Wednesday Weekly: The importance of being ancient.

I do this very seldom. This week's Wednesday Weekly doubles as my weekly column submission to the New Albany Tribune, and I've waited until it was published on-line to reprint below.

BAYLOR: The importance of being ancient ... "Did road rage exist in ancient times? Just ask Ben Hur."

Here's the full text.

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To be ancient is to be venerable. Ancient items are very old ones. In historical terms, ancient refers to dates and times long passed. In short, there is nothing novel about being ancient.

However, when considering the very concept of ancient, there are aspects of relativity and nebulousness. In the current era, ancient history generally is taken as describing periods in human civilization prior to the fall of Rome. Will this assumption still be accepted a thousand years from now?

Precisely when will our here and now become the ancient epoch of tomorrow?

It remains that an original Model-T is an ancient automobile, "Justified & Ancient" was a song performed by a defunct band called The KLF, and Ancient Age© was and is a Kentucky bourbon whisky, so called because it supposedly spends more time aging in charred oak barrels than competing brands.

Long ago, during the remote, ancient history of my life, I was infatuated with Ancient Age©, although not the firewater itself. Back then, the merits of bourbon flavor mattered far less than the imperative of masking it with cola and quaffing huge quantities through the inevitable grimacing. In this manner, Ancient Age© somewhat ironically became a rite of youthful passage.

Actually, it was the name itself that always appealed to me. Ancient Age© implied experience, dignity and respectability, but eventually I matured just enough to realize that while the words captivated me, the experience of consuming whisky did not. It’s probably been thirty years since I tasted Ancient Age© -- although only thirty minutes since my last beer, which is where I stake my personal claim to knowledge.

In this quest for the higher ground, it’s time to revert to the lower case.

Only one additional letter is required to render ancient age into ancient sage, no longer a trademarked bourbon, and well beyond mere chronology, passing into the wider realm of pure wisdom: Sage as practitioner of sagacity, the quality possessed by the impossibly gnarly old man atop the high mountain, greeting exhausted searchers with impenetrable quasi-Delphic instructions for living, commandments regarded as all the more brilliant for being utterly incomprehensible.

One might turn the page, earn a wage or rattle a cage, but take away the “s” from sage and insert instead the consonant coming just before it in the alphabet, and the game changes dramatically, from ancient sage into ancient rage.

Did road rage exist in ancient times? Just ask Ben Hur.

As we commonly use it today, the word rage conjures images of furious anger, passionate intensity, and violent depth of emotional feeling. Rage comes from the same Latin root as rabies, not a condition to be confused with calm and deliberation. Whether enraged or outraged, we are primal.

Rage deriving from far-off places and times might legitimately be termed ancient rage, and for all the reasons listed here, brewer Jared Williamson of the New Albanian Brewing Company created a special edition beer for release on August 3, my 50th birthday: Ancient Rage, a Smoked Baltic Porter.

As a genial and trusting sort, I persist in believing that the half-century mark will prove to be a milestone more than a millstone. Just the same, there is the creeping perception of impending menace as calendar dates slip away and the actuarial tables inexorably turn against me … sadly, against us all.

At 40, there’s a plausible argument to be made that half your lifespan has yet to pass. At 50, that’s no longer the case. Throughout human history, life expectancy has been far shorter than today, and the age of 50 indeed has often qualified as ancient. Some days I feel that way myself, others not so much. Mostly, in a condition embracing both exhaustion and bemusement, I’d like to think of whatever length of time remains as a triumphant sprint to the finish, not a downward spiral.

What does ancient rage have to do with my 50th?

I concede to seldom being an exemplar of peace, love and understanding. Since childhood, prime motivators have been indignation, disgruntlement, exasperation and annoyance; it says something when one’s favorite writer is H. L. Mencken. I’m neither proud nor ashamed by this. It’s my psyche, nothing more, nothing less.

During hormonal days of youth, I often felt consumed by anger to the exclusion of placidity and thoughtfulness. These episodes never manifested in physical violence; rather, my verbal and written abilities evolved in accordance with a compelling need to express previously inexpressible rage.

These outbursts have been directed against stupidity and cupidity, naked power and destructive greed – against fascists and corporations, despoilers of the environment and enslavers of peasants, chain restaurants and nasty light beer, and the sadness, superstition and desperation in life itself – and maybe, on widely scattered occasions, against my own fear, impotence and inability to go a bit further than fulminate against injustice and actually offer something to the wider world in return.

Self-doubt and inner turmoil are pitiless taskmasters, and I suspect they’ll always be unwelcomed companions. Yet, there is considerable happiness in arriving at 50 in good health, working in a growing business, enjoying the company of my mother, friends and family, and eager to give profuse thanks to my wife, my partner in life, who has been both tenderly loving and unsparingly honest in helping propel me to a new place where the rage seemingly recedes.

