Rant and Rave Volume 1

Today marks the about-a-month-or-so anniversary of my move to the Midwest. I shouldn't complain too much because you guys have all been real nice to me, but I might anyway. Maybe this is all shit that should go in the "Biographical Information" section, but I don't really care. This is more of a rant or a musing about what I have learned so far.

Sorry if I piss you off.

The thing is I am an ass hole. I say sharp and abrupt things with very little concern for people's feelings. I do not do this for the sake of shock value or to make me feel better about myself, I do this because the things that I say are a real time commentary of the way that I view the world at that particular moment. With that being said, let me provide a little commentary on the beer I have drank, the shit I have seen, and whatever else tickles my pickle over the past month or so.

Early on in my Michiana experience, I picked up some Sunspot by Greenbush Brewing. It tasted like shit. I could give you some snobbery break down of it, but that isn't how I roll. You won't hear me speak of IBUs and aromas on this blog. I don't believe in either of those terms. Ratings, awards, honors, honours with a u, and other such subjective bull shit do not appeal to me--and this is my blog, not yours. There are two ways that something can taste. Good and bad. That is it.

Fortunately, I was able to plug my nose and suck it down and then go buy some other stuff. Robert the Bruce by Three Floyds was a solid choice. It's a Scottish ale, and there is not much that beats a good Scottish ale. I could drink that shit all day--but I didn't because I only had six and they were expensive. I stretched them out for a week, which was very difficult. We had a 19-pack of Miller Lite, so my routine was to drink one of the good beers, then follow it with three of the piss-waters.

Before you purists start bitching at me for drinking something as common as a Miller Lite, go fuck yourselves. Piss-water beer has its niche. I mean, shit, McDonald's isn't fine dining, but when the kids are in the car, or you are on a long haul, sometimes you have to do it. And when you do it, you are going to supersize that shit because go big or go home. Fuck no, I don't want McDonald's for dinner every night, but unlike some of you snobs, I can't afford to drink four craft brews a night.

The other nice thing about shit beer is that it lacks substance and creates less of a hangover. If I want to drink six Miller Lites I will still function and not get a big ass headache. It doesn't work that way with a craft beer. Craft beer is not meant to be pounded. Same thing with one of those fancy restaurants that you need reservations for. Good expensive food, but with small portions.

And while I am thinking about it, Michiana is a stupid fucking name. I lived on the Washington-Idaho border for four years, and the Oregon-Washington border for eight. We didn't start combining names to make our own bullshit region. No. We despised the ass holes across the border, agreed on nothing except that all those fucking Californians need to go back home. Fuck Michiana.

However I will concede that Washingho would have been a cool name for everyone in Spokane Valley-Post Falls and Pullman-Moscow.

I think it is also a waste to be drinking a good craft beer when you are already drunk. Anybody who has ever drank beer has drank themselves to the point where they can't taste it anymore. What the fuck is the point in that? If you are going to get drunk, do it right.

Busch 30-packs fit perfectly under a college dorm bed for a good reason. That should be any 19 year-old's go to. The hipsters are ruining PBR for me. Why do they like that shit?

I went through South Bend yesterday and had sometime to kill. I had been to Evil Czech and loved the shit out of it last year, but I wanted to find a place that I had never been before. I used MapQuest to search craft breweries and it took me to three different places that had either been shut down or never existed. I stopped and walked around at Notre Dame a little and remembered that the only thing more irritating than college kids is rich college kids. It made me miss sitting at the Ram next to Husky Stadium in Seattle before UW games. I ended up leaving town without having a beer, which was a damn shame.

A goddamn shame.

You fuckers go on and have yourselves a good week this week. Later.

Bell's Brewing, Kalamazoo

So here it begins, my first new post from the Midwest. Since I visited last summer, I have gotten married, moved to Indiana, and listened to everyone tell me about how shitty the winter is going to be.
 

Don't worry, I'm sure it will be awful.

I have also heard relayed with the same passion how great the beer is out here. Again, this is not anything that I doubt, but have you been to Portland, Seattle, and Bend? We did pretty well out west with our beer.

Sometimes it snows there too.

I admit that people in the Northwest have a tendency to talk about the local beer scene like they are the only ones in the country, but shit, I think we can claim some expertise.

Now with all that being said, Kalamazoo, Michigan is a damn good beer town. I have no complaints, but it isn't Portland yet. It isn't even Bend. It is about even with Spokane--and that's okay--there is good drinking in Spokane. It's way better than Boise.

Way better.

Fortunately I have people in Kalamazoo, so if I have too much of their better-than-Boise beer, I can call someone for a ride.

On this particular trip, my parents from Washington state were visiting so we took them to Bell's. I had been to Bell's a couple years before and had enjoyed it. Midwest Beer 101 at the University of Beer Drinking starts with a lesson at Bell's.

The time I had been before, we took the kids (because Michigan lets you take kids to a tavern) and sat outside. The young man who is now my stepson was four years old and took his wiener out and pissed on a tree. It startled me when he did because I was pretty sure he wasn't drunk.

This time, he was six years old, and was one of five cousins his age in a one table party of eleven. We sat inside and the place packed. Since my previous experience, they had built an addition to the indoor seating area, and hired a bunch of waitresses so you didn't have to order at the bar.

I don't mind ordering at the bar--especially when I can send a kid up to get me another pitcher. You can't always count on a waitress to come by or get your shit right.

When our waitress finally came by, she didn't get our shit right.

My wife didn't drink on this adventure and ordered some sort of tea because, well, who the fuck knows. They never brought it.

I inquired about buying a growler to add to my collection. I couldn't get one in the restaurant. I had to leave through the bar, out the front door, through the parking lot, go around to where their store was. Then when I got there, they only had four beers on tap and I couldn't sample at the store, I had to sample at the bar.
 

Well fuck that. I would rather call my cable provider.

The growlers were pretty bad ass though. They were the big beer stein style and only cost $18, but since I couldn't sample, I had to settle for some of their Two Hearted Ale that I could just as easily get at the store. It wasn't worth taking a risk and winding up with a growler full of something shitty.

I have to give Bell's credit though. The shitty service and the run around to get a growler added to the Seattle ambiance that this place has. They are a very good joint to sit and drink at, and they keep hipster waiters and waitresses on hand to really send home the authenticity. There was even a butchy with a blue mohawk. The 65 degree July day made may really feel at home as well.

This is the brewery that the rest will be compared to.