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justforbooks · 2 years

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Eamonn McCabe, who has died suddenly aged 74, was a photographer, photo editor, educator and broadcaster, and served as the Guardian’s picture editor for 13 years. And when he wasn’t shooting, editing or talking about images, he was collecting awards for doing so. His work won him picture editor of the year an unprecedented six times and sports photographer of the year four times, creating groundbreaking photographs for the Observer. From his early pictures, such as one of a table tennis player with a very high throw, or an image of Björn Borg’s gimlet eyes on a tennis ball, it was recognised that Eamonn, like Borg, had his own way of perceiving the world. He was bringing something different to sports photography and his trophy cupboard started to fill.

In 1985 he won news photographer of the year for his photographs of the Heysel stadium disaster in Brussels. He was there to cover a football match, but sport was forgotten when the tragic events unfolded. He said that witnessing this horror had a lasting effect on him and perhaps hastened his departure from sports photography. “I went as a sports photographer, thrilled to be covering Juventus against Liverpool, and ended up a news photographer, as the whole thing turned into a terrifying disaster in which 39 supporters were killed … I never processed the films from the game itself. They didn’t seem to be very important.”

Editing pictures became the route out of weekly witnessing English football at its worst, and in 1988 Eamonn was recruited as picture editor of the Guardian by its then editor, Peter Preston, to help the paper see off the new Independent with its well-printed photography. Eamonn’s unique way of seeing and framing the world worked as well behind a desk as behind his cameras. He understood how a news or feature photograph is used and cropped is often as important as its content.

Eamonn was born in Highgate, north London. His father, James McCabe, was a taxi driver and his mother, Celia (nee Henchy), a hotel receptionist. They went on to open a hotel in Manor House opposite Finsbury Park. The young Eamonn grew up among the same postwar streets as another photography great, Don McCullin. At Challoner school in Finchley, it seems he spent most of the time playing football and boxing – he left school with just a couple of O-levels. He started work in a solicitor’s office, then in the accounts department of a brewery, but ledgers and spreadsheets were not for him and he got a job as a junior in an advertising agency. A previous incumbent of his lowly position had been David Bowie.

After a couple of years he got the travel bug, left the ad agency and headed to the capital of flower power in the 60s, San Francisco. He enrolled for a film-making course, but discovered a love for stills photography rather than movies. Eventually he had to leave – with the visa he held, he was in danger of being sent to Vietnam. But first he had a Rolling Stones gig to go to: “Mick Jagger laid on a free Stones concert on 6 December 1969 at the Altamont Speedway, northern California. Three hundred thousand people turned up. I had my cameras and pushed my way upfront to the tiny stage that had been hastily produced. By most accounts, the Hells Angels were hired as security for $500 worth of beer. If Woodstock was the dream, Altamont was the nightmare – the stage was much too low and the Angels didn’t like the sight of nudity and weighed into the crowd with snooker cues. A big guy next to me got the worst of it and I just ran. You don’t argue with the Angels high on beer.”

Returning to the UK, he worked in the photo unit of Imperial College, followed by a job with the London Photo Agency (LPA). He worked in the darkrooms and took pictures at rock concerts. This was a far more exciting world for a 23-year-old. Eamonn said: “The Rolling Stones, the Who, the Beach Boys – they were our heroes. Theirs was the music we listened to anyway ... there was a rawness about them that made good pictures.”

However, in the LPA building, there was another picture agency, Sporting Pictures, where Eamonn got some shifts shooting football matches. He had always been keen on sport, specifically football, and he was a lifelong Tottenham Hotspur fan. Like many sports photographers, if he hadn’t been sent to an event to take pictures, he might well have been there as a fan.

In 1974 Eamonn decided to set up his own picture agency in north London – working for the local papers in the area, but crucially shooting all the home matches of the north London rivals Spurs and Arsenal. He distributed pictures to the national papers. Within a couple of years he landed a contract with the Observer. The paper allowed and encouraged him to develop a style – what became known as “an Eamonn McCabe picture” – a different angle, perhaps away from the peak of the action; a detail; something graphic; a strong use of black and white; a touch of humour. The Guardian’s sports photographer Tom Jenkins said: “Formal shape and a whimsical sense of humour played a large part in McCabe’s sports work, like his picture of the bald Bristol City goalkeeper John Shaw looking like he was about to boot his own head into the centre-circle. Eamonn was always on the lookout for something different.”

According to Jenkins, a picture of the boxer Sylvester Mittee wrapping his hands with bandages before a training session is a prime example of this: “A close-up moment that probably no other photographer at the time would have bothered with.” Eamonn himself explained the choice of lens: “I grabbed a 180mm lens, quite long for indoor work, but it paid off. The effect was to throw everything out of focus except the bandaging and texture of his fingers.”

He documented just about every sport and covered three Olympic Games. And he photographed the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer – as a sports photographer he was able to capture the kiss on the palace balcony with his long cricket lens.

The peerless sports journalist Hugh McIlvanney wrote of being Eamonn’s colleague at the Observer in a foreword to his first book, Sports Photographer (1982): “Working with Eamonn McCabe can be hazardous to a reporter’s ego. His photographs often convey the essence of an event or a performer with such dramatic succinctness that the writer assigned to the same job is left with the feeling of having turned in a 1,500-word caption.”

As well as shooting sport, Eamonn also played for an amateur team, the Nine Elms Dynamos: “One morning, when we were getting a real spanking,” he wrote, “a long-haired centre forward scored yet another goal and ran back past me as I was lying face down in the mud: ‘You didn’t get a picture of that one, did you?’”

After Heysel, Eamonn was offered his first picture-editing job, on a new magazine, Sportsweek. It seemed a perfect journal for the move from shooting to editing photography. Unfortunately, the proprietor was Robert Maxwell. It was a good product with great photography, edited by Eamonn, but it lost money and Maxwell soon tired of the losses. The Guardian needed a new picture editor. Perhaps an award-winning sports photographer with very little editing experience might not have been everyone’s choice, but Preston knew it could work.

