Piss off, Spike: Trojan Terrapin's baseball-themed "brew lab" is just another multi-national concept, isn't it?

There's the intended "craft" imagery, whether the exact word is used or not:

Brewery goes to bat with the Atlanta Braves (CNBC)

Terrapin Beer Company is stepping up to the plate.

The Athens, Georgia-based brewery is opening a taproom and "brew lab" adjacent to SunTrust Park, the new home of Major League Baseball's Atlanta Braves, which will open next season.

"To have the Braves behind us with their branding and their fan base, I'm very excited," said Brian "Spike" Buckowski, Terrapin's co-founder and vice president of brewing ...

Then there's what it's really about:

... The deal is part of a multiyear partnership between the Atlanta Braves and MillerCoors (NYSE: TAP), whose Tenth and Blake craft division purchased a full ownership in Terrapin in July after owning a minority stake since 2012. Terrapin produced 57,000 barrels of beer last year, up nearly 25 percent from 2014.

MillerCoors is no stranger to the brewery connected to a baseball stadium concept.

Another Tenth and Blake brand, Blue Moon Brewing Company, has operated The Sandlot Brewery inside Denver's Coors Field since 1995.

It's bad enough that SunTrust Park is a paean to suburban sprawl. Now it gets to be a shrine for mockrobrews, too.


___

The band, not the beer: "Houndmouth: From the Hills to the Limelight."

Just before Christmas in 2012, NABC’s sales rep Richard Atnip (now with New Holland Brewing) asked me if it would be possible for us to do a collaboration beer with Houndmouth.

Naturally, I replied: “What is Houndmouth?”

Richard graciously supplied me with links to YouTube videos, and I did my due diligence. Not everyone in my company at the time was enamored of the idea, but a meeting was scheduled, and all four band members attended.

The meeting went well, and I thought it was worth doing. A sticking point was determining what style of beer to brew, and Richard suggested a hoppy American Wheat, rather like Gumballhead by Three Floyds Brewing. Brewer David Pierce created a formula, and we did a test batch at the smaller Grant Line Road brewhouse.

This small batch accounted for the initial release, but when the Iroquois Amphitheater sales opportunity (below) arose through River City Distributing, a batch was brewed at Bank Street Brewhouse and kegged for RCD.

The apex of Houndmouth (the ale) was at the Boomtown Ball in May of 2014, when NABC had Houndmouth during the festival and also at The Grand for the band’s show.

To make a long story short, Houndmouth Ale didn’t get further traction because there was no way NABC could package it properly (probably best in 12-oz cans or bottles) without contracting it with another brewery which could do this sort of package – and this was too expensive an investment without having multi-state distribution; otherwise, the beer couldn't follow the band.

Apparently NABC didn't brew Houndmouth for this year's Boomtown, but imagine the marketing tie-ins had the brewery done so for the opening night and first few weeks of this exhibition at the Carnegie -- which is right across the street from Bank Street Brewhouse. 

At least there'll be a few items of Houndmouth Ale memorabilia at the Carnegie (thanks AP). Here are links to two articles from 2013, followed by the Carnegie's press release.

All about Houndmouth, the band ... and the beer.

As band and beer, Houndmouth slays Iroquois.

---

Houndmouth: From the Hills to the Limelight

The Carnegie Center for Art & History invites you to the opening reception for our latest exhibition, "Houndmouth: From the Hills to the Limelight" on Friday, October 28th, 6:00-9:00pm. Come out and wear your "Saturday night kind of pink" to be entered to win an poster autographed by the band! This reception is free and open to the public.

"Houndmouth: From the Hills to the Limelight" traces the success of the musical group Houndmouth whose members all hail from New Albany, Indiana. This special exhibition documents the remarkable rise Houndmouth has experienced from playing local venues to selling out concerts across the country. The exhibit will include personal memorabilia, concert posters, costumes, instruments, original videos, and much more. It will be on view through January 21, 2017.

Making a special appearance at the opening reception, Crosley will have their mobile record store "The Crosley Cruiser" at the Carnegie Center and selling Houndmouth related records and merchandise.

Also on view will be Kentucky College of Art + Design's "Digging in the Air" helium-filled sculpture, winner of the #IamPublicArt Rumble on the River installation!

