Not exactly booze: Fuck soft-rock, at least Disco had rhythm!

There is a nice grocery store up the street from me that recently opened a cafe. I couldn't bring myself to yelp the following, so I'm posting it here:

I stopped into the cafe for a lovely mint tea, but made the massive mistake of forgetting my headphones (yes, yes, rookie mistake). The soundtrack was like being transported to the passenger seat of my mother's car circa 1997! I can just about hang with the country music -- we all love cold beer and miss our dead dogs --  but I'm going home to play Madden instead of waiting for whatever soft-rock crooner to get her heart unbroken, or at least until Celine's career sinks as deep as the ship has. 

Ugh. Drinking less makes me nicer; which makes me sad.

Bar Crime Rampant in Northern Chicago

The iconic Hopleaf bar in Chicago just had the pipes stolen out of the walls of their long-awaited and desperately needed expansion space. OUT OF THE WALLS. You go to all the trouble of breaking into a building adjacent to a bar, and you... steal pipes? Cut through the damn wall and steal some booze! I'm sure insurance will cover it, but I've been going there even extra to try and help.

More adventurous thieves recently stole an historic non-functioning prohibition era cash register from a bar on a busy Saturday night. That must have been one pregnant looking fat-dude waddling out of the bar with 30# of metal under his Cubs jersey. Fat and drunk Cubs fan? What a cover!

Disco beers

I got my new badge. Straight up top quintile of homebrew-judges. Sure, it is just homebrew, so we find nasty flavors and write out long scoresheets. Not as idyllic as picking the best beer in a pro-comp.

Now, where's my gun?

Where have we been? Richard Dicks has been laying pipe. Lots and lots of pipe. He sends me pictures sometimes, and the gaping holes he leaves. The missus is pissed.

bJames has been blogging about more domestic pursuits and playing it tight and deep at the base of the shaft neck.

I've been dealing with substances measured in grains, not grams. I am generally feeling better.

But the industry isn't getting any better. And I'm still pissed off at the encroachment of foul and foreign flavors into beer. Bigger, oakier, and less wine-like didn't help the US wine industry, and it won't help here. If you want your beer to taste more like kiwi than beer, go get a Mike's you stupid fucking Trixie. Like most viruses, the Chicago craft 'beer' scene is expanding exponentially. With the exception of Mosher's new startup, I'm skeptical of anyone putting flavorings first. We could use more pop makers, just cut the alcohol and pretense of making beer-- I'll drink the shit out of a $4 cocoa-nib rasberry and lime soda. I'll even buy it on draft. But maybe don't call it beer.*

A friend is opening a brewery, I sent him some motto suggestions. Here is my favorite rejected one:

Beer that doesn't taste like flavored condoms

*I wish all those guys well. Really. I'm glad to see people getting their homebrew out there. Maybe the market is foul. Disco sucked too, but it fed a real market need.

N.B. My views do not represent any organization unfortunate enough to have me as a member.