The principles and motivation haven’t subsided, and will not. There’ll be lapses, but “mad as hell” is a poor recipe for living. I don’t look back in anger at my ancient rage. Today is the best day, and tomorrow better still.

NABC in Douglas Wissing's “Indiana: One Pint at a Time” book.

Indiana craft brewers must be brewing something right, because numerous books are being written about beer in the Hoosier State.

First up: Rita Kohn and "True Brew" in New Albany on August 7th. You buy it, she signs it, and we'll all enjoy a Progressive Pint.

But there's more to come.

New Albany brewery praised in Indiana brewery book; Author of ‘One Pint at a Time’ coming to New Albany Sept. 18, by Daniel Suddeath (Tribune).

NEW ALBANY — The latest book published by the Indiana Historical Society Press features the New Albanian Brewing Co.

“Indiana: One Pint at a Time” was written by Douglas Wissing, of Bloomington, and focuses on craft breweries throughout the state, while also paying homage to the roots of Indiana brewing, which date back to 1816. Located at 415 Bank Street, NABC’s Bank Street Brewhouse and its Public House and Pizzeria at 3312 Plaza Drive receive some ink from Wissing.

I contributed an awkward quote to this story, using the word "cared" sloppily. My intent was to contrast what's I've perceived as Doug's more comprehensive historical approach with Rita's "as it is now oral history" overview. Apologies if my words mislead; inelegance typically ensues when one is harried and hurried. I expect both books to be great, and I'm looking forward to a third, by John Holl, slated for publication next spring.

As noted in the Tribune article title, Doug's coming to the NABC Pizzeria & Public House on Saturday, September 18, for a discussion and book signing. Further information will be forthcoming. You can purchase the books then, or see Destinations Booksellers in New Albany, our co-sponsor for the signing.

A tale of two columns.

21 June update: This round goes to the Liteweights, as Mr. Mug Shot is no more.

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“You do not change what I write!"
-- John Reed, played by Warren Beatty, in the 1981 movie "Reds"

I write a weekly general interest column for the New Albany Tribune, a fortnightly beer column for Louisville Eccentric Observer (LEO), and a quarterly beer column for Food & Dining magazine.

To greater or lesser extent, I maintain two blogs: NA Confidential (life in New Albany) and Potable Curmudgeon (life in the beer business).

Generally speaking, I’ll provide a link to the Tribune column each week on Thursday at NA Confidential, and a link to the LEO column every other week on Wednesday at Potable Curmudgeon. Since Food & Dining does not maintain an active web archive, those articles are published in their entirety at Potable Curmudgeon on a delayed basis.

This week, the LEO and Tribune links are running together, following this explanation. If you follow my periodic ranting on Facebook, you already know the reason, and therein lies a story.

Basically, the top brass at LEO proposed to censor the column I wrote for publication this week, citing my reference to my own business (necessary to tell the story, and also offered to readers sans the establishment’s actual name) and my mention of Miller Lite (even when humorously altered, and even when it was the specific product mentioned by my on-line critic).

This presumably happened because roughly two years ago, the Louisville branch of Anheuser-Busch Thin-Skinned 800-lb Multinational complained about something I wrote; former LEO editor Cary Stemle thought so little of it that he didn’t even tell me until much later, but those who've subsequently occupying his chair evidently have established a new policy, paraphrased:

One mustn’t tout feel-good real beer and craft beer culture by harmful and factual comparison to bad beer and the excesses of macro beer culture, and one mustn’t offend any potential advertisers, because even though we at LEO egregiously attack errant nitwit politicians, mountaintop removal companies and wretched taste in popular culture, those entities probably weren’t planning on advertising with us, anyway, and after all, beer’s amusing, but not really important enough to waste anyone’s personal integrity defending.

I’m exaggerating just a bit -- a wee bit -- although that’s the gist of it.

I spent about five minutes pondering the blatant hypocrisy, shrugged, withdrew the column, added a few words to bring it to 900, and resubmitted it as the weekly Tribune column, where it appears today, entirely uncensored, courtesy of a local newspaper that in this case possesses far bigger balls than LEO’s, which will continue to term Jim Bunning a son-of-a-bitch while prohibiting (for example) earnest and revealing commentary on a nefarious corporation (A-B InBev) that currently seeks legal changes to deny craft brewers self-distribution in Illinois.

But what the hey: You want someone to take down Justin Bieber or Rand Paul, you know exactly where to look.

Meanwhile, I wrote a completely different LEO column, and within it cleverly insulted a LEO advertiser (the carpetbagging Top of the Hops beer festival) without anyone at the office catching it. As Steely Dan once noted, "Throw out the little ones/And pan fry the big ones/Use tact, poise and reason/And gently squeeze them."

Because so many people have told me that they read and enjoy the LEO column, I’ll continue to submit whatever emasculated Pablum the staff desires, make it as relevant as I can to a real world denied my scrutiny by the Man/Woman, and go on cashing my checks -- even if I have to take a shower after each cha-ching.

