From 2010: "Weights, measures, short pours, long odds and Little Big Pints."

Before PourGate, and prior to Bank Street Brewhouse's Indiana Statutory Compliance Restaurant Menu, there was the Great Short Pour Scandal of 2010. 

To be honest, I'd forgotten about it, and I cannot recall hearing of any follow-ups in the years since. In retrospect, it seems particularly ludicrous -- but aren't most bureaucratic hair-splitting contests?

From August 25, 2010, as originally published as a "Wednesday Weekly" column ...

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Weights, measures, short pours, long odds and Little Big Pints.

NABC’s Pizzeria & Public House was twice visited last week by Floyd County’s recently installed local weights and measures inspector. His stated reason for knocking on our door was a complaint he had received to the effect that we were not offering full pours of beer.

Consequently, in order to comply with the letter of the law in a place that seldom enforces any of them, we shall continue pouring draft beer as we always have, while recalibrating the way we’ve spoken about our draft business for 18 complaint-free years, as we learn new ways to describe what we're pouring by speaking in vague shades of linguistic, liquid content.

Perhaps a bit of history is in order.

18 years ago, when Rich O’s Public House became the first-ever Floyd County bar business to boast of serving draft Guinness, we decided to make Imperial pints our default pour size, because they’re the proper glass to use for Guinness and other ales in the traditions of the British Isles.

We’ve purchased hundreds off cases of them since then. The glass itself contains approximately 20 ounces if it is filled all the way to the top. Some say it is closer to 19.2 ounces, reflecting differences in measurement between Queen and Colonies. Of course, we’ve seldom filled them all the way to the top, allowing for a proper head of foam.

Some years later, after numerous Gravity Head fests, the gradual expansion of the number of taps, a steady stockpiling of glasses and an evolution in our thinking, we added half-sized Imperials to the glassware mix. They hold approximately 10 ounces if filled all the way to the top.

Most of the signature German and Belgian glasses we use are designed to accommodate the head floating above an etched pour line, usually denoting a half-liter (16.9 oz) for German glasses, and roughly 10 ounces (circa 33 cl) for Belgians. We’ve often joked about how almost all German and Belgian pours end up over the line, thus providing the consumer with an ounce or two more beer.

Ironically, as I now understand it since the weights and measures pow wow, it is acceptable to over-pour, not under-pour, although I can envision the Alcohol and Tobacco Commission objecting to over-pouring as an invitation to inebriation, while the weights and measure department eyeballs us for deceptive under-pouring. I wonder which regulatory agency has primary jurisdiction with such matters – not that I really want to know.

Anyway, according to the weights and measures inspector, the issue is what we say we’re pouring, and what actually is poured. In the beginning, we billed our Imperial pints as … “Imperial pints”. Later, in an effort to be clear about the amount, we began describing them as “20-oz pints”. Still later, they became “20-oz pours”, as described in the menus and on the chalkboards.

The half-sized glasses are 10 ounces, and underwent a similar descriptive trajectory. In none of this did we ever seek to do more than provide approximate information to the consumer; the idea was to let people know that they’d be getting certain size glasses for certain beers. First and foremost, the important consideration to me is that regular customers are satisfied that they receive value for their pours, and are not being cheated (see “18 complaint-free years” above). My conscience is clean on this count.

However, as became evident last week, it seems that a few 8-ounce glasses sneaked into the glassware mix, and someone apparently objected. Was this really necessary? I think not. I haven’t regularly tended bar in quite some time, but surely nothing has changed since the days when I’d regularly offer patrons a top-off if the pour amount seemed too low, and so if the customer in question had inquired, I’m sure he or she would have received an ounce or two of beer as fair compensation.

Furthermore, it strikes me as profoundly strange that the complaint was directed not to the ATC, seemingly the first port of call for any tavern-related issue, but to an obscure inspector with the local weights and measures department, an office that few people even know exists.

So, what tasks does an Indiana weights and measures inspector normally performs? They come down to two primary functions in today’s world: Checking the accuracy of gasoline pumps, and seeing that scales in places like delicatessens and supermarkets are correct. An inspector can, indeed, measure virtually anything, although the law is purposefully vague about it.

When not otherwise provided by law, the county or city inspector of weights and measures shall have the power within the county or city to inspect, test, try and ascertain if they are correct, all weights, scales, beams, measures of every kind, instruments or mechanical devices for measurement and the tools, appliances or accessories, connected with any or all such instruments or measurements used or employed within the county or city by any proprietor, agent, lessee or employee in determining the size, quantity, extent or measurement of quantities, things, produce, articles for distribution or consumption offered or submitted by such person or persons for sale, for hire or award.

Beware, coal and ice dealers – don’t think you can slide past!

The division of weights and measures, the division's agents, deputies, or inspectors, and the county and city inspectors of weights and measures may go into or upon without formal warrant any stand, place, building or premises, or may stop any vender, peddler, junk dealer, coal wagon, ice wagon, or any dealer, for the purpose of making the proper test and for the purpose of ascertaining the proper weights and measures of all commodities found therein or thereon.

Our weights and measures inspector, seemingly a nice man, confided that his predecessor evidently had not set foot in a bar or restaurant for 23 years, a precedent now shattered, as I believe he’ll want to visit all such establishments to avoid giving the impression that we’re being singled out for scrutiny.

Be that as it may, the verdict was delivered: We must not try to offer approximate consumer information, only scientifically precise consumer information. In the absence of exact certainty, we must resort to the shifting sand of semantics. If we cannot pour exactly 20 ounces of liquid, we cannot make reference to it being a 20-ounce glass, or an Imperial pint, which implies a 20-ounce glass.

However, we can continue to pour the same amount of beer into the same glassware, referring to the larger one as “large,” “big,” “grande,” or simply pint. Why pint? As the inspector explained, “pint” in America is understood to mean a 16-ounce measure, and because we’d be using larger Imperial glasses, and pouring the same way as we always have, there’d always be a bit more than 16 ounces. The same reasoning goes for “small,” “little,” “pequeño,” or simply “half-pint.” It’s okay to pour more – not less.

Somewhere, another Publican shrugs.

Note that in all of this, we are being offered the admittedly attractive option of continuing to pour beers exactly as we have for the past 18 complaint-free years, only with the slightly unattractive caveat of adjusting the language used to describe the glassware so that it is less descriptive than before.

In other words, our rebuke at the hands of the weights and measures inspector has the result of compelling us to offer less accurate consumer information, rather than more.

If that’s the government’s goal, I surrender. Cue the full-throated chorus of the entire population of New Albany, and hear this rousing response: “WHATEVER.”

If the government wishes us to be creative with words, we’ll happily be creative with words. It’s really fine by me, because I’m a big advocate of words in their infinite varieties. Employee re-education surely can be transformed into an entertaining and expansive experience, in that how many different languages (and alphabets!) can we find words for “large” and “small”?

If we post these mandated words in Russian, Japanese or Chinese, we’ll be complying with the law, as there is no mention in the Indiana statute of the default language used to signify these particular content concepts. We might elect to use pictograms. Would Braille suffice for non-visually impaired patrons?

Suggestions?

Move to the metric system?

Consult the Klingon dictionary?

Send comments and tips to me at the usual location. If I am to be annoyed and harassed by such occurrences, I intend to get a hearty laugh out of it.

And I am. I'll still be laughing when the next bureaucrat comes to visit.

Wednesday Weekly: At long last, the millstone is reformed.

(Apologies; I've been too damned busy to write Wednesday Weekly, but the election's over, I lost, and it's time to get back to it)

I’ll confess to having written next to nothing about our momentous reform of the guest bottle list at the Pizzeria & Public House since January at the most recent.

There has been a very good reason for my silence, primarily that the list itself has not been ready for prime time. There’s been nothing to write, but now it is finished.

As with most such ideas, this one has been far easier in the conceptualization phase than when it comes to actualizing in the real world.

Back around December and January, I made an effort to preview the new list here at the blog, and even this had to be suspended owing to the number of times we made changes. In turn, the changes were necessitated by the dizzying speed with which beers have been coming and going, into Indiana and then back out.

Recall that for a beer brewed out of state to be legally available through Indiana wholesaling channels, there must be a distribution agreement in place. If you’ve been reading the headlines, you already know that the pace of change has been frenetic, as some craft brewers contract while others expand.

(Indiana brewers are permitted to self-distribute, which is why you’re seeing Sun King cans on the new list … but I digress)

To illustrate, let’s review. The reform was explained here: Wednesday Weekly: The milestone of reforming a millstone.

To reiterate, the main bottled beer list must be a consistent, readily obtainable, everyday guide to the panoply of world beer styles as defined by the BJCP.

That’s Beer Judge Certification Program, by the way.

It has been a herculean task to sort through available beers, first to find ones that fit the BJCP’s style categories and sub-categories (we’re trying to teach, after all), and then to keep our choices fixed as availability waxed and waned, but I’m pleased to announce that whenever the physical, paper lists arrive from the printer, hopefully tomorrow, we’re finished.

The Pizzeria & Public House bottle list now will include roughly 125 beers (presumably) available on an everyday basis. We’ve tried to skew the list toward American craft beer where possible, because that’s the idea. However, plenty of good European choices remain.

These will be augmented by a rotating list of seasonals and specials comprising perhaps 20 more. At the beginning, there’ll still be previous stocks of beers destined for selling through, and some good deals therein. Look for these on the blackboards.

Next, we get to work on Cider, Meads and Lambic. The selections of Cider and Mead will be consistent and uniform.