Paul Johnson, until recently deputy editor of the Guardian, said that Eamonn “transformed the look and feel of the newspaper almost overnight. Some senior colleagues felt the photographs were just too big and were squeezing out words, until gently reminded, with a smile, that no reader had ever complained about the lack of words in the Guardian (the wrong words, yes, all the time, but not lack of them).”

Eamonn recruited new photographers and ensured that photography was not an afterthought. He got his picture choice printed on 20in x 16in paper by the Guardian darkroom and argued hard for his selection in news meetings. Johnson said: “Eamonn had a compelling visual literacy but also warmth and charisma. People loved working for him, people loved working with him.”

Eamonn was in his element as the Guardian covered the big news events that seemed to come with increasing frequency at the time – the downing of the Pan Am plane over Lockerbie, the Clapham rail crash, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the death of Diana, Princess of Wales.

In 2001 Eamonn decided to “go back on the road”. He had a need to create his own images. He stayed on at the Guardian, but this time shooting something a bit quieter: portraits. He photographed many notable people, from Tony Blair to Iris Murdoch, Lou Reed to Desmond Tutu. The Guardian feature writer Simon Hattenstone said: “Eamonn was astonishingly quick, he never panicked, and he was fantastically unobtrusive. Often the photo was done before the subjects had time to smile or stiffen up.” He favoured a direct approach with his portraits. He liked his subjects to confront his camera and, by extension, the viewer.

Many of these photographs are in the National Portrait Gallery collection. He also photographed artists and their studios for the Guardian and the Royal Academy magazine, including Frank Auerbach, Grayson Perry, Bridget Riley, Howard Hodgkin and Maggi Hambling.

Eamonn was keen to pass on his knowledge and inspire others. A steady stream of hopefuls brought portfolios to his desk, where he dispensed advice and encouragement. His educational work extended to TV programmes such as Britain in Focus (2017) for the BBC. He was often chosen by the broadcast media as a photo pundit – he was recently interviewed about imagery of Queen Elizabeth – and his relaxed manner and thorough knowledge made him a natural on TV or radio. He published six books – the last one, on aerial photography, demonstrates the breadth of his photographic knowledge.

As well as honorary professorships at Thames Valley (Preston responded to the appointment by nicknaming him “Prof”) and Staffordshire universities, Eamonn was visiting senior fellow in photography at the University of Suffolk and held an honorary doctorate from the University of East Anglia.

He moved to Suffolk a few years ago and immediately got involved with photography in the county. He taught at the university in Ipswich and when PhotoEast – the Ipswich-based photo festival – was founded, Eamonn was asked if he would become the patron. He agreed without question.

Eamonn was always a dapper dresser and, once he had left his sports photographer’s waterproofs behind, his tweed coat and jaunty hats looked the part in the small town of Saxmundham where he lived. Although he was a Londoner who enjoyed the pubs, jazz clubs and art galleries of the city, life in the country gave him land- and seascapes to photograph and a vegetable garden to tend. He swapped soccer for golf – he played a round two days before he died.

On hearing the news of his death, Eamonn’s erstwhile neighbour McCullin said: “McCabe was like all great photographers – he never stopped working. Like most of us, his life was photography.” The answer to which is one of Eamonn’s favourite sayings, “It’s better than working, Rog”.

In July 1997 Eamonn asked Rebecca Smithers, a Guardian journalist, to marry him while they were on a press trip to New York – they were married at City Hall a couple of days later. He is survived by Rebecca and their daughter, Mabel; by Ben, his son from a previous marriage, to Ruth Calvert, that ended in divorce; and by Marian, his sister.

Alan Rusbridger writes: The email from Eamonn McCabe popped into my inbox just after breakfast one day in the spring of 2009. “What is it with X [here was the name of an internationally acclaimed fashion photographer whose work had been featured in that day’s Guardian]? I don’t get it. That photograph (?) of Y [here was the name of the subject in the offending portrait] has to be one of the worst we have ever printed ... I spent years trying to get that sort of crap out of the pages. What next, handshakes and big cheques?”

I revisited the image this week. It was, indeed, sensationally bad – poorly lit, awkward shadows, overexposed, lazily composed, clumsily cropped and barely in focus.

I don’t think Eamonn was bitter about the prices his fellow lensman could command (upwards of £40k for a plate). More likely, he felt puzzled – and, on behalf of press photographers the world over, a bit insulted. As a former picture editor, he knew that a dozen or more staff or freelance photographers – none of them remotely household names – would have come up with a better photograph given five minutes and a bare wall.

Eamonn was a press photographer to his fingertips. As a sports photographer on the Observer, he had lightning reactions and an instinctive eye for composition. Even if you didn’t know the name, you’d recognise many of the iconic images from his years on the touchline.

The former Times writer, Simon Barnes, wrote of his images: “People in sports journalism talk about an ‘Eamonn McCabe shot’ even when McCabe did not take the picture. They are talking about a style, a vision, a way of looking at sport.”

It was an inspired move when my predecessor as editor of the Guardian, Peter Preston, hired Eamonn to be picture editor in 1988 – the time of a crucial redesign. The paper had always employed distinguished staff photographers, but they were often let down by the quality of printing and by lacklustre design. Eamonn did, indeed, ban the “crap” – especially the cliched picture that told you nothing. He favoured the bold, the unexpected – images that not only caught your eye but lingered in the mind. He was encouraging to young photographers; always approachable … and always up for a pint or two at the end of his shift.

He was a late convert to the power of colour – once railing against the distracting glare of hi-vis jackets in an image of rescue workers at a train crash. But, in time, he came to accept the inevitable.