Share your love of all things Houndmouth by posting photos on Instagram using the hashtag #HometownHoundmouth! Photos will be added to a live photostream and become a part of the exhibition! *Instagram accounts need to be set to "public" for images to appear at the Carnegie Center.

"Houndmouth: From the Hills to the Limelight" was made possible by the generous support of Horseshoe Foundation of Floyd County, Wesbanco Bank, and 91.9 WFPK. Thank you!

__

AFTER THE FIRE: These old, old habits die hard.

AFTER THE FIRE: These old, old habits die hard.

A weekly column by Roger A. Baylor.

"Never be afraid of the obvious, because it's all been done before."
-- Noel Gallagher

Throw out the tired qualifiers, strained excuses and special exceptions. Any year we have the opportunity to travel is a very good year, indeed, even on those rare occasions when Donald Trump is running for president.

You may insert any relevant jokes about “running away,” “he keeps me running” or “running on empty” – or, conversely, just get the “runs” and be done with it.

Verily, whether a lush, teetotaler or embracing any state of bibulosity between these extremes, our collective electoral agony finally ends with Election Day, November 8. Speaking personally, I’ve already made my choice, and you cannot sway me.

It’s Sicily, and we leave shortly after the election. I know very well where I’m going to go when the volcano blows – Catania, at the foot of Mount Etna.

However, the object here isn’t to recap the year’s road trips. Nor will I dare explore the implications of a strange dream just the other night, in which Michael “Beer Hunter” Jackson turned to me and said, “If most Trump voters are white males, and if most craft brewers are white males, then isn’t it time to start over?”

Rather, it is to concede that whenever you hear me claim to be a drastically changed man in terms of personal habits, I’m stretching the truth just a bit, not unlike America’s major party political candidates.

In fact, while the Curmudgeon continues to soft-pedal his ties to beer and the brewing biz, it remains that these old, old habits die hard, and each of our travel opportunities in 2016 has been (or is being) preceded by a thorough examination of the best beer options nearest the destination in question.

Which is to say, I haven’t entirely stopped being fervently judgmental when calculating my discretionary spending decisions and exercising them for better beer, although I do my level best to avoid reading reviews at RateBeer, Beer Advocate or anywhere else.

If I can’t survey available options and make these critical distinctions by now, relying on my knowledge and experience, then those many years of liver abuse were plainly squandered.

The good news is the pace of that particular assault on my body definitely has slowed. Nowadays, thinking back on the exploits of three decades, it flummoxes me to have consumed so much beer. It wasn’t always drinking; it was sheer swallowing.

I’ll likely spend the remainder of my life trying to remember – first, to recall what actually transpired, these memories being frustratingly elusive, but moreover, pondering a consciousness once capable of impelling this powerful urge to imbibe. It’s hard to say why, now that I no longer feel that way.

Well … not very often.

---

Returning to within earshot of my point, it seems to me that when you’re drinking far less beer overall, decision-making becomes more efficient and streamlined.

Spectacular arrays of Barrel-Aged Sour IPAs at multi-taps and other hyper-specialized beer bars eventually come to factor less into the selection equation. Having done my little bit historically to develop these concepts, I’ve nothing against them. It’s just that in the present time, a clean, well-lighted local spot with a good beer or two on tap suffices perfectly well.

After all, I’m probably only having two or three beers, anyway. That’s the great joy of a vicinity like Madison, Wisconsin, because even the VFW posts there have draft New Glarus Spotted Cow, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. It’s hard to find an establishment that doesn’t offer a few solid “craft” options.

This sensibility is less developed in metro Louisville KY, although it’s getting better. Consider a place like Vic’s Café in New Albany, an old school bar with quality food at reasonable prices, as well as bottles of Bell’s Two Hearted for three dollars, every day.

In short, no longer must we segregate ourselves in armored beer geek siloes, surrounded only by fellow IBU-counters. As better beer proliferates, so do our options for those times when we’d just like to have a good beer or two, an honest bite, and a seat in the real world.

---

Returning to the notion of travel fulfillment, I’m a longtime advocate of walkability. Accordingly, my advance scouting usually means examining the Google Map in great detail without autos in mind, calculating the distance from hotel to beer bar or brewery, and poring over public transport options.

In a pinch, I’ll estimate the length of the drive – for purposes of a taxi, if nothing else. Naturally there are times when one must drive, and when this occurs, you go to New Glarus and fill up the trunk, making for many happy evenings on the porch once you’re back home.

