Saturday, February 5, 2011

Beer Made Me Smart(er)

I frequently am referred to as the Smartest Man in the Room. This isn't a title I gave myself, but one that others bestowed upon me, one that I freely accept and frequently prove the validity of. (Yes, the Smartest Man in the Room CAN end a sentence with a preposition!) The Smartest Man in the Room isn't necessarily someone with Einstein or Sagan or Hawking level understanding of complex concepts. The Smartest Man in the Room is the one in the room who, when faced with a problem or challenge, is able to iterate the simplest and most logical solution to the problem. When several people are sitting around, trying to fix a computer glitch or change a flat tire, the Smartest Man in the Room is the one who plugs the computer in or find the jack in the trunk. Sometimes we are called upon to do things that are slightly more complex or pull a piece of trivia or knowledge out of the ether, but we always step up to the task.

It should be noted that a large part of my moniker of being the Smartest Man in the Room stems not from any sort of advanced knowledge or problem solving skills, but from Vocal Mastery. I'm blessed with a loud voice. I sound like I'm yelling when I'm not yelling. And when I DO yell, the heavens quiver. I also have the ability to fire off comments with the perfect mix of snide arrogance, derisive angst, and exasperation at the stupidity of others. It's a finely-honed technique, and it's so crippling to the weak-minded that even when I'm wrong, you'll think I'm right. I'm a master debater and cunning linguist, and stubborn as a beaver. (Okay, I think the metaphor is 'badger,' not 'beaver,' but I needed a simile that evoked a similar sexual entendre.) It also helps that I've gotten really good at quickly looking things up on the Internet.

That is one HAWT badger!
Thus, I am the Smartest Man in the Room. 

But being the SMiR can be debilitating. See, when one already knows everything, one's ability to learn is diminished. And because the damn world keeps changing and evolving, one will occasionally encounter a gap in one's knowledge that has an adverse effect on one's life. 

I'll give you an example of what I'm talking about.

About I year ago, I was introduced to the world of Craft Brew Beers. It's like micro-brew, but even more specialized. The beer is aged in different types of barrels and they add all sorts of silly flavors to it. It's not unlike what happened to coffee in the 90s, although instead of a shot of Italian Flavoring, the beer needs to age in whatever ridiculous container it's in, so the process does show a little bit more commitment. We have our very own on-the-rise craft brewing company here in SoCal, and a childhood friend who lives in the Midwest has demanded that I attend all sorts of various beer tasting events and parties so that he may live vicariously through me. I'm like his Proxy High Class Alcoholic.

I'll freely admit, most of the beers are bloody awful. Some of them are like cough syrup, some are like bathroom potpourri, and there are a couple that taste like warmed-over ass. My BeerPimp assures me that these flavors are what the aficionados of Craft Beers love and appreciate, but I disagree. I'd rather vomit from drinking too much beer than vomit after the first taste of some god-awful concoction.

That's not to say all the beers fall into this category of epic awfulness. One of the advantages of being a Craft Brewer is the sheer variety of options you can generate. And I've found a trio of beers from this brewery (cleverly named The Bruery) that have expanded my beer enjoyment beyond my once limited pallet of Guinness and Moose Drool. 





Rugbrod is easily acquired at many places here in the SoCal area. Mischief isn't quite as common, but one can get bottles of it if one knows where to look. 7 Grain Saison is a different beast, and that's where we come back to the whole Danger of Being the Smartest Man in the Room problem.

7 Grain Saison is available as a draft only beer. That is to say, one can NOT get a bottle of it and take home to drink while watching a tear-inducing man flick like Braveheart or the South Park Movie (seriously, it gets me every time).

"Goodbye you guys!" (SOB!)
No, one must venture out into the world and find a bar or pub that actually serves the 7 Grain. And even if one is a resourceful smartest man in the room, it can be something of a feat to find a bar that carries such goodness. For months, my 7 Grain consumption was limited to the occasional beer tasting event. I couldn't have a bottle of my very own. I couldn't share it with my friends. I couldn't use it as yet another tool in my arsenal of weening my girlfriend off of fruity chick drinks.  My life was a mire of incomplete, and I walked through the world, a hollow shell of a human being.

Until I was introduced to the Growler.

I'd seen the word thrown around various tastings and parties. I even ALMOST once inquired about what a Growler was when I saw it on the menu at said Bruery. But, Because I was the smartest man in the room, I'd simply assumed it was an over-sized glass reserved for the uber-alcoholics or the Craft Beer secret handshake society. After all, I had nothing else to learn.

Turns out, a Growler is an oversized resealable jug, designed for filling with one's beer of choice to take away from a Craft Brew tasting room to enjoy at one's leisure.

Read that again. And then I freely accept any laughing and pointing that you wish to partake in.


A GODDAMN BOTTLE FOR TAKE-OUT BEER? REALLY? I've been wandering this Earth like some beer-deprived nomad for months, chasing that Holy Grail Chimera of 7 Grain that I can carry with me throughout my adventures, and it was available the whole damn time in the form of an easily acquired Growler? I was a hair's-breadth away from selling my soul to the Beer Devil for a taste of this goodness in my own home, and all it takes is $15 for what's known as a Growler Fill. They even make what's called a Growler cover - a nifty thermal lined bag for carrying your filled Growler hither and yon. Why the hell didn't any of you tell me about this earlier?



So there you go. I learned something new. And it's all thanks to beer.

NOW I'm the Smartest Man in the Room. 

No comments:

Post a Comment