And then, remarkably, he had a third career (via a flirtation with landscape) as a portrait photographer, usually illustrating the culture pages’ profile of distinguished writers, artists and musicians. Unlike some internationally acclaimed photographers he could mention, he might only be given a few minutes and inadequate light in which to bag his shot. Nine times out of 10 he memorably and sensitively captured his subject.

It’s difficult to think of a comparable figure in photography – one who successfully crossed genres and who also had a spell generously editing the work of his peers. He was also one of the warmest and most collaborative figures in Fleet Street.

“Journalists are far too bashful to refer to any of their newspaper work as ‘art’,” wrote Barnes in an introduction to Eamonn’s work in 1987. Hence, perhaps, Eamonn’s snort of derision for the picture in the Guardian back in 2009. But Eamonn was truly a kind of artist, as well as an unpretentious pressman. He was a very rare thing.

🔔 Eamonn McCabe, photographer, born 28 July 1948; died 2 October 2022

📷 Photo above: Eamonn McCabe looking at his negatives in the press room during the 1988 British Open Golf Championships in Lytham St Annes.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Eamonn McCabe #in memoriam

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hidingupmysleeve · 2 years

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White Mountain National Forest, Lincoln, NH

A few weeks ago my boyfriend and I went on a roadtrip to New England to hike in the White Mountains. This was the first time I’ve ever been to New Hampshire and it did not disappoint. We did so much in the time we were there:

Visited New River Gorge

Drove up to Mount Washington

Hiked Artists’ Bluff trail

Hiked Mount Pierce (4000ft of elevation gain)

Explored Lincoln and Woodstock: breweries, restaurants, coffee shops, etc

Stumbled upon a cute town called Littleton and explored their main downtown area and farmer’s market

Overnight camped (for my first time!) at a campsite and made s’mores with a bonfire

Overall just such a fun trip and feeling super grateful for the beautiful weather and that I get to travel with my adventure buddy.

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nwbeerguide · 26 days

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With partial proceeds going toward the Special Olympics Double Mountain Brewery & Cidery announces sponsorship of this year's Mt. Hood Meadows Pond Skim Event.

Press Release image courtesy Double Mountain Brewery & Cidery Double Mountain will act as the new sponsors of the upcoming Double Mountain Pond Skim at Mt. Hood Meadows on Saturday, May 4, 2024. This exciting partnership will see Double Mountain bringing its quirky flair to one of Mount Hood’s most beloved springtime traditions. From 8am to 4pm, snowboarders and skiers aged 15 and older will gather on Mount Hood to showcase their skills by skimming across 100 feet of chilly water, vying for fantastic prizes and crowd cheers. “We’re honored to support such a fun and thrilling event,” said Matt Swihart, owner and brewmaster of Double Mountain Brewery & Cidery, who will also serve as the Master of Ceremonies for Double Mountain Pond Skim, alongside Mt. Hood Meadows GM, Greg Pack. Prizes will be awarded for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place, as well as for the best splash, best costume, and best overall impression. Competitors are encouraged to exercise creativity in their costumes while keeping them family-friendly. Registration includes a commemorative towel and a complimentary pint for participants aged 21 and older. Additionally, $10 from each entry fee will be donated to the Special Olympics of Oregon. Spectators are invited to gather in the base area to witness the excitement as costumed competitors attempt to conquer the water-filled challenge. The event will be complemented by music from DJ Kyle, adding to the festive atmosphere from 11am to 4pm. The Special Olympics of Oregon (SOOR) Polar Pond Plunge will immediately follow the awards ceremony for Double Mountain Pond Skim. SOOR representatives will be on hand to register participants who want to take a plunge through the pond - all proceeds benefit Special Olympics. … Join Double Mountain Brewery & Cidery and Mt. Hood Meadows for an unforgettable day of adventure and excitement at Double Mountain Pond Skim on May 4, 2024. It promises to be a good time! Please visit https://www.skihood.com/explore/pond-skim to learn more about the event and to purchase tickets for the Pond Skim and Polar Plunge! The event is free for guests ABOUT DOUBLE MOUNTAIN BREWERY & CIDERY Double Mountain is a Brewery & Cidery based in Hood River, Oregon that extends a warm welcome to all. Our brewery in Hood River boasts our original taproom where you can experience the heart of our craft. We have two additional taprooms in Portland, located in the Woodstock and Overlook neighborhoods, and a kitchen at the Aladdin theater, open during showtimes. We strive to create a living room atmosphere, where we spin vinyl, offer weekly free live music, and host trivia nights. Our food philosophy revolves around sharing moments with friends. We offer various New Haven-style pizzas, sandwiches, salads, and an array of other dishes that proudly steer clear of the fryer.We take pride in our hop-forward beers, crisp unsweetened dry-ciders, and house-made n/a root beer and ginger ale. We hope you’ll stop by and share a pint with us! Double Mountain may be found on tap and in bottles throughout the Pacific Northwest. from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3VMS48T

#Craft Beer #Beer #News

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brookstonalmanac · 2 months

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Beer Events 3.1

Events

Philadelphia Society for the Promotion of Agriculture founded (1785)

Christian Moerlein sold his first keg of beer (Ohio; 1854)

Toldeo Brewers Association founded (1898)

16 Baltimore breweries banded together to form the Maryland Brewing Co. (1899)

Anchor Brewing became Manilla Brewing, Dobbs Ferry, West Chester County, New York (1900)

The Decapitator, a combination bottle opened & corkscrew, patented (1910)

Pabst introduced Pablo, their 1st non-alcohol beer (1916)

American Can patented a Liquid Filling Machine (1938)

”Duffy’s Tavern” radio show debuted on CBS (1941)

Victor Alvear patented a Keg Closure (1949)

Bud Man debuted (1969)

Uley Bitter 1st brewed (UK; 1985)

Mack Johnston patented a Keg Tapper (1988)

Iceland repealed their Prohibition, which began in 1915 (1989)

Miller Clear introduced (1993)