For a beer lover, there are obvious dividends to urban wandering on foot, which simply cannot be replicated in a motor vehicle. For one, to walk is to be exposed to far greater detail than can be experienced in a car. More importantly, activity stimulates the metabolism. You can eat, drink and burn off calories during the walk itself.

Of course, walking doesn’t absolve the drinker from potential issues with perambulation while intoxicated, but these pale in comparison with drunk driving.

The ideal scenario for me is a looping circular stroll, beginning at home or hostelry, and meandering toward a brewery tap or beer bar, perhaps walking for an hour or two, maybe more, time enough for the pints and bites at my stop to be a genuine reward.

The way back can be a directional potpourri. At every conceivable byway, the more sessionable the pints, the better to augment my quota with an extra one for dessert.

At the end of the drinking day on the road, there are no right or wrong itineraries. For me, the ultimate goal of better beer always was to incorporate it within everyday neighborhood life, not sequester it in a gated community, aloof and removed.

This is my objective when traveling, too. Urban revitalization and palate renewal are birds of a feather, better observed afoot and awake.

---

October 10: AFTER THE FIRE: The Great Taste of the Midwest is the best beer fest of them all.

October 3: AFTER THE FIRE: New Albany’s Harvest Homecoming occupation isn't alleviating my "craft" beer Twitter depression.

September 26: AFTER THE FIRE: The seasonality of Oktoberfest in time, beer and year.

September 19: AFTER THE FIRE: This week in solipsistic beer narcissism (2014).


__

Last of my summer's patience: Walking holidays in the UK that lead to pubs.

The Craven Arms (from The Guardian).

One of my obsessions during the period spent contemplating my NABC-xit was the long-running British television show, The Last of the Summer Wine.

ON THE AVENUES: The last of the summer beer.

 ... It’s hard to imagine a more unfashionable concept in the milieu of the smart phone and driverless car, and perhaps that’s why I’m so attracted to it.

For the uninitiated, the series ran from 1973 through 2010, a staggering 37 years, with almost 300 episodes aired. Virtually all emphasize a timeless sense of place, with much location filming amid the workmanlike stone buildings and rustic, gorgeous rolling hills of Holmfirth, Yorkshire.

There is a basic narrative premise remaining unchanged throughout the program’s run: “A whimsical comedy with a penchant for light philosophy and full-on slapstick (following) the misadventures of three elderly friends tramping around the Yorkshire countryside.”

I actually stopped watching the show during last year's mayoral campaign, as it rendered me dreamy and inert, and no longer willing to read sewage treatment consent decrees.

Then, this morning, the missus pointed me to a piece in The Guardian about walking the English (and Welsh, Scottish and Irish) countryside and drinking real ale in the UK, and I dissolved into melancholy reverie. It is 9:00 a.m., and all I can think about it Ordinary Bitter.

Coincidentally, the Inspector Morse episode we watched two days ago contained a wonderful subtle vignette, wherein Morse and Lewis have retreated to a pub to discuss their investigation, and as Lewis speaks, Morse (a cask devotee) gazes soulfully at a pint of ale being sinuously drawn.

By the way ... get me the fuck out of here.

Please?

20 great UK walks with pubs, chosen by nature writers

Pull on your boots and enjoy the countryside in all its autumn glory. Ten of Britain’s best nature writers reveal their favourite routes – and where they like to refuel on the way.

___

Brewers take note: Clarksville's redevelopment site has its own sewage treatment plant. Just saying.

A couple of months ago I had lunch with Dylan Fisher, the town of Clarksville's redevelopment director. I went to college with Dylan's dad, and it's always delightful to see the next generation rising.

Dylan is a sharp young man who speaks the contemporary urban language, and for a town about to pivot away from suburban-oriented development to a denser, multi-modal future, his knowledge base is a tremendous asset to the community.

He also likes good beer.

For those reading from afar, New Albany's on the west side, Jeffersonville's on the east side, and Clarksville's right in the middle.

It is no exaggeration to posit that given Clarksville's location directly across the Ohio River from Louisville KY, coupled with these sixty-plus acres of former industrial properties now open to adaptive reuse, plus the completion of regional highway and bridge projects and the Ohio River Greenway (which slices right through Clarksville's waterfront), the South Clarksville Redevelopment Plan represents some of the greatest redevelopment potential we've ever witnessed on this side of the water.