Lambic is a different story, as most of the ones I like come from Shelton Brothers, which still is not distributing in Indiana. A certain number of vintage dated Lambic brands will be offered until they’re gone. By then, maybe reason will have prevailed.

The one thing I said we’d do that isn’t coming down immediately is this: Style Council. It is slated to be a “drink all the selections on the list, get your name on the wall of foam” type of promotion, and it still is scheduled to occur, except that first, we want staff to be comfortable with the new arrangement, and have a chance to cull and update the reformed bottle list, since change is the only constant. Style Council is likely to begin by summer.

Thanks for your patience, and once we get underway, please give me your feedback. I’m considering periodic public meetings along the lines of Office Hours, at which we’ll entertain suggestions for changes and improvements, and (of course) drink the available options.

Wednesday Weekly: "Neither a pundit nor a poet be."

You may have noticed that I go through these periods when there’s precious little time to actually write about beer. Admittedly, this is problematic, because presumably, that’s why many folks pay attention to this space in the first place.

The lamentable fact is that it’s hard to function as a beer pundit when the beer business at NABC takes up so much of my time, but moreover, as the nature of beer punditry continues to change so quickly and profoundly.

Yesterday I was conversing with my cellar-keeping, beer managing NABC assistants, Ben and Eric, and we decided to check www.beeradvocate.com for information on a particular nationally distributed beer. We perused a dozen or so reviews submitted by samplers from disparate geographical locations, and our verdict came in the form of a question: Are you sure you all were reviewing the same beer?

In short, we viewed multiple opinions without really coming close to answering our question.

Of course, an opposing phenomenon occurs frequently, whereby these proliferating beer reviews seem to have been freely borrowed from each other, with random words changed to evoke the stray possibility of originality, like so many school kids copying off the papers of others.

I’m not disparaging anyone’s enthusiasm or good intentions, and generally support democratization of zealous attachment, and yet I must simply observe that there really doesn’t seem to be a shared foundation for beer punditry when it comes to the vastness of the Internet and the bases of explication therein. Even my thoughts here are not original, and plenty of like discussions have occurred, ones that I may be unconsciously plagiarizing.

Perhaps confusion of choice has outpaced any means of precision of quantification.

As I’ve insisted, it’s the Golden Age of Beer, and there are thousands of breweries, styles, beers and preferences in America alone to sift through in search of pleasure and enlightenment. Thirty years ago, it was far, far easier for Michael Jackson to write concisely about the smaller number of American breweries, and about those world beers that were exported. Similarly, it was easier for three major television networks to decide what constituted news and what didn’t, and to have all the music news worth reporting come from two major print publications.

Consequently, it seems that localization as it pertains to beer appreciation is a schizophrenic concept, at least for me. As the beer universe expands exponentially, I become increasingly interested in the parts of it nearest to me, my home and my business. As it explodes all over the map, I want to embrace the ones at the grassroots, right here, and see more of them flower.

Accordingly, I become increasingly obsessed with how all of these considerations apply to craft brewing gaining market share in my community, where five percent penetration would constitute a veritable apocalypse. Is it the rejection of genuine flavor on the part of those who’ve never experienced it? Is it price point alone? Have we not truly grasped the invisible hand of brand loyalty as it affects a Bud Man? Is it a matter of class and socialization? Would more education do the trick? Are all of the above true, at the same time?

This is my brain today. Tomorrow, it may be different. Am I a strategist, a pundit, a carnival barker, a politician or just a beer lover punching above my weight class? Does it matter? Too many questions, not enough answers … but a nice hoppy ale is never very far away.

Wednesday Weekly: "What Tyrone Slothrop has to do with Gravity's Head."

The 13th edition of Gravity Head begins on Friday morning. This year’s theme is “A Stacked Deck is Gravity’s Rainbow,” and I’ve been asked to explain what it means.

This will not be easy. After undertaking an explanation last evening at the Bank Street Brewhouse bar, I was told that my tale is a fiesta of non sequiturs, a description that is quite flattering.

For one thing, coming up with graphic designs and accompanying wordplay is getting harder as the years pass by. Late in 2010, as what passes for a brain trust at NABC convened to brainstorm, our brainlessness became evident. The initial thought was to look for ideas connected to the number 13, semi-universally regarded as unlucky.

Web searches yielded the first clue: Tarot cards; specifically the card for 13, marked DEATH, and featuring a medieval-looking robed skeleton atop a horse. In fact, the archaic appearance of these commonly accepted images is a ruse of sorts. Those tarot cards in widest circulation, which most of us have seen, actually were designed around 1900 by a woman in England; oddly, the original plates are said to have been destroyed in the Blitz during WW II.

I suggested substituting the word “GRAVITY” for “DEATH,” and NABC’s graphics wizard Tony Beard said he’d get to work on it. Calendar pages commenced turning, the usual pre-Gravity Head preparations continued, but we were without a coherent, overarching theme.

At some point therein, I was asked by my bride if I really ever understood the concepts of Tarot, or the meanings of the cards, and I had no response save for an admission of negligence. In fact, the only aspects of Tarot that appealed to me were the images. In this instance, I like to watch. She graciously referred me to a handful of sources, one of which resonated.

"(It) does not mean physical death. Rather, the Death card portrays symbolic death-a change or transformation. Often, it heralds the end of a familiar or more comfortable mode. It conveys a release which is necessary for growth and expansion. Perhaps it even brings a whole new set of principles which will guide you spiritually, emotionally, psychologically or financially."

Now, there’s a genuine coincidence. For months, I’ve been boring the cast and crew with recitations of epiphanies pertaining to the beer program at the Public House & Pizzeria, and imagining this great upheaval, a profound leap forward, the future of American craft beer … and here are perfect visual and philosophical metaphors, as embodied by a genre I’d always ignored.

Meanwhile, Tony was thinking about Slim Pickens – not the late character actor’s memorable scene in Blazing Saddles, in which he sent riders back to get a shitload of dimes for the desert toll booth, but Pickens’ single greatest achievement: Riding the atom bomb to oblivion near the conclusion of Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove.

Hence, the Gravity Head rider atop the barrel, apocalyptic imagery grafted onto a Tarot card, toasting the existence of the earth’s inexorable law, and following on the heels of our claim last year that while Newton discovered gravity, NABC perfected it. Tony added the mysterious mixed touch of XIII.5, because if there can be no 13th floor, there can’t be a 13th Gravity Head, either.

But what about a tag phrase?

Most card-playing clichés are applicable to games of chance, as opposed to the ritual of Tarot. You can deal from the bottom of the deck, misdeal, re-deal, mark the cards … or you can stack the deck. Indeed, as it pertains to the vicissitudes of life – the chosen domain of Tarot – we often say that the deck is stacked against us, so “stacked deck” seemed appropriate for the Gravity Head symbolism in 2011.

Now we come full circle to the Blitz.

Huh?

Having originated the quest for Gravity Head identity with a deathly Tarot card image that perished with Al Bowly in the Blitz, Tony duly incorporated cinematic history spiced with common numerical superstition, and I saw the design for the first time. My first reaction upon glimpsing this gumbo of influences was two words: Thomas Pynchon.

His infamous novel, Gravity’s Rainbow, cannot be briefly described. Some would say it barely can be read, although I’ve managed to do it with a little help from my friends and a reader's guide, of which many exist. Following is one fan's view of Gravity’s Rainbow.

It is a Jeremiad, an encyclopaedia of cultural minutiae, an historical novel, a catalogue of operas, an anatomy of illicit perversions and mindless pleasures, a book in which you are as likely to read an equation describing the gyroscopic stabilizers of a V-2 rocket as you are to find a Porky Pig cartoon. Coprophilia and rooftop Banana gardens exist in a singularly bizarre harmony, repelling and enticing in equal measure.
Suffice to say that among these elements (and non sequiturs) are matters of content vaguely reminiscent of the lunacy prefacing the concept of Gravity Head’s XIII.5th edition. Oddly, it all makes sense to me. It may make even more sense to you midway through Friday’s opening day festivities.

See you at breakfast.

Wednesday Weekly: "Beer and council."

Glad to hear you’re running for city council. You should make grade-school promises of your beer filling the water fountains.
-- Evan

Prior to 2004, local politics and municipal governance were not among my preferred topics. I could have provided a six-hour lecture on European beer history with numerous examples, and still not been able to name a single New Albany elected official other than the mayor.

As of tomorrow, I’ll be running as a Democrat for an at-large seat on the city council. The primary is on May 3. With a top three finish, I’ll go through to the general election in November, when voters choose three from a field of six candidates, divided evenly between Democrats and Republicans.

If you live within the city limits of New Albany, kindly consider voting for me, please. One of the reasons for running at-large is that there are many more people living citywide with whom I’ve shared good times and beers in the past than in my home district alone. At least, it strikes me as a reasonable assumption.

On Thursday there’ll be a link to my last column in the New Albany Tribune, where my musings will be on hiatus until the election results are final. My other blog seems the appropriate place to comment on the daily sensation of office-seeking, and so it’s my guess that the routine here will proceed as normal. It isn’t like I can take a leave of absence from work for campaigning. I wouldn’t even if I could.

As the accompanying photo plainly shows, I'm no graphic designer, but the notion of melding left-leaning politics with Progressive Pints always has appealed to me, although there is little purpose in arguing about whether the craft beer revolution is inherently left or right. My intellectual fermentables are brewed to one set of influences. Yours might well be different.

Mayor and now Governor John Hickenlooper might actually combine the two – or not: High hopes for one of our own in Colorado, fewer for the same tired faces in New Albany.