Michael Frank patented a Card-Controlled Beverage Distribution System (1994)

Carlsbad Pubhouse & Brewery closed (California; 1997)

Sidebar Brewing closed (California; 1999)

Breweries Opened

Pontiac Brewing (Michigan; 1900)

Mon Village Brewery (Quebec, Canada; 1987)

Les Brasseurs G.M.T. brewery (Quebec, Canada; 1988)

Butterfield Brewing (California; 1989)

Indianapolis Brewing (Indiana; 1989)

Pavichevich Brewing / Acme Brewing (Illinois; 1989)

North Yorkshire Brewing (England; 1990)

Conners Brewery (Ontario, Canada; 1991)

Bardo Rodeo brewery (Virginia; 1993)

Republic Brewery (Marshall Islands; 1993)

Atlantic Coast Brewing (Massachusetts; 1994)

Avery Brewing (Colorado; 1994)

Boardwalk Bistro brewery (Texas; 1994)

Covany Brewing (California; 1994)

Great Falls Brewing / No Tomatoes Restaurant & Brewery (Maine; 1987)

Lowell Brewing (Massachusetts; 1994)

Spring Garden Brewing (North Carolina; 1994)

Uinta Brewing (Utah; 1994)

Alley Kat Brewing (Alberta, Canada; 1995)

Boundary Bay Brewing (Washington; 1995)

Hoffbrau Steak & Brewery (Texas; 1995)

Hub City Brewery (Texas; 1995)

Medicine Bow Brewing (Wyoming; 1995)

Newport Beach Brewing (California; 1995)

Sutter Brewing (CA; 1995)

Tommyknocker Brewery & Pub (Colorado; 1995)

Baja Brewing (CA; 1996)

Bar Harbor Brewing (Washington; 1996)

Brauhaus Schloss (Maryland; 1996)

Charlie & Jake's Brewery & BBQ (Florida; 1996)

Coasters brewery (Florida; 1996)

Cottage Brewery (Canada; 1996)

Ice Harbor Brewing (Washington; 1996)

Rough Draft Brewing (South Dakota; 1996)

San Rafael Brewing (California; 1996)

Woodstock Inn & Brewing (New York; 1996)

Black River Bistro & Brewing (Michigan; 1997)

The Brewery (Alaska; 1997)

Brutopia brewery (Canada; 1997)

Circle City Beer Works (Indiana; 1997)

Dirty Dawg Brewing (Pennsylvania; 1997)

Flying Bison Brewing (New York; 1997)

Great Providence Brewing (Rhode Island; 1997)

Harbor Brewing (New York; 1997)

High Desert Brewing (New Mexico; 1997)

Island Brewing & Pizza (California; 1997)

Lovejoy's Brewpub (Texas; 1997)

Magnotta Brewery (Canada; 1997)

Old Hampton Brewers (New York; 1997)

Sanibel Brewpub (Florida; 1997)

Shady Island Brewing (Canada; 1997)

Southern Oregon & Pacific Brewing (Oregon; 1997)

Tom's River Brewing (New Jersey; 1997)

Wolf Creek Brewing (California; 1997)

Worcester Street Brewing (Maryland; 1997)

Cafe Charles Brewing (New York; 1998)

Central Coast Brewing (California; 1998)

Founders Brewing (Michigan; 1998)

Lighthouse Brewing (British Columbia, Canada; 1998)

Palau Brewing (Philippines; 1998)

White Water Brewing (California; 1998)

BJ's Pizza Grill & Brewery (California; 1999)

Coast Brewing (Mississippi; 1999)

Hook & Ladder Brewing (California; 1999)

Oakdale Brewing (California; 1999)

Arran Brewery (Scotland; 2000)

Bluebell Brewery (England; 2000)

Driftwood Brewery (England; 2000)

Zea Rotisserie & Brewery (Louisiana; 2000)

Heritage Ales brewery (England; 2001)

Mount Tallac Brewing (California; 2001)

Napa Smith Brewing (California; 2008)

Hill Farmstead Brewery (Vermont; 2010)

#Events

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hoppytrailspod · 3 months

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HT202 - Intoxicated Traveler

Special Guest Episode! Today we have Steve, the Intoxicated Traveler join us on our journey down this Hoppy Trail. We spend some time talking about how IG got started and stories of some of our various travels. We do a deep dive into a recent article that's gotten a lot of people fired up about the fate of the beer industry, so make sure you stick around after the break!

Join our Patreon at www.patreon.com/hoppytrailspod by donating as little as $3/month for the article notes and other bonus content, and for some upcoming Patron Only hangouts! Your donation helps us cover the costs of making this show and bringing you all this great content.

If you're in the South Carolina area please consider meeting us at the New Groove Artisan Brewery - Woodstock 24 Barrel Aged Beer Festival! We'll be in South Carolina all weekend so reach out if you'd like to meet up for a beer. https://www.eventbrite.com/e/new-groove-presents-woodstock-2024-tickets-744568021997

Check out the Article on Men's Health if you'd like to follow along with our breakdwon: https://www.mensjournal.com/food-drink/craft-beer-bubble

Send us comments, feedback and your Trail Reports to [email protected]; and check out our InstaGram account @hoppytrailspod. All of our links can be found by heading to www.hoppytrailspod.com; and you can support this show by donating to us at www.patreon.com/hoppytrailspod.

Check out the newest episode!

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thewestern · 6 months

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Chapter 19:2

Whereas in many respects the Phish business plan — or lack thereof — was built to spec on the Grateful Dead’s blueprint, there is one major exception wherein the student became the master. That is Music Festivals, a space in which Phish was a trailblazer. Their jam-flow elders, meanwhile, never quite found their footing with the festival format. But how can this be? After all, the Grateful Dead played the granddaddy of them all — we’re talking about Woodstock here. Well, their by-all-accounts-forgettable set opened with one of the band members electrocuting himself with his guitar. What had happend was, Bear Stanley thought the festival PA system was some amateurish bullshit, so he spent Soundcheck doing some on-the-fly fiddling with the wiring on the amplifiers. And then it started raining. Playing the first few bars of the opening song — a rare Saint Stephen, and perhaps now we know why — Bobby recalled feeling a distinct tingling sensation, right before his rig blew him ten feet back across the fucking stage.