Specifically for those who may be considering the merits of brewery expansion in Louisville KY metro, the old Colgate property has its own sewage treatment plant. I believe it's currently unused, but could be restarted, and I needn't remind brewers of how important this one single fact might be (and already has become for many), not to mention the mothballed industrial and transport infrastructure already waiting there.

I'm not getting a commission for any of this, though a growler or two would be nice.

SATURDAY SPOTLIGHT: South Clarksville redevelopment captures waterfront appeal, by Elizabeth Beilman (News and Tribune)

"Right now, we are focusing on the waterfront," Clarksville Redevelopment Director Dylan Fisher said. "The waterfront is a big thing for us because we think it's not only a leverage point for development activity ... but preserving our waterfront and improving our waterfront was a big thing for the public."

A waterfront park would have a raised walking platform, fountain and three catwalks out to old fuel storage tanks that could be converted into piers. Along Riverside Drive, Fisher envisions restaurants and a hotel. More gates could be installed in the floodwall to make way for additional roads that will make access to the shore easier.

Fisher argues its the missing piece of Southern Indiana.

___

Galloping very soon to the "undisputed queen of street food" in Catania, Sicily.

If you're planning on visiting Sicily (we are), and you have a friend in Italy (I do), then you ask him questions about vital topics like food and drink.

Earlier today I was chatting with Fabio, who runs a beer bar in Arezzo and has been very helpful during trip planning. He has pointed so far to a bottle shop and beer bar in Catania, our destination, and recently mentioned a pasta recipe using wild boar (not exactly a staple at Olive Garden). This led to further discussion about street food, and the revelation that among the admired specialties of Catania is carne di cavallo ... horse meat.

I used to joke about the likelihood of having consumed horse meat many times while beer-tripping and budget-eating in Europe, in the form of "mystery meat in gray sauce" specials at my favored dirt cheap proletarian cafeterias. It reminds me of the old W.C. Fields diner gag.

W.C. Fields (to waitress): "I didn't squawk about the steak, dear. I merely said I didn't see that old horse that used to be tethered outside here."

The link Fabio provided is in Italian, and of course this can be translated -- shall we say, imperfectly, but the meaning is fairly clear: If you wish to dine on horse meat without a side dish of political correctness, then the shadier the neighborhood, the better -- and here are the five most "disreputable" (read: best) places to do it.

Horse meat in Catania more the neighborhood is the most infamous is good ... 5 disreputable places, very recommended, by Mara Pettignano

Horse meat: bright red, succulent, from the undisputed taste trend with ten out of ten to sweet, to eat if possible to the blood. If you too are passionate to know that there is one place in Italy where it is sanctified, he adored, revered .

A city where horse meat is the only and undisputed queen of street food, become long tradition before the "street food " became a commonly used term.

That place is Catania, but if you want to enjoy the delicacy of this meat, net of ethical issues that can create eat it, you have to get your hands dirty: the places where you need to go are hardly reported by the Michelin Guide.

___

Taco Steve has beer now. Tacos and beer. America.

It's the best six-can beer list in New Albany. Taco Steve is located in the rear of Destinations Booksellers at 604 East Spring Street, opposite the very nearly completed Breakwater apartment development.

__

"The Kentucky Guild of Brewers has hired its first paid executive director."

Read about the release of Kentucky Proud beers.

Straight up: The Kentucky Guild of Brewers (KGB) has a paid director, and apologies for being way overdue on this one. We were in New England when the story broke, and it wasn't until I was researching my most recent Food & Dining Magazine piece (it's about HopCat and will appear in the next issue) did I realize what had happened.

So, all due props to KGB and Derek Selznick, and thanks to Derek for his quote for the article. From my days on the Indiana guild board, I know that this move is going to help Kentucky breweries very much, especially on the lobbying front.

Ky. brewers guild hires first paid director, by Bailey Loosemore (Courier-Journal)

The Kentucky Guild of Brewers has hired its first paid executive director with help from a national nonprofit that promotes American craft brewers.

On Monday, the local organization announced it has selected Derek Selznick for the newly created position, which will be funded by the Brewers Association. Selznick will begin the role Sept. 6, according to a press release.

___

A couple of beers at Next Door Brewing Company in Madison, Wisconsin.

Borrowed from the Interwebz.