The NABC company logo may have to be removed from the pint glass, but maybe the keg lifter can stay. As I have been reminded, a kilt lifter might be a more clever reference in my working world, but there's already a beer by that name, and I’d hate to risk campaign copyright infringement.

Do I have a chance? I think so, at least in the primary, and more so if I can order a few additional “These Machines Kill Fascists” tees so that they can be a part of the daily campaign (by bicycle) wardrobe.

Whether I advance or not, it’s worth noting that already two local ministers, one of whom is a supporter of a group called Reclaim Our Culture Kentuckiana (ROCK), have filed to run as Republicans. They’ll be unopposed in the primary.

Why does this matter? Imagine ROCK as a sort of regional Moral Majority, leading crusades against various forms of wickedness as defined by their narrow Biblical interpretation, and trust me when I say that among the many “cultural” conditions the organization would like to “reclaim” is the halcyon era of Prohibition. It is the inexorable direction that all such extremist groups travel.

Elected or defeated, it is a personal priority to oppose ROCK's efforts. Craft beer excites me. Violations of church-state separation enrage me. Remember that.

I’ve spoken quite a lot lately about the arc of my epiphany. Steadily over a time, I’ve been drawn into re-examining almost every assumption about being in the beer business, and many, perhaps all, of these dialectics are intimately connected with a sense of place and the community in which we live and work. My business helps the community, and the community prefaces the business. All of it fits together, although I’m not always sure how. Now’s the time to keep pushing, and see where this path leads. Maybe it’s up, and maybe down. It might lead nowhere. But I’ve already been involved, and the step seems logical.

As the county clerk told me, “Why not? You go to most of the meetings anyway.”

Progressive Pints as strategy and tactics? Why not?

Take it away, Vincent.

No Wednesday Weekly last week, nor this week. Apologies.

Just for the sake of housekeeping, you didn't miss last week's Wednesday Weekly column because there wasn't one. There won't be one this week, either, because I simply have too much going on to write, and it's tacky to keep posting reruns.

I hope to be back next week, perhaps (finally) with a formal column name for the new year.

Wednesday Weekly: "To Heck with Rants (Part Two)"

Continued from here: Wednesday Weekly: "To Heck with Rants (Part One)"

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NH: There’s also a nouveau riche thing going on with craft beer. It seems to be all about ostentatious display of IBU’s, ABV, etc., etc. It’s the whole Double Black Barrel-Aged IPA, beer mad lib thing that is completely boring to me. Communities like Beer Advocate advocate that phenomenon more than they advocate the full spectrum of beer appreciation. And just like the arms race brewers have to out “extreme” each other, dudes who review beers do the same thing.

RB: There is no such thing as bad publicity when it comes to turning heads. Yet again, I refer to the educational mandate that we all ignore only at our peril. You say you’re not in favor of the reviewers, or the brand of preaching practiced at Beer Advocate? Fine, then start your own damned church, but don’t withdraw into a shell and decry all comments, because turtle shell marketing can’t help craft beer at all. AT ALL. Everyone on the inside has had our issues with entities like Beer Advocate, but just look at the work these entities do to attract potential patrons to our side of the street! Besides, recently I’ve been using Beer Advocate and Rate Beer quite a lot to compare and contrast their respective takes on beer style definition, not so I can flaunt my nouveau riche attitude (i.e., I’ve been around this for more than two decades without striking the mother lode), but because is it helpful to me as I seek ways of educating prospective adherents.

Have I mentioned the importance of education?

NH: No longer is it good enough to say that a beer has a citrusy aroma or a grapefruit hop nose. Now, it’s grapefruit “pith.” Really?! Pith?! Come on….save the pretentious “notes of vine-ripened figs, off-set by a pumpernickel bread crust and grapefruit pith” for the wine world! It’s friggin’ beer, people! ”I hand wash my chalice with spring water, an Indian cotton wash cloth and handmade soap and and store it on a pillow made of the finest crushed velvet between my tasting sessions.” Beer is social and beer is fun and sometimes drinking one out of a red plastic cup is perfectly awesome!

RB: For those unfamiliar with the straw man fallacy, it’s when one places the weakest possible argument in the mouth of his or her opponent, then happily dashes the artificially weak argument to shreds. Do some beer tasters take it too far? Of course they do. Does a better understanding of how and what we taste assist our appreciation of anything we eat and drink? Of course it does. Beer’s better consumed from a glass, and yes, red plastic will do in a pinch. Know the rules first … and then break them with equanimity.

NH: I’m also cynical about the whole “celebrity brewer” thing. And I know quite a few wanna-be celebrities in this area and they make my stomach turn and my eyes roll!

RB: I hate to be a kill-joy, but something needs to be said here: If you are brewing professionally, using a brewery system that presumably cost more than a few bucks, it’s more than technical expertise. It’s show business, and we’re all performing at one level or another. You need to get used to it. There are celebrities in every field of human endeavor, for the simple reason that people demand them, period. Quit whining and pick a shtick – before someone else does it first.

NH: The whole beer-food pairing thing is pretty lame, as well. Beer isn’t wine! Don’t have a geuze with nachos. “Ah…but I find that the notes of figs and grapefruit pith are the perfect complement to a braised leg of lamb and fingerling potatoes.” Give me a break… As a pub brewer, I suppose I should be more into the pairing thing, but I think it’s pretentious, ridiculous and adds nothing to the beer culture, except for pushing it ever closer to the wine world.

RB: “As a pub brewer, I suppose I should be more into the pairing thing” – stop right there, Nate. Apologies, but while it remains that as a brewpub owner myself, I’d never seek to prevent an employee from expressing opinions, I’d have you out in the woodshed over this section of his rant.

Why talk about beer with food when you own a brewpub? BECAUSE PEOPLE LIKE THAT, and it assists in marketing, and it helps convince people to step inside the tent, and if you’re brewing for me and can’t wrap your arms around doing what comes naturally with beer and food, okay, but you had best learn to be better damned actor than that. Beside, it’s the wine world’s job to come closer to beer, not the other way around.

NH: Let’s see…what else am I cynical about? Craft fans seem to ascribe a false virtue to the small brewers and false vice to the big brewers out there. We laud some brewers’ success and vilify others for theirs. And the argument usually, and ignorantly, falls along the lines of “the big guys don’t care about beer, only profit.” And, “I know Sam Calagione and/or Greg Koch makes beer because he’s passionate about it.” Try opening a brewery in San Diego or Wilmington and see just what a couple of swell guys Sam and Greg are! Craft fans have taken up the mantel that they are fighting the big guys out there. In reality, however, Mercury Brewing is competing more fiercely with the likes of Wachusett than they are with Anheuser-Busch. But, David versus Goliath is a much easier and intriguing tale to tell if you’re a small brewer, even if it’s not entirely correct.

RB: Nate, you’re absolutely and spectacularly wrong with the gist of this assertion, which is understandable for someone who doesn’t believe in marketing or related evangelism of any sort, because if you don’t believe it’s fitting and proper to try to convince a mass-market drinker to switch his or her approach, then you’ve no choice except to believe that craft brewers are fighting one another for market share, not taking it from the big multinational boys.

That’s illogical. The big boys control 90% or more of the market, and that’s growth territory for craft beer for decades to come. How have we, as a segment, even come this far? By doing all those things Nate Heck so vehemently dislikes. How do we make further inroads? By doing all those things Nate Heck vehemently dislikes.

Is a pattern beginning to develop?

The ultimately puzzling nature of Nate Heck’s rant lies in the fact that he seems to have paid no heed to any side of the craft beer business and marketing equation that exists outside the confines of the brewhouse, and as a result, he’s missing just a few very important components. If everything he’s cynical about were to be taken away from craft brewing, both he and I would be having this dialogue while standing behind the counter of the convenience store, where we both would be working, then breaking for a few MGDs out by the dumpster, probably without red plastic cups.

That’s all I have to say about it. If you wish, you can call me a nasty beer evangelist … and I hope to meet Nate Heck some day and try his beers.

Out of a glass, please.

Wednesday Weekly: "To Heck with Rants (Part One)"

(In two parts to make up for last week's blank spot)

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It has taken me more than ten days to write this column.

Seldom do I worry very much about how my words might be taken out in the world, but this time, a disclaimer seems merited, because I don’t want anyone to think that I’m overly denigrating Nate Heck, a brewer somewhere in the Eastern United States, and a fellow I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting.

I’m not knocking Nate, just disagreeing on a few central points, and perhaps learning something about the nature of capitalist division of labor – and my part in it – in the process.

You see, I’m mentioning Heck’s name here only because a few days ago, he managed to spark one of those brief Internet furors that flare into “trending, and then disappear into the cyber ether, way faster than you can drink a pint of gently carbonated cask Bitter (an overview is here).

Evidently, the brewer Heck was asked a question, responded with a long-suppressed rant, and subsequently the beer world (more accurately, those beer enthusiasts hanging out on-line) lined up to debate his rant’s numerous bullet points, because as rants go, it was a real beauty.

It will surprise no one who knows me that I’ve had some measure of experience inciting riots, perhaps less lately than in the past, when the beer world was so much smaller and it was easier to cop a profile on the fly. Consequently, I’m the last person on the planet who’d criticize anyone for speaking his or her mind, Nate Heck included.

But after reading his thoughts, what bothered me was that they kept on bothering me, and I couldn’t put a finger on why this was so. Something he said in his rant got to festering under my skin. What was it? A few dozen beers later, it has become slightly clearer to me.

Both Nate Heck and the Publican obviously give a damn about beer. No arguments there.

However, he’s a brewer, and I’m a brewery owner.