So Woodstock could have gone better, but the boys remained steadfast. Beside, everybody knows the Grateful Dead are a California band. Which is to say these East Coast cats weren’t yet hip to their jive. Naturally, then the question became: what if there were a Woodstock West? Enter: Altamont.

Not much to relitigate, really. Hippie speed freak charges the stage, brandishing a .38 Special. Beer-drunk biker fascist dude stabs him three times in the back. Party’s over.

(It was always Jerry who had the hard-on for those wannabe outlaw assholes. Nobody else in the family wanted them around, picking fights with the men, and copping feels from the women. Not to mention the work they could do on a backstage buffet. But, hey, Garcia insisted, and this was his rodeo. To him, the whole wave they were riding at that time was about Freedom, with a capital fucking f. And they, The Angels, were Freedom Personified, he said. Whatever the hell that means.)

The licensing agreement between Saints Sixtus and Bernardus expired in the early nineties. Both parties would probably have been pleased to extend their symbiotic business arrangement, were it not for those tight asses at the Brotherhood of Holy Brewers. Around that time they were creating an unofficially official industry standard for designating authentic Trappist breweries, as opposed to plain old abbey breweries. It heretofore mandated that all monastic brewing take place in an accredited monastery, to be performed by gen-u-ine monks. So the free ride to total consciousness was over for the everly pious brothers of Saint Sixtus, just as the gravy train had reached its final destination for the contract brewers at Saint Bernardus. Though there were no hard feelings between them. For a fact, Saint Bernardus was allowed to keep the recipes and the famous Sixtus yeast strain, just so long as they gave back the Westvleteren Brewery brand name. They were even allowed to keep the picture of the monk on the bottle. Although they had to take off his little yarmulke and his special tunic. Still looked like any other monk you ever did see. Brown-robed, donut-headed, Friar Tuck-looking mother fucker. On the Christmas Ale label he’s got a little Santa hat to cover up his bald spot.

Mayor Mockingbird (cat) didn’t show much enthusiasm for anything apart from licking himself and torture killing the odd rodent. Brewing, certainly, the kitten did not much care for it. Whenever the hoses turned on, he took off. But, for some reason, that cycloptic little feline loved the forklift. He’d hear it beeping and coming running. Hop on Grace’s lap and lean his little paws up on the steering wheel — Seven and Five. The way Wilhelm II would let Hildy drive on his lap around the dirt roads down on the ranch. Her kid brother Ernie rode shotgun. He was still too small to see over the dash, but he cherished the memory always, as if someday it was still going to be his turn. Hildegard hadn’t thought about it in years. For a fact, she had almost no memory of her father. Not as he lived. Grace, never the sentimentalist herself, nonetheless thought this to be the cutest possible violation of occupational health and safety protocol. She even wanted to get Larry Cat his own little yellow hard hat.

Here’s a thesis: from Amy’s Farm to Big Cypress, Phish pioneered the modern music festival.

But … somewhere in between, was the beginning of the end. He was called Clifford Ball.

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name

It all started out with the best of intentions, like these things so often do. They were going to Build Something, (Gestures) Out There. Plattsburgh, New York, specifically, would be the place. A short hop and a skip across Lake Champlain from Burlington, their beloved Vermont home. The venue, such as it was: a decommissioned Air Force base. Back in its heyday, about eighteen months before the Altamont Free Festival, a B-52 bomber had took off from right there, on a Hard Head mission, part of Operation Chrome Dome. (Again, what pervert is naming all this stuff?) Before it could reach the edge of Soviet airspace, where it would maintain a perimeter of first-strike capability, a cabin fire sent this Stratofortress into a tailspin, corkscrewing into the icy depths off the coast of Greenland and dumping its ruptured payload of four thermonuclear bombs into the North Star Bay. Anyway, that was thirty fucking years ago. There hasn’t been a Broken Arrow incident since, not counting that shit sandwich in Damascus. (Arkansas, not Syria.) By now the Cold War was ancient history. We were ramping down our strategic defenses. And did anybody think about what effect that would have on the fine people of Plattsburgh? No they did not. Because it would take another thirty years to recover the economic loss wrought by the base closure, per the official estimate of the Clinton County comptroller. But then along comes these four hippie goofballs from across the lake. And damn if they don’t make up the deficit fivefold in a fucking weekend. Seventy thousand concertgoers descend, sextupling the local population. They build their own popup city, complete with campgrounds, food vendors, a town square, provocative art installations, free parking as far as the eye could see and two thousand port-a-toilets. There’s a Clifford Ball Chapel, where two wooks have a tie-dye wedding. No amount of Internet research can confirm whether they’re still married, but you can still watch the ceremony online. The first comment reads: My first Son was conceived at the Clifford Ball. Good times. Quite. Come to think of it, everybody knows how four kids died at Altamont Speedway. (The aforementioned fatal stabbing, plus two victims of a hit-and-run, as well as an LSD-induced drowning in an irrigation ditch, makes four.) However, according to the American Red Cross there were also four babies born that day at the festival. So in terms of net life lost, it was a wash.