As a final Wisconsin trip note, a tip of the chapeau to Next Door Brewing Company, located in Madison on Atwood Avenue near Willy Street and right across from the weirdly distinctive St. Bernard Catholic Church -- is it the truncated non-steeple that reminds me of somewhere I've been in Europe?

We went to Next Door for the first time (ever) on Sunday afternoon after brunch at Great Dane and beers at Capital. I chose Porter as a restorative, and it turned the trick nicely. In the end, I'll always be a fan of Porter on such occasions. It isn't just a colder weather style.

The closer was a Berliner Weisse sans syrup, and it was another winner, refreshing and low gravity with textbook tartness.

For the sale of some salt, chips and salsa came in handy, but we were far too full to eat a meal. Next time in Madison, I'd like to do that. The barroom was modernist and comfy, and my only regret is we couldn't stay for a longer session.

___

All hail Sunday: Liquid brunch at Great Dane Hilldale, liquid lunch at Capital Brewery.

During the time of our regular August visits to Madison for the Great Taste of the Midwest, we'd always try to hit the Great Dane's original Doty Street location for lunch on the day of arrival.

Later on, we discovered Sunday brunch at the Great Dane Hilldale, which is just off University Avenue roughly halfway between downtown and Middleton. With brunch from 10 to 2, and Capital Brewery's beer garden opening at noon, it's a leisurely drive with a definite purpose.

Capital's beer garden.

This time around, we didn't proceed directly to Great Dane on Thursday, but waited until Sunday for Hilldale. Is it the best brunch on the planet? Probably not, but fried chicken and ice cream is nothing to sneeze at on a Packers game day -- along with bacon, coffee, Eggs Benedict, tacos and beer.

Afterward, the ten minute cruise to Middleton brought us to the beer garden on sunny and crisp autumn day that screamed Oktoberfest, and Capital readily obliged.

Have I mentioned how much I love Madison?

___

Cheers to our old friend at the Sheraton Madison bar.

I don't know the name of the woman who tends bar at the Sheraton in Madison, Wisconsin. All I know is that during those many years when NABC's crew stayed at the Sheraton for the Great Taste of the Midwest, she seemed to be working every shift. Many a nightcap happened there, within crawling distance of the elevators.

On Saturday during our weekend getaway to Madison, Diana suggested having a beer at the Sheraton for old times' sake. There we found our stalwart behind the sticks, skilled and professional like always. I was pleased to find two of the mass-market tap handles replaced by "craft" beers, not an uncommon occurrence in Madison -- but let's appreciate corporate entities on those rare occasions of responsiveness.

Oddly, the only dissonance came from the three Germans seated next to us at the bar. They ordered Budweiser ('America', my ass) in bottles and drank from them while discussing the outcome of a big cattle show with a fourth international bovine dealer, who at least had the good sense to drink bourbon. I almost wish they wouldn't have been conversing in English. Germany's a great beer drinking country, except when it isn't.

I had a martini and tried to ignore them. To the bartender at the Sheraton Madison: You rock. Thanks for the memories, and we'll stop by next time we're up your way.

___

Cocktail hour at the Wonder Bar Steakhouse in Madison, Wisconsin.

Cribbed from Google.

In Madison, Wisconsin for the weekend, we stayed at an Airbnb just off Park Street. It's a fine neighborhood for eating and drinking, and our genial host Coco mentioned that she often walked to a nearby establishment for cocktails, especially during colder weather, owing to the presence of a fireplace near the bar.

"You can't miss it," she said. "It  looks like a castle."

She was speaking of the Wonder Bar Steakhouse, and on Friday afternoon we decided to make it our destination for a Happy Hour round of cocktails. It turned out to be a refreshing 15-minute walk from our pad.

The Wonder Bar is located so near Olin Park (fest grounds of the Great Taste of the Midwest) that I'm surprised we hadn't noticed it before. The venue is an old two-story red brick building now overshadowed by a newer structure next door. From the main road, one can see an Old Style beer sign tacked to the Wonder Bar's backside, reminding us that La Cross (former home of G. Heileman) is only a couple of hours up the road from Madison.

The interior is a conscious old school throwback, and every bit as delightful as Coco suggested. We didn't eat, but Diana had a Gin & Tonic, while I opted for a Manhattan with Bulleit Rye.

Delicious, indeed -- and it does look a bit like a castle.

___

How Rockhound Brewing's smoked hop pale ale and the Super Bowl in the year 2000 connect in my cranium.

