew the weather was turning cold but that was pretty damn fast! I scraped the first of many frosted windshields this morning, so that was good to get out of the way. Er, whatever. Let’s officially say whiskey season is here. Friday night I ventured to Barley’s in the Old City to catch the Richard Lloyd concert I read about in Metro Pulse and heard on WUTK 90.3 that afternoon. I’m glad I decided to go because not only was it a great performance but I ran into a couple of friends I haven’t seen in a while and had a good time catching up with them. A few beers and couple of Maker’s Mark whiskeys helped things along nicely. On a side note, not that I recommend the practice, I happened to notice a lady doing the old “pour your own airplane drinks in cola” routine that amused me for some reason. Hey, times are tough out there.

Friday’s whiskey consumption was nothing compared to that on Saturday at OCI on the strip. I met the group for an “entertaining” affair of food, drink and belated birthday celebration that wound up as it usually does – drunken, obnoxious public behavior. Very surprisingly we toned down the profanity and f-bombs when some families with minors showed up, but not completely of course. I don’t blame the $3 big gulps of beer as much as I do the countless shots of Jameson’s, Maker’s and other various shots. Plus no group outing would be complete without pointless arguing, drama and dangerous face plants (not me this time!). I hope everyone has recovered adequately enough to return to work this week.

Sunday was a day of recovery as it often is. Football and couches go together so well. I managed to keep my beer intake under 5-6 pints and ended a very tranquil day with a fine pork sandwich with slaw from Dead End BBQ (updated website). This is the first time I’ve had their sandwich and the slaw contains bleu cheese that sends the taste off the charts, at least IMHO. It was exquisite!

Oh, did you think I’d forget to add these?

Yeah, it's droat season.


Welcome Back

I love the cool temperatures that come with fall weather. They bring a nice relief from the scorching heat of summer (granted, mild this year) and aren’t as harsh as the bitter cold that comes with Old Man Winter. Foliage transforms to breathtaking scenic views. Football games become even more enjoyable. Delicious beer gives way for tastes of wine and whiskey. And women somehow manage to express their beauty by adding more clothing. Weird, I know. It’s that time of year again . . .





Swess Season!!

I've already noticed several out and about with the cool weather today and suppose they're here for oh, another 4-6 months. Guess we all know what else is on the way.

(to be continued)