The Mick was doing paperwork — POs on the HIHA. He didn’t get to ride the forklift so much anymore, what with all this desk job bullshit, come fallen into his lap. Managing the accounts as they fluttered away like leaves with the changing of the seasons. Considerable fewer stops for Skip, the Newfy’s longtime delivery driver. He was getting up there, though. Probably for the best. Topher SKIP Engel had used to be Hank’s mailman, as well as he was his weed dealer. How about that for convenience? Door-to-door service, before that was the expectation. Nowadays you can get blood or semen — whatever your pleasure — delivered same-day. Anyhow Skip would have held out for that sweet postal service pension were it not for President Pudding-For-Brains implementing mandatory drug screening for all federal employees. Clean piss was much harder to come by back then in the late eighties, so urinalyses were a non-starter. (By the mid-nineties, pee was everywhere. Yellow piss, clear piss, pregnant piss. All kinds.) To hell with it. He had his pastoral ideal of the postman — Charlie Utter, Cliff Calvin, Karl Malone. The old Pony Express. Whatever he was now, it wasn’t that. Not even in the same zip code. By then hardly all they were delivering by the U.S. mail was out-and-out junk. Scams for cash sweepstakes you didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in heck of winning. Catalogs for crap you couldn’t afford unless by some miracle you did. He didn’t want to be a party to the demise of such a storied public institution anyhow.

Well, so it goes how one door closes. Because it just so happened that the Newfy were outgrowing Mary Ellen Moffett’s station wagon, what with the exponential growth of the Distribution Co-op. So Hank made the capital expenditure investment of a new delivery vehicle. And dammit if he didn’t buy a Grumman LLV — a mother fucking mail truck for all you laymen. Not Skip’s old rig, per say, but one just like it. Naturally Hank offered his old buddy the gig driving it, on the condition that he continue to sell to him on the side from his private stash; in addition to being a distributor and retailer of cannabis products, Skip was himself a manufacturer. This in his capacity as a pharmaceutical botanist, which was the term he preferred. After some terse negotiation, Skip accepted. He’d been zig-zagging the state in that POS ever since. (It was a POS, but Hank had his reasons for buying it. Two of them. First: it should come as no surprise that they’re fucking indestructible as a Sherman tank, which is how come they so rarely appear on the auction block. Therefore, if they do go up for sale, you basically have no choice but to buy it. Also, of all commercial vehicles, the mail truck bears the closest passing resemblance to the Space Shuttle, with the sort of snub nose. Hank’d since come around on the whole astronaut thing. The Mick hand painted their ripoff of the NASA insignia with the letters NEWFY swapped in that outer-spacey, red font.) Though he wasn’t a prideful sort, Skip would go on to take immense personal satisfaction in crossing the CDL million-miler rubicon. Even though he would’ve never said so to his colleagues, they all knew how much it meant to him, so there was a little ceremony for him at the bar. Hank hand-made him a medal (a gold medal), and hung it around his neck like Chewbacca. Skip affixed it onto the rearview mirror. The Mick even brewed a commemorative beer to mark the occasion. Two Trips to the Moon and Back. A Belgian-style dubbel. (For those of you wondering, should a prolific grower and smoker of Marijuana have a job driving six thousand pounds of sin up and down the highway … grow up. Skip had the reflexes and the hands-free hygiene routine of a cat. That’s why they called him Whiskers.) Per the American beer writer Jeff Alworth in his reference tome, The Beer Bible (Workman, 2015), the Westvleteren beers brewed at Saint Sixtus remain undoubtedly the most coveted in the world. This is because they refuse to scale their operation to meet demand. There are only two places to get Westvleteren beer — by the glass at the lovely monastery cafe, or by the crate on the loading dock. (Limit one per customer for the latter. No telling if you’ll see a monk driving a forklift. Flowing robes and open-toed shoes would constitute an OSHA double whammy.) Saint Bernardus beers are also quite well renowned in their own right, but they’re distributed all over the world. Not that they’re necessarily easy to find. If you’re curious, best bet for copping is if your town has one of them wine and spirits warehouse superstores, where you get a full-on shopping cart, like you’re doing the supermarket sweep with plastic handles of hard liquor. They might could have Christmas Ale or Abt 12 stocked in the Imports aisle. That, or if there’s a fancy liquor store in the rich neighborhood with the good schools, where the guy behind the register has a goatee and knows about what natural wines pair best with which gamey meats. Just ask him. Never mind. He’ll come out an tell you. Unsolicited. There he is behind you.

Those bougie-ass Bottle Shops, as they’re so called, were always Hank’s bread and butter. Bar accounts were always the harder nut to crack. (First rule of beer distribution: there’s a lot more shelf space than there are bar taps. Allocate your time accordingly.) He’d ride all over with a handheld cooler that he rigged up with a miniature tap, pouring little sampler glasses in tiny red plastic cups abot the size of shot glasses. If they liked the merchandise and the price was right, Skip would step in to fulfill the order. Used to be when the limited edition SKUs would come out, such as Home Invasion Holiday Ale, the most hopeless of the beer dorks — we’re talking the real sickos here — would call ahead to those fancy liquor stores to see who was getting what and when. Then word would get out on the message boards or however else those life forms communicate. Fucking, nerd telepathy. Then they’d all set up camp there, in a strip mall out front of some mom-and-pop wine and spirits store in the middle of the damn afternoon on a workday. Could be dead of winter. Didn’t matter. Was it a bit like a scavenger hunt for grown-ups? (Pokemon Go … to the polls!) Skip would see them sitting there on the curb, Indian style, and think well isn’t that the damnedest thing. They would gawk at him as he rolled the dolly by, mouths even more agape than usual. Did it make him proud to be delivering something so coveted after? No, not really. To reiterate, he wasn’t a prideful man, apart for when he was awarded that gold medal for driving that millionth mile. Fucking a, that was something. Otherwise, he’d deliver horse shit and do it happily. Just so long as it was honest work, as in the shit came direct from the horse’s ass. That, the check cleared and the truck had an AM/FM radio.

#novls of tumblr

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chicagobeerpass · 10 months

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Chicago Beer Pass: One Hoppy Doji

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Welcome to the Chicago Beer Pass: Your ticket to all the great beer events happening in and around Chicago.