The last time we visited Madison was 2014, and since then, several new breweries have started operations. One of them is Rockhound Brewing, located on Park Street, just a ten-minute walk from our Airbnb. It's sleek and modern, housed in the ground floor of a newer mixed-use building. Rockhound was rocking on Thursday night.

Prior to departure, I'd seen a reference on Facebook about a new smoked beer release at Rockhound called Campfire Stories, and resolved to try it. For once, I made no effort to research the beer any further; just order it, and drink.

At first, I found the results a bit odd. Not bad, just uncommon -- hops in the background and smoky nose, but something vaguely phenolic in the background flavor. At this point intrigued, I asked the bartender. She explained that Campfire Stories was a Pale Ale, with the hops smoked rather than the malt.

Only then did it hit me.

On January 30, 2000, a date verifiable only because it was Super Bowl Sunday (the Rams over the Titans), the late Matt Gould and Kevin Richards came to my garage to homebrew an idea we'd long discussed: Smoked Hop Pale Ale.

Unusually, this was my idea. One night at the bar, I drank a Schlenkerla Rauchbier, then without rinsing the glass (how often did THAT happen?) poured BBC American Pale Ale into it. I was drinking a hoppy ale and smelling smoke, hence the "eureka!" moment, comparable to the old commercials in which peanut butter accidentally met chocolate to form the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.

Consequently, Matt bought whole leaf hops, and Kevin joined him in smoking them over wood that wasn't beech, though the exact type escapes my memory. Hickory? Mesquite?

My then-wife was a homebrewer, so we had most of the equipment already assembled, which actually may have belonged to the FOSSILS homebrewing club. Don't ask for details. It was 16 years ago, and these days, it's a challenge remembering what I had for lunch yesterday.

Still, I know we brewed, and I know we drank lots and lots of "guest" beers while ducking in and out of the garage to watch the game, which came down to the final play. At some point a few weeks later, we tried the beer. It was rough around the edges, though better than I expected, and it had this slightly phenolic flavor ...

By the following year, Cumberland Brews was going full-tilt, and Matt was the brewer there. He brewed the second batch of smoked hop ale at Cumberland as a seasonal specialty, and if memory serves, repeated it in 2002. By 2003, NABC's starter brewing system was on-line, and at some point Michael Borchers created our house version, called ConeSmoker, but with a twist. Smoked malt was used, as smoking the hops seemed too variable.  

That's a chunk of Kentuckiana beer history to emanate from a single pint of Campfire Stories at Rockhound in Madison, and that's what I like about the wider world of beer.

Free and unfettered association.

___

"Jeffrey Bernard Was Unwell, and Wonderful."

Twice previously, I've written about Jeffrey Bernard.

Jeffrey Bernard was unwell, but I'm feeling fine, thank you.

Got a Drinking Problem? "Jeffrey Bernard Is Unwell."

The third time's bound to be the charm. For those doubting the ability of a reformed alcoholic to write sympathetically about another who never did, Bosley's account is a corrective. Whether there is glamour in drinking oneself to death can be decided by the reader. There was a time when it appealed to me. Now, not very much.

Jeffrey Bernard Was Unwell, and Wonderful, by Deborah Bosley (The Fix)

... His other regular watering hole and second home, The Coach and Horses, was around the corner from the Groucho on Greek Street, and had become something of a destination as people came along hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary writer and drinker. Jeff had made a career and built his considerable notoriety around a life of excess but he wasn't just some drunk who made people laugh; he wrote with elegance and insight, was a cultured man with considerable knowledge of music and naval history, particularly his hero, Lord Nelson. He was complex and contradictory and though drinking often made him foul-tempered, he was capable of great charm.

___

All 9 of Tony Beard's posters for Fringe Fest at Bank Street Brewhouse, 2008 – 2016.

It may no longer be any of my business (except I still own a third of it, pending a monetary settlement), but I want NABC to do well, and I'm still a tremendous fan of all the folks on the shop floor, like Tony Beard. As Ralph Steadman is to Flying Dog ...

Information about Fringe Fest 2016

AFTER THE FIRE: New Albany’s Harvest Homecoming occupation isn't alleviating my "craft" beer Twitter depression.

AFTER THE FIRE: New Albany’s Harvest Homecoming occupation isn't alleviating my "craft" beer Twitter depression. 

A weekly column by Roger A. Baylor.