At first glance, you’d think this wouldn’t matter very much. Most of the time, it doesn’t. Vast and pervasive tracts of daily workplace experience are shared by brew house artisans and management, and yet ultimately, there is a difference in perspective; nothing like a chasm, but a difference nonetheless, and one perhaps best illustrated by my chosen job description.

My business card says “Carnival Barker,” not owner.

Whether I’m good at it or not, and I’ll freely admit that it’s a coin flip of a call on some days, my job as brewery owner extends beyond signing the paychecks, donating my house (more than once) for use by the bank as collateral, and sometimes even deigning to provide overall direction to the daily operations.

(If not for co-owners who do much of the dirty work, it’d get ugly.)

For better or worse, I’m also NABC’s central pitchman. Not only that, I’m the chief educator as well. In my opinion, if I’m the owner, and I’m not pitching the product and educating, I’m not doing my job.

Furthermore, if there is any one thing I’ve learned after twenty years, it’s that selling better beer stands alongside love and war, in the sense that all’s fair while undertaking it. Any tools you have to market your products, don’t hesitate to use them.

From the beginning, even when my natural shyness was sometimes a crippling impediment to overt public advocacy, I’ve thrown myself out in front crowds and curves, and tried my best to talk people into taking a peek inside our tent -- and if they like what they see and taste, to spend a bit of their hard-earned money while they’re here.

Because: No money coming in, no business … and no freshly brewed craft beer, either.

And so yes, while much of what Nate Heck “cynically” ranted makes sense, it makes less sense when you consider the inconvenient truth that if craft beer does not succeed as a business enterprise, it will not continue to exist as a generous gift to us from governmental subsidies, or materializing afresh after the wave of a magic wand from the Wizard of Good Beer.

We have to sell beer and grow the segment.

That’s the way it works, folks.

Here’s what Nate Heck wrote (in italics), followed by my response (in bold). In the spirit of the dialogue, natch.

NH: I have spent most of my adult life making beer. I love what I do and of course, I love beer. However, it seems like over the past few years, something has changed and I’m still trying to wrap my head around what it is exactly. I guess I’m cynical because I see a lack of appreciation for the history of brewing. Lots of people seem to think that craft brewing started when Sam Calagione started DFH, and believe that “Beer Wars” are the gospel truth about the beer industry and that Stone Brewing doesn’t market their beer.

RB: If people have misconceptions about history, whether history is taken to refer to brewing, the American Civil War or ancient Sumerian numismatics, the only way these misconceptions can ever be addressed is through education, a pursuit that rewards patience and constant repetition, among other necessary qualities. As with any teacher who is instructing in any discipline, enthusiasm about the subject matter is vital. Take the initiative, and take information to the customer.

NH: And that is also something I’m cynical about…the evangelical aspect of craft beer. People feel they have to convert the unwashed Bud drinking masses. Beer is not some binary thing. You can enjoy an ice cold PBR AND like Russian Imperial Stouts…at the same time! *Gasp!* The blasphemy!!!

RB: Teaching is evangelistic. I appreciate where Nate is trying to go, but his mistrust of evangelism is bizarrely short-sighted. Take away the evangelistic aspect of craft beer, and watch as market penetration declines (not increases) exponentially. Take away the evangelistic aspect of craft beer, and shed numerous jobs, perhaps even the ranter Heck’s own paid brewery position. Take away the evangelistic aspect of conversion, and lose much of the entire point of brewing different (better, more diverse) beer in the first place. Craft brewing is a business, but the beauty is that it can be a lifestyle, too. Evangelism and marketing are two ways of referring to the same process, whereby we invite those outside the tent to step inside and try our wares. It sells itself, but only up to a point.

Continued here: Wednesday Weekly: ""To Heck with Rants (Part Two)"

Wednesday Weekly: "Going native at Gravity Head 2011."

A funny thing happened on the way to Gravity Head 2011, which begins at 7:00 a.m. on February 25, and which will be our 13th such celebration of creative brewing’s outermost extremities.

Appropriately, although with little conscious forethought, we’ve managed to pre-order very few imported beers for Gravity Head. Actually, so few imports have been pre-ordered that only three are in stock at present, with no plans to up the number.

Perhaps we’ll serve these three (see below) at Gravity Head, and perhaps we will not, as 50 is the overall keg limit we’ve agreed to enforce, and if procurements run past that number, there’ll be bumpings and reassignments.

In fact, there may well be an All-American Lucky 13 Gravity Head in 2011. Upon closer examination, this suits me just fine.

Lest casual readers conclude that I’ve viciously turned against those same world classic beers which first made the Public House’s fame 20 years ago, be emphatically reassured that this is not the case. It’s just that the terms of engagement are being rewritten on a daily basis.

If you are just now tuning in to my ongoing mash-up, “What I Finally Learned in 2010,” the biggest lesson is a recent convergence of numerous threads of thoughts and experiences, into an overarching epiphany, one having artistic, conceptual, educational and fiscal antecedents and consequences.

In short: NABC’s investment in its own brewing operation obviously must be seen as an investment in American-made craft beer as a whole, not further delving into world-sourced beers, even if the latter remains a personal olfactory joy, and a fetish that I’ve no intention of abandoning. A choice is being made, and I feel good about it.

In 2011, come what may, I’m putting my mouth where my money is, and we’re transitioning the beer program at the Pizzeria & Public House to reduce our carbon footprint, lessen our reliance on imported beers, upgrade style education via a pared-down bottled beer list, and increase availability of good draft beer brewed close to us, whether our own building, Louisville metro or Indiana at large. Preferably, all three -- and more.

Now back to Gravity Head 2011, and an unprecedented absence of imports.

In previous years, I always made the effort to score appropriate imported brands, a task particularly well suited to my procurement skills, and one typically not outsourced to my hardworking assistants. However, in 2010, at roughly the same time of year normally devoted to intensive foraging, I began to feel a sense of terminal disillusionment with the prospect of not being able to successfully get the imports I wanted, when I wanted them, owing to (shall we say with utmost diplomacy) a certain disconnect in the line of Indiana-centric supply between importer, wholesaler and retailer.

I’m not being catty, even as I confess to some lingering bitterness. My epiphany simply cannot be explained without referencing the annoying realization that constantly banging my head against the wall would do nothing to remedy the disconnected situation beyond inflicting a concussion on myself – and who wants that? It’s all over now, it helped me to see, and it doesn’t matter who or what is to blame.

The only important consideration to me during the last quarter of 2010 was this: My initial preference to go full-tilt for a carefully selected, just-in-time lineup of the best imports, thus retaining the traditional balance between imported and domestic beer goodness at the Public House, increasingly was proving to be impossible to achieve. I could not expect to buy what I wanted, when I wanted it.

When it belatedly occurred to me that (a) this sort of disconnect was becoming steadily less of an impediment as it pertains to American-made craft beers, and (b) American-made craft beer was the reason we spent all that money in the first place, all the other pieces of the reform package puzzle quickly dropped into place.

Hence, imports dropped off my radar screen; I eagerly turned to formulating the parameters of the new beer program, and nothing was purchased for Gravity Head except American-made craft beers, which my assistants have proven quite capable of doing without prompting fro me.

And so, here we are with the first Gravity Head lineup preview of the year. There’ll be more to come on specific happenings scheduled for the fest’s run.

IN-STOCK/COMMITTED FOR GRAVITY HEAD 2011

We are committed to beginning Gravity Head 2011 with 50 listed beers. If we acquire more than that, some of these may be held until next year.

Vintage Dates: Only if we can verify that the beer in question is older than one year on February 25, 2011.

Key:
+ Brewers of Indiana Guild members
* Brewed in Kentuckiana
√ Imported

Provisional list:
√ Alvinne Podge Imperial Stout (firkin) 10.5%
*BBC (Main & Clay) Bearded Pat’s Barley Wine 2009 11%
*BBC (Shelbyville Road) Bourbon Barrel Wee Heavy 9.8%
*BBC (Shelbyville Road) Sam’s 'n' Adam's Bustin’ Lager
Bell’s Batch 9000 12.5%

Bell’s HopSlam 10%
Boulder Killer Penguin Barleywine 10%
Brooklyn Black Chocolate 10.6%
+Brugge Brasserie Quadripple 12%
Brooklyn Cuvee Noire 8.7%

Brooklyn Monster Ale 10.8%
Clipper City Heavy Seas Prosit! (Imperial Oktoberfest) 9%
+Crown Brewing (TBD)
Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA 2010 18%
Dogfish Head Burton Baton 2010 10%

Dogfish Head Worldwide Stout 2010 18%
Founders Backwoods Bastard 10.2%
Founders Black Biscuit 2010 10.5%
Founders Breakfast Stout 2009 8.3%
Founders Double Trouble 9.4%

Founders Devil Dancer 12%
Founders Imperial Stout 2009 10%
Founders Kentucky Breakfast Stout 2010 11.2%
Founders Nemesis 12%
+Great Crescent Bourbon’s Barrel Stout 8%

+Great Crescent Diabolicale 8%
Great Divide Espresso Oak-Aged Yeti 9.5%
Great Divide Oak-Aged Yeti 9.5%
Great Divide Old Ruffian Barley Wine 10.2%
√ Kulmbacher Eisbock 2010 9.2%

Left Hand Imperial Stout 10.4%
Left Hand Oaked Widdershins Barley Wine 2009 8.8%
*NABC/O’Fallon/Schlafly C2 Collaboration Ale 10.5%
+*NABC Jaxon (Barleywine) Circa 10%
*NABC Le Diable Blonde 2010 10.7%

+*NABC Thunderfoot 2010 11%
Rogue XS Russian Imperial Stout
Rogue XS Old Crustacean 2009 11.3%
√ Schneider Aventinus Eisbock 2010? 12%
Shmaltz He’Brew Jewbelation 13 2010 13%

Sierra Nevada Bigfoot 2001 9.6%
Sierra Nevada 30th Anniversary “Our Brewers Reserve” 9.2%
Stone Double Bastard 2009 10.5%
Stone Old Guardian 2010 11.3%
Stone Russian Imperial Stout 2009 10.8%

Stone Vertical Epic 10/10/10 9.5%
+Sun King Dominator Doppelbock 8.1%
+Sun King Russian Imperial Stout (oak-aged, coffee-infused)
+Three Floyds (TBA … expect more than one)
Two Brothers 2009 Bare Tree 11%

+Upland Teddy Bear Kisses Imperial Stout 10.2%
+Upland The Ard Ri 9.25%
+Wilbur Brewing Country Mellow (Scotch Ale) 8%

Wednesday Weekly: "Craft Beer Near the KFC Yum! Center."