On this episode of Chicago Beer Pass, Brad Chmielewski and Nik White have themselves cans of Doji from Old Irving Brewing. The last week Brad was out of town on vacation sipping piña coladas on the beach so he didn't visit any local breweries but Nik got out to a few. Nik managed to check out Kishwaukee Brewing and Tighthead Brewing. Kishwaukee recently won a medal for their Brown Ale and Nik had to try it at their brewery in Woodstock. As the year is half over, be on the look out for an episode coming soon where the guys share their favorite beers of 2023 so far.

Having issues listening to the audio? Try the MP3 (53.2MB) or subscribe to the podcast on iTunes!

#audio #podcast #audio podcast #beer #beer guys #chicago #Brad Chmielewski #nik white #Old Irving #tighthead brewing #Kishwaukee Brewing #Woodstock #Beer Review #beer tasting

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necraftbrew · 1 year

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NE Craft Brew - Best of January 2023

Best of January 2023

I wanted to bring you the Best of January 2023 craft beers from the past month. I've reviewed a wide variety of craft beers from numerous craft breweries all across New England. Some of these brewers are widely known, while others I've just heard of when I started to take a closer look at all the craft beer offerings available to me here in New England. Before I take you to the beers, I want you to understand how I approach the rating of these craft beers. To keep it simple, I wanted to present my favorites solely based on enjoyment and drinkability. Because at the end of the day, that's all that matters. So, with that in mind, let's look at my top three favorite beers from this past month. Salem Lager - Notch Brewing For some time now, I've been looking for a refreshing Lager with plenty of quaffable flavors. The Salem Lager from Notch Brewing was delivered. It was crisp and refreshing from start to finish. It wasn't over complicated or gimmicky in any way. Salem Lager is just a straightforward Lager with great flavor that stays true to its roots. I'll be honest; when I first sipped this beer, it made me smile. So many times you crack open a beer, you've rolled the dice on, and you get let down. That wasn't the case at all. After my "professional tasting assessment," which consisted of drinking it slower than usual, I just sat back and enjoyed the rest. So if you spot this particular craft lager on any of your journeys, do yourself a favor and pick it up - you won't be disappointed.

Salem Lager - Notch Brewing Check out the full review of Salem Lager by Notch Brewing of Vermont. Mountain Haze - Woodstock Inn and Brewery Every once in a while, you find something that hits just right. Sometime earlier this year, I had tried Mountain Haze on a whim before I decided to start reviewing craft beers across New England. It was probably a post-hike snag from the local craft beer exchange. Regardless, this beer is the quintessential post-hike beer. Rich in flavor and refreshing. With this craft beer, you can sit and reflect in quiet contemplation as it doesn't demand your full attention. It lets you know it's there with its bright hoppy flavor without being too upfront. Woodstock Inn and Brewery have always delivered quality craft beer. Mountain Haze doesn't disappoint and allows you to enjoy it while calmly enjoying your favorite memories from your last hike. I'll be grabbing more Mountain Haze whenever I get the opportunity. This craft beer after a hot summer hike is perfect. Feel free to check out the full review of Mountain Haze by Woodstock Inn and Brewery, or grab some the next time you see it!

Woodstock Inn and Brewery - Mountain Haze Spiked Smoothie Strawberry Lemonade There always seems to be one can that catches my eye, whether it's the crazy graphic or bright color combination. This one was the latter of the two. I can't tell you how many times I have been burned by fancy can art. Perhaps, I'll start a section focusing on just beer with deceptive cans that draw you in only to be disappointed by subpar craft beer. Despite its bright colors, Connecticut Valley Brewing Company has one hell of a fruit beer with their Spiked Smoothie. I was checking out all their flavors, and they have quite a selection for the Spiked Smoothie line. Anyways - I was thrown off by this. I had circled back to the case where this can was twice before I picked it up. But, knowing I was taking a chance, I grabbed it anyways. This has had to have been one of the more memorable beers this month. I feel like a broken record when I mention that I don't care for fruit beers or sours. This is THE exception. I haven't tasted anything quite like this. Check out the full review of Spiked Smoothie Strawberry Lemonade by Connecticut Valley Brewing Company.

spiked smoothie - strawberry lemonade Best of January 2023 - Conclusion Well, that's it for NE Craft Brew - Best of January. It has honestly been an exciting journey so far. Looking at all these unique craft brews around New England has opened my eyes to how fortunate we are to live here. If you enjoyed this post, please take some time to check out more of my reviews! Read the full article

#Bestof #Connecticut #CraftBeer #NewHampshire #Vermont

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wineryescapades · 1 year

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Woodstock Beer Festival

@ New Groove Artisan Brewery in Boiling Springs, South Carolina. Woodstock Featuring beers that have been conditioned with wood, be it an oak barrel or staves! 23 different brewery from 8 different states! Breweries as far away as Colorado, Illinois, and Nebraska. Wiley Roots Brewing from CO Jukes Ale Works from Nebraska We love Charles Town Fermentory Liability Brewery Alga Beer Co.…

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#Woodstock &039;23 - Wood Conditioned Beer

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yokelhub · 1 year

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Clemson Brothers Gilded Otter❤⁣ @clemsonbrewingnewpaltz ⁣ .⁣ .⁣ .⁣ .⁣ ⁣ ⁣ 👋Hello Yokels! ⁣ ⁣ at YOKEL we love supporting local businesses. Without mom and pop shops, our towns would be no fun! Not only do they provide The products we need immediately but they also create the atmosphere we’ve come to love in our bustling towns. It’s thanks to them, paying their rent/mortgages and opening their doors to us that make each town feel particularly special. Even when we can’t purchase something, we are welcomed back time and again. If we don’t shop in these stores how can we expect him to be there for us to stroll through? We just want to say THANK YOU to the local business owners for keeping their doors open to us! 🛍 ❤ Your Local Yokels⁣ .⁣ .⁣ .⁣ .⁣ #buylocal #shoplocal #smallbusiness #supportlocalbusiness #woodstock #localbusiness #shopsmall #upstateny #yokelapp #shophandmade #boutiqueshopping #handmadeisbetter #homebasedbusiness #smallbiz #supportsmall #smallshop #farmtotable #startuplife #hudsonvalley #catskills #adirondacks #upstate #upstatenewyork #Escapebrooklyn #highlandairbnb #hudsonvalleyairbnb #newpaltzny #upstaterealestate (at Clemson Bros. Brewery - New Paltz) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ck3_MmTjWna/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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nwbeerguide · 29 days