Idly cruising Twitter one recent evening, I happened upon a jarring retweet dispensed from a regional “craft” brewery’s official account.

It was nasty and misogynistic attack on the plaintiff in a biracial rape case, and judging from the hashtags, it may originally have emanated from supporters of the once and future Klansman, David Duke. Sadly, both Indiana and Kentucky have been traditional bastions of hooded white supremacy.

This dubious retweet was deleted so rapidly that I wasn’t able to snap a screenshot, and for this I’m oddly thankful, although my comforting rationale for its hasty removal – hey, someone probably confused his or her personal account with the brewery handle – isn’t tremendously reassuring upon closer examination.

Since the dawn of the brewing revolution, it has been my operating assumption that most of us are leftists. In the 90s, I simply can’t recall meeting very many fascists in the business.

However, as someone told me back in kindergarten, never assume; you make an ass out of "u" and me. Probably my sampling was always too small, and in terms of demographics, it’s unlikely that "craft" beer would be any different in attitudinal composition than the nation as a whole.

And yet it strikes me that positing a split between Democrats and Republicans (or liberals versus conservatives) in "craft" brewing circles is one thing, and retweeting the likes of David Duke is something else entirely.

Aberrant? Abhorrent? As the shoe or mash paddle fits.

It’s hard imagining me as a cockeyed optimist, but I genuinely believed that what we were doing in elevating better beer was ultimately inclusive – in ideal terms, if not in socio-economic reality. After all, there’s a market for dollar beers utterly removed from our reach.

Sexism, racism, abject macho stupidity -- tell me, how is this strengthening the revolution’s gains?

Or is it that you’re ignorant of the revolution’s tenets … and by extension, certain key elements of the American historical record? Given the comic-opera presidential campaign, perhaps 2016 was destined to be the year when the last bits of innocence went swirling down gold-plated toilets.

There isn’t much one grizzled veteran of the beer wars can do to protest in a case like this, though one response is crystal clear to me: I buy far less beer than before, and giving me a reason not to buy yours makes my choice -- nay, my life -- much easier.

How very disappointing.

---

Closer to home, New Albany’s peculiar institution of Harvest Homecoming approaches.

This year, the Curmudgeons are taking a rational route out of the ensuing discordancy – specifically, I-65, which gets us started on the northward journey to Madison, Wisconsin and four classic days removed from the civic daze.

Properly rendered, community festivals are just the sort of exercise to promote good times, unite the citizenry, help us bond through joy and alcohol (on second thought, that’s a redundancy), and maybe provide another yearly excuse to conduct a spate of deep street cleaning – preferably, both before and after the crowds come through.

Unfortunately, when it comes to celebrations, New Albany prefers ponderous bludgeoning over subtle stilettos. In rhetorical terms, so do I, and yet my feelings about Harvest Homecoming probably are more nuanced than they often appear to be.

I like it, except when I don’t.

Harvest Homecoming is New Albany’s annual 800-lb municipal gorilla, or stated more mildly, it is the granddaddy of all festivals in this slowly recovering, stubbornly hidebound city.

The annual arrival of the itinerant carney corps follows the opening Saturday parade, an increasingly dull “family-oriented” exercise, and then on the following Thursday the heart of the historic downtown business district is handed over lock, stock and sewer pipe to Harvest Homecoming’s mysterious, Kremlinesque governing committee.

Four solid days of throng-crowded booths ensue, increasingly manned not by local indies but roving huckster mercenaries, dispensing foodstuffs, arts, crafts, politics and anti-abortion counseling, and completely disrupting any semblance of downtown commerce as meant to function normally.

Increasingly, this yearly disruption constitutes the flash point. For decades, there was little objection to Harvest Homecoming’s yearly invasion and occupation of downtown, because downtown was a ghost town.

Now it isn’t, and dynamic revitalization has a predictable way of igniting a revolution of rising expectations among a new generation of downtown business owners, investors and clients.

These are plain facts.

However, as yet, there is no obvious solution to dynamism’s clash with conservatism, primarily because the low level of daily communication between various interested parties makes sparse dialogue between North and South Korea look like a beer hall sing-along in Munich.

Yes, there have been painstakingly slow and incremental concessions, and as Harvest Homecoming generationally reloads, the festival slowly is going through a necessary process of reinvention.

May it proceed a bit faster, please.