My Wednesday Weekly today takes another trip into the Food & Dining magazine archives. The following (as originally submittted) appeared in F & D's fourth quarter 2010 edition. Forgive me for the craft establishment list not being exhaustive. When I wrote this piece three months in advance of publication, it was summertime. I'll do a follow-up when there's time!

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“We’re pleased to be by the KFC Yum! Center for several reasons, and one of the best reasons is that so far, it’s all local businesses – not corporate – starting up nearby. It’s great to have the hometown guys be able to take advantage of serving the people visiting the arena and the downtown area.”
--Pat Hagan, Bluegrass Brewing Company

Louisville lived through the debates and drawings, watched the earthmovers and cranes converge on what always seemed an impossibly small and compressed plot of ground for installing 22,000 seats, and now the city has its new downtown arena. The venue cannot lay claim to a professional basketball team as tenant, but most area residents regard the University of Louisville’s Cardinals as far outstripping the NBA in importance when it comes to the intensity of their rooting loyalties.

My game is beer, and I routinely cheer for the side that offers the best selection of American-made, craft-brewed elixirs for my drinking and contemplative pleasure. Whatever the future occasion at Louisville’s freshly minted indoor palace, from ballgames to rock concerts, and including origami conventions, Boy Scout conclaves and massed baptisms, there’ll have to be good beer somewhere close at hand, before, during or after the particular event, or else I’ll stay home.

(At this juncture, I must confess that herculean self-restraint is required to resist certain wisecracks about fried chicken that have been queuing within my fevered and skeptical cranium these past months. Perhaps they owe to previous stillborn arena plans in the late 1990’s, when the fast food corporation then known as Tri Con proposed to purchase the rights to name it the KFC Bucket. By contrast, KFC Yum! Center is vastly preferable, and very nearly tasteful.)

As might be expected, the months-long run-up to the KFC Yum! Center has impacted far more than craft beer choices. It has created opportunity in all directions, even across the Ohio River, in Jeffersonville, where city government approved a request to operate water taxi service. Two years of arena construction in the epicenter of downtown Louisville has helped buck the recession by spurring redevelopment, as with the Whiskey Loft condos a stone’s throw across Second Street, and producing an immediately noticeable ripple effect in food and dining options.

As the BBC’s Hagan notes above, virtually all of these venues, whether pre-existing refurbishments or new build-outs, are locally owned and operated. Happily, most of them reflect the steadily growing preference of consumers for choice in beer. Good beer is popping up everywhere in proximity to the Cards’ new home, and rather than attempt an exhaustive listing of nearby establishments, which can be handily viewed in the map section of this magazine, I’ve chosen to focus instead on my personal “top three new” craft beer emporiums closest to the new arena, these being major investments obviously enabled by it, and unlikely to have come to life without the arena’s impetus.

Bluegrass Brewing Company

In 1993, Bluegrass Brewing Company became the second Louisville brewpub of our contemporary era, following just a year after the now defunct Silo Brewery broke ground. Back then, the first task facing BBC’s owners, the Hagan family, was to renovate an existing restaurant building in St. Matthews to serve as BBC’s primary brewing and dining facility, which it remains today.

BBC’s second location on 4th Street at Theater Square (2006) also required some preparation work, although just as a restaurant and bar, and without a working brewery as part of the package. Neither of these buildings was more than twenty years old when BBC moved into them.

For the new Arena BBC (300 W. Main), directly south of the KFC Yum! Center, the ever industrious Hagans took on their most labor-intensive start-up project to date, and in a truly venerable structure. Dining, drinking and brewing space to the tune of $1.4 million now occupies the basement and first floor of the seven-story Louisville Orchestra Building, formerly known as the Kentucky National Bank, a splendid 120-year-old example of Richardsonian Romanesque architecture that is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Longtime BBC brewer Jerry Gnagy was there in late July, on duty, shoveling spent grain from the mash tun of a newly installed 15-barrel DME system. By September, the familiar starting lineup of BBC beers was flowing: American Pale Ale, Kolsch, Alt, Nut Brown, Dark Star Porter and Mead, alongside a handful of Gnagy’s idiosyncratic specialty brews, which double as ingredients in more than a few perennial menu favorites: Brewhouse Chili, Spinach and Artichoke Dip, Beer Cheese and the batter for fried fish, among others.

I asked Pat Hagan to describe BBC’s success. He replied, “We’ve won numerous awards for our beers, and always stuck to our mission statement: To create bold, unique beers, quality affordable food, and serve them in a comfortable, family friendly atmosphere.”

Hagan might have added: Now appearing across from a major downtown arena near you.

Kentucky Ale Tap Room

Adjectives come and go, and so in the interest of brevity, I’ll describe the collegiate rivalry between the University of Louisville and the University of Kentucky merely as “intense,” omitting various R-rated references. The first game between the UK Wildcats and the U of L Cards on the new home court of the Cards is slated for December 31, and craft beer lovers will note the irony being served on tap at tip-off.

That’s because the Alltech corporation inked a sponsorship agreement naming the sports bar on the arena’s main concourse after its house craft beer: The Kentucky Ale Tap Room, and, Kentucky Ale is brewed by Alltech’s Lexington Brewing & Distilling Company in Lexington, Kentucky, home of the University of Kentucky. However, there is far more to the Alltech story than clean, crisp ales, seemingly created as ideal accompaniments to epochal basketball contests.

Alltech, headquartered in Nicholasville, Kentucky, is a private, family-owned company with worldwide reach, specializing in natural ingredients used in animal, alcohol and food production, many of them involving the use of yeasts in manufacturing. It is because of this direct connection with fermentation science, the animating microorganisms of the beer world, and the Irish background (brewers as well as coopers) of Alltech’s colorful founder, Dr. Pearse Lyons, that brewing and distilling joined his business’s existing portfolio.

According to Jeremy Markle, Kentucky Ale’s one-man whirlwind of a Louisville sales staff, Alltech’s community commitment extends beyond craft beer in the Yum! Center, as attested by sponsorship of the World Equestrian Games earlier in the year, and partnerships with Louisville’s Muhammad Ali Center and Kosair Children’s Hospital.

Furthermore, Markle believes the Kentucky Ale Tap Room just might be a first in the entire nation. “As far as I know,” he says, “sponsorship of a major sports and entertainment venue by a local independent brewer is unprecedented.”

Alltech’s three year-round beers are Kentucky Ale, Kentucky Light, and Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale, and they’re being be sold both within and outside of the arena’s signature tap room.

“Our products will be available on draft at multiple locations throughout the arena, including general concessions and mobile kiosks,” Markle explains. “The centerpiece Kentucky Ale Tap Room will be located on the main concourse at the north side of the arena. It will be the perfect spot to watch the game or concert, enjoy the river view, and never have to step more than a few feet away from good local craft beer on tap.”

There is no food served at the Kentucky Ale Tap Room, although arena concession stands are located nearby.

Patrick O’Shea’s Public House

In terms of technology and architectural design, as well as aesthetic appeal, the KFC Yum! Center symbolizes the cutting edge, a culmination of many interwoven, longstanding ideas and themes that have predated it.

The same is true for the new generation of American craft beer: Jerry Gnagy’s recipes for BBC incorporate centuries of brewing lessons painstakingly learned, and yet they’re now brewed in a sleek, proficient modern brewery, and with today’s far-ranging consumer tastes in mind.

Patrick O’Shea’s Public House, located at 123 West Main Street (a half-block east of the Yum! Center) is another example of the past rushing headlong into the present. It is an epic, crowning achievement, and the culmination of the O’Shea family’s prolific and successful half-century of hospitality in the food and drink business.

While deriving from all that has come before it, Patrick O’Shea’s is an instant present-day downtown landmark, both for its scale in the context of local ownership, and its adaptive reuse of an imposing historic structure on Whiskey Row, where sadly, the dilapidated east side of the block is threatened with demolition. Long recognized for his pubs and their philanthropic endeavors, Tom O’Shea now has become the darling of preservationists, and it’s easy to see why.

Patrick O’Shea’s is a joyous sensory overload. There is a tea room and huge custom-built bar; tin ceilings, balustrades and skylights; sturdy exposed masonry and stolid ceiling beams; decades-old inscriptions remaining on some interior walls from the whiskey warehouse days; balconies and a rooftop deck; an eerie sub-basement used for storage and refrigeration equipment; and probably enough seating space on multiple levels to accommodate an NCAA tournament game.