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Hood River brewery Double Mountain Brewery and Cidery announces the "Infinite Pint" glassware.

image courtesy Double Mountain Brewery and Cidery Press Release Double Mountain, known for its balanced hoppy beers and creative spirit, is proud to finally announce its latest breakthrough in beer technology: the “Infinite Pint” glassware. This glass is set to revolutionize the craft beer drinking industry, and Double Mountain is excited to share this breakthrough with all of you. Invented from space-age polymers and embedded with nanotechnology, the Infinite Pint promises an endless stream of beer with just a single pour. “We’re thrilled to introduce the Infinite Pint to the world,” said Matt Swihart, Co-founder and Brewmaster of Double Mountain. “It’s the culmination of years of research and development, and we believe it will change the way people enjoy their favorite brews forever.” You may be asking; ‘how does the Infinite Pint work?’ Well, through a patented quantum displacement mechanism, the glassware creates a temporary wormhole within its structure, allowing beer to flow continuously without ever depleting the volume. It’s the perfect solution for those who never want to see their beer supply dwindle. The Infinite Pint also features customizable flavor profiles. Using an app downloaded to your smartphone, users of the Infinite Pint can adjust the taste of their beer on the fly, from hoppy to malty to fruity. It’s like having a personal brewmaster that caters to your own personal taste buds in the palm of your hand. The Infinite Pint will be available for purchase exclusively at all Double Mountain Taprooms starting April 1, 2024. For those interested in securing their own piece of beer-drinking history, act fast - supplies are limited. … ABOUT DOUBLE MOUNTAIN BREWERY & CIDERY Double Mountain is a Brewery & Cidery based in Hood River, Oregon that extends a warm welcome to all. Our brewery in Hood River boasts our original taproom where you can experience the heart of our craft. We have two additional taprooms in Portland, located in the Woodstock and Overlook neighborhoods, and a kitchen at the Aladdin theater, open during showtimes. We strive to create a living room atmosphere, where we spin vinyl, offer weekly free live music, and host trivia nights. Our food philosophy revolves around sharing moments with friends. We offer various New Haven-style pizzas, sandwiches, salads, and an array of other dishes that proudly steer clear of the fryer.We take pride in our hop-forward beers, crisp unsweetened dry-ciders, and house-made n/a root beer and ginger ale. We hope you’ll stop by and share a pint with us! Double Mountain may be found on tap and in bottles throughout the Pacific Northwest from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3TJRCWt

#Craft Beer #Beer #News

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nickgerlich · 2 years

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High Anxieties

California was the first US state to legalize medical use of marijuana back in 1996. Today, there are 37 states along with the District of Columbia, Guam, Puerto Rico, and US Virgin Islands where either medical or recreational use is legal. And now that there is critical mass, beverage makers have started staking out their claims on what they view as a growth market.

New drinks are being marketed as an alcohol alternative. While many state laws allow for sale of THC-laden products, most do not allow for a combination of THC and alcohol. It’s probably a good idea, because there is scant research about the interaction of these two drugs. I doubt the results would be good. Mix and match at your own peril.

Several breweries have gone one toke over the line, with the likes of Pabst, Lagunitas, and Constellation (makers of Modelo and Corona), and others introducing new lines. Pabst’s High Seltzers are a cheeky pun, and contain 10mg of THC, which the brewing company says “is the right amount to have a good time.” Yeah, I’ll bet. Cannonball!  

And it is precisely that scenario that has some folks concerned, because if the THC is ingested too quickly, the consumer could wind up higher than a kite at Woodstock. Still, the market for cannabis beverages is expected to grow to $1 billion by 2025. That’s only a few puffs away in ganja land.

Regardless of whether we agree with the legal use or sale of marijuana for any purpose, we marketers must come to grips with this new reality. I suspect that federal legalization will happen within the next 10 years, allowing states like even Texas to sell and transport it without fear of getting profiled on I-40. Oldham County and Carson County Sheriffs have been having too much fun pulling over out-of-state cars for any minor infraction just to have a look-see.

Of course, the prospects of what amounts to a new product category brings with it many questions. Will there be open container laws governing its use in motor vehicles? Where will it be shelved in stores—among the alcohol products, or with the soft drinks? Will local and state liquor laws govern the days and times these products can be sold?

The financial efficacy of legal recreational marijuana is clear: those states reaped $3.7 billion in tax revenues last year. It’s hard to say no to that kind of money. And that is money—both the retail sale and the taxes—that is not in the black market. It’s an edible every state would like to sink its teeth into.

If you had asked me 20 years ago if I thought I’d ever see widespread legal sale and use of marijuana, I would have said you were smoking something potent. But now, it appears it will happen within my lifetime. No, I am not a user, but you know…if my health took a turn and it were a viable treatment for pain and suffering…I would strongly consider it. I didn’t get to where I am in my career, though, by using that stuff for fun.

I’m solidly behind this new product category. To ignore it is to turn your back on legal profit. If it doesn’t mesh with your moral compass, then that’s your call. For Pabst and the others, though, it’s just another round of new products, which as we all know, is the lifeblood of marketing.

Even if that lifeblood has THC coursing through it.

Dr “Put That In Your Glass And Drink It” Gerlich  

Audio Blog

#marketing #cannabis #beverages #THC #medical #recreational

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