As for the Tribune: Thanks, guys. In the year and a half I’ve been submitting columns, only once in my memory has Steve "Coach K" Kozarovich overruled me, and that was in May of 2009 when I proposed to run four consecutive East German travel epics. He was right that time, and the Tribune is far better than it used to be.

In the Tribune, June 17: BAYLOR: Still killing: The scourge of L.I.D.S.

In LEO, June 16: Mug Shots: It’s Christmas in July

Photo credit

Today's Tribune column: "Light beer? It’s from right here."

It figures that this would be the place to foist light beer on the planet. Poor planet ...

BAYLOR: Light beer? It’s from right here

In 1910, the German-language Louisville Anzeiger newspaper praised Augustus Tusch of neighboring New Albany.

“Herr Tusch is a lager brewer of great repute whose cleanliness and quality is of the highest order, with barrels filled and delivered fresh within the astounding radius of ten blocks from his business address.”

Local beer, local food, local wine ...

NABC rated a mention in the Sunday edition of the New Albany Tribune: Go Local week urges residents to support local producers.

And that is exactly what the Purdue University Extension agency is trying to create more of with Go Local Indiana week, which starts today. Its aim is to get residents to support local businesses and producers, and the local economy — in addition to recognizing all the great things Indiana has to offer.

NABC in the local newspaper.

New Albany Tribune reporter Daniel Suddeath did a nice job with this article in yesterday's newspaper.

NABC to open downtown New Albany Brewhouse by fall

I think John's comments about cans may have been in jest, because it makes more sense to me to have bombers, but in fact we really haven't decided yet about small-scale bottling and canning options. The big thing's the draft.

I'll try to have a more detailed update within the next few days. At the moment, it's mostly about bucks and where to find them.

A local perspective can improve on a .143 batting average.

On the one hand, I’m appreciative whenever New Albany’s newspaper, the Tribune, chooses to run a story about beer. Just such an article appeared in today’s Sunday edition as part of a “lifestyle” section, and while it isn’t archived at the Tribune’s own site, you can read it here courtesy of the Duluth News Tribune:

Now’s the time to savor winter ales, by Peter M. Gianotti (Newsday).

When the ground turns white, the brews go dark. It’s time for malty wintry ales. There are plenty good choices, most at $12 or less for a six-pack …

On the other hand, while I can’t speak for Duluth, of the seven beers cited in the article, only one can be purchased within the state of Indiana (Flying Dog K-9 Cruiser).

How much use is a 195-word article about “malty wintry ales” from upstate New York, Maine and Pennsylvania when Indiana readers are unable to sample the beers mentioned?

Obviously, I could have written a piece in like fashion. So could Todd Antz from Keg Liquors. Either of us could offer examples of the genre that a reader could actually purchase and taste.

Which is exactly what I’ll do in this space on Monday.

"If Your Mother Says She Loves You, Check It Out."

Last Friday afternoon, as I labored outside in the infuriating, unseasonable heat and humidity (90+ degrees F. in October) to prepare our house for the annual harvest Homecoming parade party on Saturday, my cell phone rang.

It was the friendly newspaper reporter for the New Albany Tribune, and seeing as he was providing the opportunity to take a break … could I tell him a bit about NABC’s proposed brewery expansion?

Well, honestly, the idea was just coming to the stage of transferring thoughts from pencil and scraps of paper to word processor, but if he wouldn’t mind it being exceedingly vague, I’d be happy to oblige.

Fine, he said; after all, it’s just for the paper’s “business wrap,” which usually takes up two paragraphs at the most, and on page three by the lingerie ads.

I told him what could be revealed at this very early stage of the game, cautioning that the whole thing was as prematurely nebulous as could be imagined, and then I went off to scrub toilets and forgot all about it.

That is, until Saturday morning, when the following appeared on page one:

Baylor planning brewery for downtown New Albany

New Albanian Brewing Co. proprietor Roger Baylor confirmed Friday he intends to renovate a downtown building with room to triple the brewing capacity of his uptown headquarters.

Geez.

It’s all good, and any publicity is good publicity – heaven knows I milk the system as often as possible – but I really must object to the headline. It’s the New Albanian Brewing Company that (I hope) will be coming to downtown, not just me. For the record, my partners are named Amy Baylor and Kate Lewison; either I give their names to people who don't repeat them, or I'm not asked at all, and it isn't fair.

At any rate, the basic information is there, and if it makes very little sense, that’s because (a) it’s hard to reduce 15 minutes of conversation into a few hundred words, and (b) I we’re at a very early and prematurely nebulous stage of the game.

First, we need to get through the remainder of the year, but yes, an expansion plan is on the drawing board. If you are a banker, please let me know. Otherwise, stay tuned.