Food and drink offerings incorporate and expand the tested formula at three other O’ Shea’s pubs elsewhere in Louisville (O’Shea’s, Flanagan’s and Brendan’s), with dining options aplenty, ranging from steaks and pizza, to fish ‘n’ chips and salads.

The extensive Patrick O’Shea’s beer list is the real draw for me. It offers the most diverse overall stylistic selection within crawling distance of the new arena, including imported stalwarts like Guinness and random Belgians on tap, alongside rotating American craft ales.

You’ll see Stone and Dogfish Head, Magic Hat and Schlafly, and Louisville’s local brands, too. Malty or bitter, Germany or Wisconsin or London, fruity and sweet and sour … all the flavors and textures of the world’s brewing bounty get face time at Patrick O’Shea’s, and Tom O’Shea says he is ready for the Yum! Center’s event patrons, be they from near or far.

"We hope to educate the many visitors of our fine city to the great possibilities and wonderful beer offerings from our local and regional breweries,” he told me, “as well as the many, many distinct styles of beer from around the world."

The only problem for me is this: With Arena BBC and Patrick O’Shea’s to choose from – with a dozen other establishments serving good beer within walking distance – will I ever manage to make it inside the KFC Yum! Center to enjoy a Kentucky Ale with Jeremy Markle, at his company’s Tap Room?

Has anyone seen a ticket office?

Wednesday Weekly: The 'Ville, Indy and the base of the craft beer pyramid.

I’ve always maintained that Louisville is a great beer town, given the circumstances of geography and history which might otherwise argue against the city’s prospects.

Louisville is Southern, but it isn’t Mississippi, either. It’s a rather Northern version of Southern, with bits of the best of both worlds.

Louisville generally represents the highest cultural and educational aspirations to be found in Kentucky, the hinterlands of which perpetually resent the state’s biggest city precisely because of its cosmopolitan strivings, causing me to respect Louisville’s upward arch all the more.

Louisville’s tenure as an Ohio River port is helpful, although being a seaport would be even better; then again, proximity to the ocean hasn’t much helped New Orleans or Miami become great beers in the sense of Seattle, Baltimore and San Diego, which amply prove my “ports as great beer towns” rule of thumb.

Louisville enjoys a diverse and profuse restaurant and dining scene, and maybe some of this depth of appreciation for good food spills over into the realm of better beer, informing our pursuit of more challenging beverages.

Louisville has been home to top-shelf founding beer evangelists, and boasts watering holes of upper-echelon quality, with people and places in it for the long haul, including owners, brewers, bartenders and staff at Rocky’s and the sadly defunct Fat Cat’s (1980’s); Silo (also dead), Bluegrass Brewing Company, Rich O’s, the Irish Rover, the O’Shea’s pub empire (1990’s); and Cumberland Brews, Browning’s and too many second- and third-generation establishments to count in the past ten years. Louisville attracts beer business gamers and lifers, adds constantly to the list -- and the quality shows.

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As for me, having lived this good beer life since the first Reagan administration, and passed my time both as active participant and periodic voyeur as years have gone by and changes unfolded, Louisville’s status as great beer town makes me feel proud and vindicated, although of late, to be honest, I find myself a bit troubled.

Are we falling behind?

These thoughts are an effort to put my tremulous finger on what’s bothering me; accordingly, I don’t pretend they’re entirely formed, or finalized to any firm degree. You see, if you scroll down to the bottom, you’ll find a lengthy list of links that chronicle existing and forthcoming breweries in the city of Indianapolis, two hours to the north.

Not so long ago, there were only two main areas of choice for locally-brewed craft beer in Indy: The three chain brewpubs downtown (Alcatraz, Ram and Rock Bottom), and the two independents in Broad Ripple (Broad Ripple Brewing and Brugge Brasserie).

There also were a handful of “good beer bars,” as in the case of the Marvin-era Chalkie’s in Castleton and Mike DeWeese’s BW3 downtown.

Now, five or so years later, there has been a veritable explosion of better beer options, and gazing at the boom from afar, it appears that brewery start-ups are leading the way forward, which is precisely as it should be. By early 2011, the Indianapolis metro area’s working brewery population easily could double in number, dwarfing Louisville’s roster.

As noted here previously, Indiana’s list of distinct brewing companies is approaching 40, and may already be there. When beer writer John Holl’s book about Indiana breweries is published this spring, it will be the third such volume in a year. Indiana is hot.

Obviously, donning my business-sized fedora for a moment, I hope to capitalize on this brewing profusion by rededicating the Public House’s draft lines to emphasize these Indiana beers, of which we brew just a few, too. It will give us a product that cannot be found to the same extent across the river.

But I digress, and this isn’t the point of today’s rumination.

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Rather, it is this: Why is it that until only recently, given Indianapolis’s urban clout and its economic strength, both as crossroads of America and as state capital, it clearly underperformed when it comes to beer brewed locally within its metropolitan parameters, but now is going stratospheric?

And, why is it that Louisville, previously hitting way above its economic and geographic weight in terms of locally brewed beer, is stagnant in terms of brewery start-ups?

Apart from the brewery expansion projects undertaken by three of its pre-existing brewers (BBC St Matthews, Cumberland and NABC) and the presence of two contract ventures lacking bricks and mortar, we’re standing stock still. Where’s the new blood to impel evolution?

Yes, I know. Indianapolis is different from Louisville in many ways. Yet, it seems to me that in Indy, an area not lacking in the best American craft beers and world imports as provided by homegrown wholesalers like World Class and Cavalier, the focus turns increasingly toward an expansion of locally brewed craft breweries – those clearly comprising the foundation of the craft beer pyramid as it should be anywhere that purports to be a great beer town.

Isn’t it axiomatic? How can a town really be a great beer town if the prime focus isn’t on its own, unique, locally brewed beers? Would you go to Bamberg just for the Café Abseits, as wonderful as it is? Or do you go because there are nine breweries there?

In Louisville, we’re just not spawning new breweries, with the pre-existing expansions and contract exceptions already noted. Overall, Louisville as a still-great beer town seems largely content to protect consumer comfort zones, and indulge in the habit of looking further afield to adopt as its “local” beers those coming from other places.

There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with that, although it raises an eyebrow, doesn’t it? In my experience, the quality of locally brewed beer in Louisville is uniformly excellent. There’ll always be unique specialties and rarities, but on an everyday basis, why look elsewhere?

Am I forced to conclude that as a beer town, Louisville still is suffering through a small market, “inferiority complex” phase, having less to do with quality than perceived image? Is it that locally brewed craft beers are considered insufficiently trendy or not hip enough, and instead, palates are diverted to other locales to provide panache, star power and RateBeer tasting comments memorized by rote, if not actual experience?

These questions plague me. Maybe I worry too much.

Does this quasi-attention-deficit disorder owe to a neglect of the metro market by local brewers? Is it because local brewers in Louisville have not provided beers worthy of attention? Are we somehow screwing up?

On all counts, no, I think not.

Wonderful beer is being brewed in Louisville … as well as in Indianapolis, except that in Indy, it’s leading to greater interest in locally brewed beer and new start-up investments in locally brewed beer. In Louisville, outside of reinvestment by existing brewers (admittedly, a very hopeful phenomenon) it is not, and because of this, diversity and innovation surely suffer.

That’s why I fear we’re slipping, and that shelves groaning with beers from other cities, once a cause for joy, instead is impetus for mild concern in today’s evolving marketplace.

I may be right, and just as easily, I may be wrong.

Feel free to debate, affirm and disprove.

One thing I can say is this: My energies in 2011, and in the years to follow, will continue to be devoted to advancing “betterbeerthink” as it pertains to the cause of locally brewed beer in Louisville. Thanks for reading, thinking and drinking.

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: New and Proposed Breweries in the Indy area

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Alcatraz Brewing Company

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Barley Island Brewing Company

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Broad Ripple Brewpub

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Brugge Brasserie and Brewing

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Oaken Barrel Brewing Company

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Ram Restaurant and Brewery

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Rock Bottom Restaurant and Brewery - College Park

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Rock Bottom Restaurant and Brewery - Downtown

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Sun King Brewing Company

Metromix 2010 Local Brewing Guide: Other Breweries in the Greater Indy Area

Wednesday Weekly: Sadness at the passing of a regular habit?

The announcement was made some months back, and consequently, everyone involved has had plenty of time to prepare for it.

Now, it’s almost here.

On January 3, when NABC’s original Pizzeria & Public House re-opens for business in 2011 following two days closed (New Year’s Day and the usual Sunday), we’ll be smoke-free.

Beginning on the 3rd, smoking no longer will be permitted inside the building at 3312 Plaza Drive – the entire building. No hidden nooks and crannies, and no exceptions, at least if I have anything to say about it. If we’re going to do it, it should be done correctly, or not at all.

Human nature being what it is – customarily dilatory – there was a flurry of “pro” and “con” comments just after the original announcement, and then relative quiet; now, as the “dreaded” day draws near, the prospective policy change has been mentioned a couple of times in conversation, and I’ve started thinking about it again.

My conclusion?

There isn’t anything dreadful about it, not at all, at least for the majority of patrons and workers.

It continues to surprise me that even the employees who smoke support the idea of a smoke-free building; in fact, they’re the ones who reintroduced the idea in the first place. Servers are on the front line, and no one knows daily conditions better than they do. If they’re willing to step outside at intervals in order to ensure a full dining room (and more tips), it’s a powerful argument in favor of modernity.

At the same time, there are moments in life when you find yourself standing quite clearly on the wrong side of history, and unfortunately for self-identified regulars who smoke, this is one of those times. For them, a smoking ban is a threat, an affront, and perhaps a mortal insult, and in many ways, I sincerely regret the inconvenience to them. Following is a Facebook comment excerpt from one of them, who I’ve known for a very long time.

“The decision will be bad for most of the regulars, but good for the business (and there will simply be a new group of regulars sprout on the couches like so many potatoes.) I have thought for a LONG time the Sportstime side needed to go non-smoking. There is no division there to separate tables and toddlers. But, I feel the backroom of Rich O’s should stay smoking, at least Mon.-Thurs., when it is full of mostly smoking regulars and there is rarely a wait in non-smoking. Fri.-Sat. may still have smoking regulars, of course, but there is almost always a wait in non-smoking those nights. But policies drawn with wide, straight lines tend to be easier for others to follow. So yes, the smoking will send me out. I cannot imagine that is any kind of surprise, or concern."

They're reasonable thoughts, and although I might choose to tackle the clauses one at a time, much of it can be summarized thusly: Bans on indoor smoking are about workplace safety, period.

If second-hand smoke is harmful, and I personally have come to accept that it is, if to a still uncertain extent, there is no way to protect the health of workers except to make the smoking ban uniform. Compromises are impossible to incorporate, and before someone asks, I opposed the New Albany council’s citywide ban (over-turned by mayoral veto in 2008) precisely because it was porous. If universality in my own place, or the entire city, means that I must give up my cherished cigars indoors, then so be it.

However, since I first read the above earlier today, my thoughts have veered away from pure considerations of the indoor smoking issue.

Instead, I’ve been considering what it means to be a regular in this tobacco-laden context. The complaints about the smoking policy change that I’ve heard so far have come almost entirely from frequent customers who’ve spent much time and money seated in one or both sides of the operation, smoking before, during and after eating and drinking.

Not for a moment is it my intention to be anything but grateful for their patronage over the past years, and it is my sincere hope that when a bit of time has passed, that there’ll still be some way to accommodate them at the Pizzeria & Public House. I like them, and I’ll miss them.

Conversely, I need to state this for the record: Given the many, generally positive, qualities to our business as noted by visitors over the years, ranging from the pizza to the ambience, the staff, and of course the beers, I hope I can be forgiven for expressing personal sadness of an almost overwhelming degree when I hear folks who’ve always rightly viewed themselves as the establishment’s backbone of regular patronage cite smoking as a deal-breaker.

So, that’s all it was, all this time?

That’s all we meant to you – a dry, climate-conditioned place to smoke?

No, I’m not offended. I’m not angry. I’m not anything at all, except very sad, and sad to a profound depth that even I’m surprised at feeling, having concluded long ago that it’s rare for me to feel much of anything, any longer.

To be sure, the longtime friend quoted above is showing uncommon understanding about the situation, and so my comments here are not exclusively directed to her. In fact, I’m not sure my comments are directed at anything or anyone other than to me. It’s like something finally has become clear to me after being hidden all these years, presumably behind a cloud of smoke.

So: It is my belief that those individuals and entities unable to adapt are likely to lose out in the end, and my business continues to evolve. It always has, and I hope it never stops evolving.

Furthermore, I’d like to believe that individuals are capable of evolution and reinvention. I’ve tried to be open to these processes myself, with variable results; just the same, I’ve changed. I'm not the same person at 50 as I was thirty years ago. Thank heavens.

On the other hand, apart from cigars, cigarettes have never been my thing. Perhaps I just don’t know, and can’t possibly fathom, the nicotine angle to this “regular” equation. Perhaps it's the nicotine talking, and not the persons.

You guys will be missing so much. The Pizzeria & Public House is poised to kick ass in 2011, and it’s been a while since I’ve been this excited by the prospects, both aesthetic and commercial. It is unspeakably sad that there’ll be some absences during this wonderful time.

Sad. Very, very sad. I'm not sure what else to say about it, so I'll stop writing.

Wednesday Weekly: The milestone of reforming a millstone.

Last week, the Publican (that’s me) came down with a mild cold, and the usual dreary symptoms, combined with a long overdue need to just stop for a few minutes, damn it, and take a deep breath … well, it seemed to suggest an opportune time to finally … at long last … after two or more years … sit down and go through the Pizzeria & Public House’s supposedly fabled beer list, item by item.

The goal: Tame it.

I’ve already explained where my thoughts have been headed of late. If the craft beer revolution in America is winning (it is), if NABC has invested heavily in brewing its own beer (it has), and if the company continues to seek to be serious about promoting knowledge and education (it does), then a rote renewal of our traditionally expansive, top-heavy imported bottle strategy makes very little sense.

Taken in concert with a continuing, unpredictable state of distribution in Indiana, one that seldom rewards planning and effort with consistent results (yes, there’s more than a trace of bitterness there, and I’m sorry; I’ve banged my head against the wall far to many times not to feel anger at not being able to get what I wanted, when I wanted it), and given that during hard times, there isn’t much money to spend on inventorying fantastic and fantastically priced imported beers, it just makes sense to pause, study the landscape, and begin the reinvention -- come what may.

So, I used my sick days last week to re-imagine the list.

In my first drafts, the main bottled beer list is organized not by country, as before, but according to Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP) stylistic parameters.

You ask: Why the BJCP, and not various other systems?

Because the Cicerone program of server certification follows the BJCP’s categorization of beer styles. If our employees learn to think in the BJCP’s way, they’ll be a leg up on the Cicerone program if they desire to pursue it, and the message will be consistent for consumers. The BJCP’s categories are not perfect, because perfection does not exist in this or any other world. However, as a place to learn the rules before trotting off to break them, it is fine.

Consequently, many beers are coming off the menu, while others have been added. Some of the cuts are one-offs and special orders that sneaked onto the list, while others are items we’ve actually depleted long ago and haven’t bothered noting.

In almost all cases, my fundamental consideration for selecting a particular beer is whether it is available on an everyday basis from its wholesaler, year-round. I’m finished with vainly and forlornly hoping that a just-in-time, special order system can be achieved in beer, in Indiana. Making the everyday bottled beer list as consistently available as possible is the prime goal.

Next, I’ve tried to fit these beers into the BJCP style categories where they belong, with the goal of having at least one example of each sub-style, if at all possible. Only a handful of styles currently are eluding me, like Northern German Alt and Southern English Brown. Others, like Christmas/Winter Specialty Spiced Beer (21B), obviously must be relegated to seasonal status.

To reiterate, the main bottled beer list must be a consistent, readily obtainable, everyday guide to the panoply of world beer styles as defined by the BJCP. This mission duly accomplished, seasonal and specialty offerings ranging from Oktoberfests (September) to Pumpkin Ales (late autumn) to Doppelbocks (March), and including Lambics, Ciders and Meads, can be drawn from the hundreds of other available brands to populate monthly, quarterly or purely whimsical side lists materializing on a rotating basis.

These will come and go regularly without the necessity of year-long, often futile efforts to receive product when we want it, and as importantly, without the accompanying inventory expense. I’m guessing that representative small lists for Lambic, Cider and Mead will be maintained all the time, with appropriate rotation of brands within each, and maybe selections to be reserved as “Something of the Month.”

Other decisions have yet to be made, and these are slightly more arbitrary, requiring staff participation.

Should a listed selection be the 750ml “share” bottle, or the 11.2 oz with a better price point?

Must we keep a beer in stock that doesn’t fit the reform effort’s concept because it still sells well at a ludicrously high price, even if I don’t like it personally (i.e., Corona)?

If two brands of the same style are available, should ease of procurement in glassware and wholesaler schwag be the deciding factor?

Shall we gradually seek to pare the import list even further by head-to-head contests and competitions?

I have another concept in mind, one that is by no means novel or unique, but which is sufficiently counter-intuitive (for us, at least) to merit fresh consideration.

Once the bottled beer list is finalized and composed of beers that will be constant, it may be time to launch a first-ever “drink all the beers and win a prize” competition. Such a pursuit addressed by style would be infinitely more educational than those “round the world golden lager” quests, as ours would be devoted much more to truly experiencing the range of stylistic possibilities.

If the staff can agree and think of a suitable award for those completing such a journey, perhaps we’ll take this rarest of plunges and get it going.

Eventually, NABC bottles (we’re within weeks) will take their places on the beer list, and the list surely will evolve.

It is way past time for such an evolution, don’t you think? I feel like a great weight has been lifted, and the new list will be an exciting change of pace. Let me know what you think.

Wednesday Weekly: "Micro-canning changes the game."

I often forget to reprint my columns for Food & Dining, which are not yet archived on-line, so allow me to rectify the oversight. The following (as originally submittted) appeared in F & D's second quarter 2010 edition.

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“You've likely never had great beer out of a can because so far, not much great beer has been put into a can. That's changing, and fast.”
--John Foyston, beer writer for The Oregonian

Fermentation is nature’s way, brewing is mankind’s art and science, and the ultimate success of these interrelated endeavors is determined by the individual consumer reaction to the beer resting in his or her hand.

In turn, the consumer’s approval depends in large measure on the sort of container that has been designed to deliver the liquid to a set of waiting lips in a way that assure optimal freshness and quality.

My own interest in beer containers admittedly is offbeat and selective, based less on scientific principle and technology and more on the attitude of the individual beer drinker, a state that reflects subconscious preferences, community psychologies and personal superstitions, all these combined into as many different forms as there are human beings to contrive and perpetuate them.

Many drinkers prefer draft beer, as dispensed into a glass or a cup. Others refer to themselves as “bottle babies,” refusing glassware and consuming beer directly from the bottle. In like fashion, millions of people drink directly from aluminum cans, simply popping the top, drinking the contents, feeling refreshed, and never thinking too much about it.

Perhaps owing to the expedience and informality of mass market bottled and canned beer, they have earned opprobrium of sorts from generations of radicalized beer aficionados, who have declared it utterly mistaken to drink straight from a bottle or a can because from either, the aroma so integral to taste is largely undetectable.

I know. I’m one of them.

But these same enthusiasts have deemed it entirely suitable to enjoy the contents of a bottle or can if properly decanted into an appropriate glass. Moreover, some times the very fact of a beer being bottle conditioned, or naturally carbonated in the bottle, is exalted as ideal and preferred. Even so, most cans apart from those with a nitro widget (Guinness, Boddington’s) generally have remained objects of suspicion.

Is there a coherent basis for this attitude, or is it merely totemic?

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Clay Robinson surveys this scene, and knows exactly where he stands.

“I've had a love affair with cans since I was a young boy,” says Robinson, the founder of Sun King Brewing Company, a 2009 microbrewery start-up in Indianapolis. “Dave Colt (Sun King’s brewer) and I both had beer can collections as kids.”

Canning has been part of Sun King’s business plan since its inception, and the brewery began releasing canned Sunlight Cream Ale and Osiris Pale Ale in the spring of 2010. Robinson’s favorable impression of cans goes beyond his boyhood collectibles, to reinforcement experienced during travels to the state where craft canning began.

“I first had craft beer in a can six or seven years ago while visiting my sister in Colorado,” he explains. “Not surprisingly, it was Oskar Blues Dale's Pale Ale. I remember thinking, ‘Pale Ale in a can?’ Then I bought some just to see what it was all about. I was amazed at its freshness and depth of flavor, so from that point I was hooked.”

It’s a familiar story. In craft canning circles, the Oskar Blues brewery in Lyons, Colorado, functions nowadays as a combination of Fenway Park as Mecca for Red Sox fans, Robert Johnson’s recordings as templates for blues guitarists, and the Library of Congress to document enthusiasts. In 2002, Oskar Blues became the first American microbrewery to can its ale, two units at a time to begin, and entirely by hand. The reason: Canning lines intended for small scale craft usage had yet to be produced.

Sleek and efficient smaller canning lines soon followed, thanks not only to the pioneering, niche-defining entrepreneurial efforts of Oskar Blues, but as importantly, to the active intervention of the Ball Corporation and Cask Brewing Systems.

These two far larger companies began scaling the existing canning technology to microbrewery production capacities, making it possible, albeit it more expensive than bottling, to meet the demand of a restive market just awakening to the potential of canned craft beer in recyclable aluminum, which can be taken places where glass is prohibited, like beaches, outdoor preserves and sports venues.

“Save your money because it's not cheap to get into,” is Robinson’s advice to aspiring craft beer canners, but he adds in definitive tone: “We believe that cans are a superior vessel for the transportation of craft beer.”

Robinson has a strong argument.

Aluminum itself is odorless, flavorless, pliable, lightweight and impermeable by light. Higher levels of damaging oxygen can be displaced from a can during the canning process.

According to Robinson, “The seam is a perfect seal, and the canning process functions in a cap-on-foam manner that allows for the least amount of dissolved oxygen in the finished product, and of course, light can’t get through aluminum.”

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It’s a factual, rational and largely irrefutable matter, and yet the decision still rests with the drinker. I asked Robinson how the cans have been received by the public, and his answer is emphatic.

“The response to our cans has been tremendous! We announced that we would be doing so about six months before it actually happened, and so we spent a lot of time engaged in conversations about the virtues of cans with the people who love our beer. That, coupled with a lot of positive press for cans nationwide, has really paved the way. Plus, cans are the first time Sun King has been available in a small package. Our fans are really excited about our new, highly portable container.”

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There is a dynamic not unlike a pendulum that keeps time during these considerations of beer packaging and containers, swinging back in forth though history as advancements are made and human cultural standards evolve. Beer has been stored inside, or been poured into, a dizzying array of manmade objects culled from an equally wide range of materials.

Wood, stoneware, ceramic, glass, metal, and plastic; barrels, urns, vases, bottles, hogsheads, jugs and cans; and at each juncture, the objective has been the same: To maintain beer’s freshness during transport, and to see that it is consumed when freshest and best. Better ways come and go. At times, they return.

As Sun King’s Robinson implies, as the chosen container has become smaller, more easily reproduced and efficient, beer’s transportability has steadily been enhanced, and the experience of drinking beer inexorably removed from its point of origin in the brewery, far past a place where the brewer has control of his creation. For a brewpub, where most house beer is enjoyed on the premises, this means less. For a brewery dependent on distribution, packaging decisions are life and death.

Impressively, for Sun King and other small craft breweries to invest in the emerging technology of micro-canning, as expressed in the currency of an aluminum container that once symbolized lesser quality beer in the minds of an earlier, more militant generation of craft consumers, is to trust resoundingly in the ongoing youthful democratization of craft beer.

The can as a container serves to widen the range of craft’s market penetration, by taking it where it could not previously go. Micro-canning changes the game, both in terms of distribution logistics and perceptions. Beer drinkers will decant their cans into glassware when they are able, and rink straight from the can when they are not. Either way, they’ll be enjoying greater access to better beer. Let them decide.

As a romantic at heart, it is my preference to think of beer in terms both artistic and hedonistic, as liquid poetry and as metaphorical prose. Beer has been an integral part of human civilization from the very start, and its story fully justifies those flights of intoxicated fascination and smitten adoration that ensue when a few too many of the tale’s tasty chapters have been consumed in one setting. The reality is that craft beer in cans alters none of this romance, and costs not a single intangible in return for an expansion of the perimeter.

Clay Robinson’s final thought is instructive, and brings us full circle, back to the beginning: “Regardless of the package, the beer that it carries has to be good.”

Indeed. Look for excellent canned craft beers brewed by Sun King and other trendsetters, already in stock or coming very soon to a package store near you.

Wednesday Weekly: Fishing for positives from the morass.

Days of cold and rain, business property taxes due, a petty act of vandalism, the death of a close friend – okay, so this hasn’t been the best of weeks, but I suppose you play the hand you’re dealt.

In fairness, there were good moments, too, like Monday’s record turnout for Office Hours with the Publican.

Keep showing up, and I’ll have to start doing a better job of preparing. We sampled a number of Robust Porters and Baltic Porters during this, the latest installment of our methodical journey through the BJCP style definitions. At some point, I might actually learn (and retain) something useful.

On Tuesday, I ventured into the soaked gloaming with NABC’s Louisville sales rep, Josh Hill. Director of Brewing Operations David Pierce had set up a meeting with the folks about to open Coal’s Artisan Pizza in the Vogue Center (just off Frankfort Avenue), and we had a nice chat about beer in general, and the ones they plan to pour.

Owners Mark and Madeline Peters spent time in Seattle, know their pizza, and have an excellent conceptual grounding in craft beer as well. Their centerpiece will be an anthracite-fired pizza oven capable of cooking a pie in three minutes at 1,000 degrees; the menu concept is locally-influenced all-world pizza themes; and there’ll be 12 taps. This one’s going to be wonderful.

Afterward, ducking into Cooking at the Cottage, we almost literally ran into Will Eaves of Lotsa Pasta, reigning local cheese expert and my previous co-conspirator in cheese and beer pairings. Know that another is being schemed as I write.

Josh and I then visited with the inimitable Michael Reidy at the Irish Rover over pints, ran into my old pal Ed at the Corner Door (over another pint), and after Josh finally deposited me at BoomBozz Taphouse (Eastern Parkway), there were pizza, salad and yet another pint for consumption with the missus.

Another high point, although only tangentially related to beer, came on Wednesday night when approximately 40 New Albany merchants gathered downtown at Wick’s for an organizational meeting designed to establish an independent, locally-owned business alliance in New Albany.

Bank Street Brewhouse’s GM, Joe Phillips, will be pursuing a food ‘n’ drink side project related to my wider community advocacy with the merchants group. He’ll be contacting downtown New Albany restaurants and pubs, so hopefully we can get a cooperative plan of action there, too.

Speaking of activism, and in closing, take note that the late Lloyd Wimp’s wake will be held in Prost on Monday, November 29, and if you knew him, please come and have a beer with his family and us.

As always, thoughts of one who has passed are bittersweet, in the sense that while he no longer must suffer, there’s a gaping chasm in the lives of the living.

I strongly believe that Lloyd found his truest calling relatively late in life, when like so many others, he became a self-appointed community activist in New Albany. Lloyd was a bulldog when it came to cornering bureaucrats and getting answers to previously unanswerable questions.

Surely he’d agree with me that perhaps the highest, most gratifying reward for indiscriminately launching uncomfortable truths from one’s handiest bully pulpit is watching the flight that inevitably results, as respectability openly cringes and scurries to take refuge behind the nearest available cliché.

It is reminiscent of a plot device used in countless detective novels, as prominently featured in an ancient M*A*S*H rerun I viewed recently.

A bout of petty thievery at the 4077th compels Hawkeye to convene the camp inside the mess tent, and explain that the most recent object stolen had been surreptitiously booby-trapped with invisible dye that would turn the perpetrator’s hands blue. All those in attendance sit passively, except for one – the guilty Korean houseboy – who can’t avoid staring at his hands, terrified, waiting for them to change color.

Hawkeye’s disappointed response (paraphrased): There was no dye … so, umm, why have you been stealing, anyway?

Lloyd was the guy with the dye, exposing the lie.

Rest in peace, brother.