But from the standpoint of newer downtown businesses, the root equation remains largely unaltered: Harvest Homecoming’s longtime business model is dependent on the existence of a clean, moribund downtown grid that no longer exists, and if anything, will grow even less adaptive to the festival’s needs in the years to come as downtown residency become the norm, not the exception.

My personal nuances are these: I don’t dislike the idea of Harvest Homecoming, only its current implementation. I believe it can be adapted to take full advantage of potential symmetry between it and an evolving downtown business district, without sacrificing its tradition, and to the benefit of all parties involved. I envision a downtown food and drink court on the current booth grid, one maximizing the uniqueness of our burgeoning dining scene, retaining space for booths while not blocking year-long purveyors. I foresee a celebration of what downtown New Albany is, and is becoming.

You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I’m just the only one stupid enough to dream aloud. For this, I'm sure to be punished.

Again.

(Go here to learn about a wonderful new initiative on Friday, October 7 called the Harvest Beer Hop)

---

September 26: AFTER THE FIRE: The seasonality of Oktoberfest in time, beer and year.

September 19: AFTER THE FIRE: This week in solipsistic beer narcissism (2014).

September 12: AFTER THE FIRE: England, or one man's heightened cholesterol panic is another man's nostalgic repast (2013).

September 5: AFTER THE FIRE: Beer stories and bedtime for gonzo (2013).

__

Learn where Donum Dei Brewery will be staging a pop-up beer garden during Harvest Homecoming.

Harvest Homecoming's annual run in downtown New Albany is almost here, and in 2016, "booth days" take place from October 6 - 9 (Thursday through Sunday). Over at NA Confidential, I've been surveying the scene "behind the booths," where our independent local businesses operate throughout the year.

Donum Dei Brewery is situated near the original NABC location, just off Grant Line Road, approximately four miles from the historic business district. Unlike year-round businesses in downtown, which must adapt to a festival occupying their usual bricks 'n' mortar milieu, Donum Dei's owner Rick Otey must be creative in finding a pop-up spot to set up shop, and with luck, benefit from the crowds.

Just such a setting is the rear of a building on Main Street, which only recently was purchased and is being remodeled.

Preview: 410 Bakery coming to 140 East Main Street in downtown New Albany.

RENOVATION UPDATE: You know, that building where Abe's Rental used to be (140 E Main St).

Locals know it as "where Abe's Rental used to be," and it was a service station before that.

In the completed patio setting shown above, Rick found the ideal niche for serving beer during booth days.

We will be having a Harvest Homecoming Beer Garden! Come and relax and have a couple of pints.

The locations is 140 E. Main. The garden will be on the patio behind the building.

Hours will be:

Thursday October 6, 11-10
Friday October 7, 11-11
Saturday October 8, 11-11
Sunday October 9, 11-6

We will have live original music Friday and Saturday night 7-9.

Friday Bob and Erin Youell
Saturday South Upand

If you're downtown during the madness, don't forget about Donum Dei's pop-up, and for officially sanctioned activities, go here: 2016 Harvest Homecoming Festival Guide.

__

The Pour Fool rules: "FUCK Budweiser: Your Basic Early Morning, Fed-Up Rant."

From the glorious article.

The Pour Fool induced a Vulcan mind meld, and now the contents of my own cranium have been reproduced in full, living color -- except, of course, the Pour Fool wrote these inspiring words himself.

He just might be my favorite living beer writer.

FUCK Budweiser: Your Basic Early Morning, Fed-Up Rant, by Steve Foolbody (The Pour Fool)

People don’t come out of the womb with a hankerin’ for Budweiser. Kids, in particular, love big flavors. They grow up eating nachos and Cheetos and burgers and pizza…NONE of which leads logically to drinking watery, flavorless adjunct Pilsner, that is so swamped by those food that you might as well be drinking water. People are programmed to drink BudMillerCoors. They find it in their family fridge and watch Mon and Dad and their uncles and aunts mindlessly slugging the stuff down and think, “That’s what beer is“. That knee-jerk repetition kept those wimpy-ass beers unchallenged for over a century…until beers with real flavor came along and craft brewing flourished and people found out, “Hey! I don’t have to settle for that insipid shit, anymore!” And AB/InBev is on the way out and they don’t even know it because we like these new, carefully crafted, great-tasting beers BETTER…and we are NEVER going back.

__

Floyd County Brewing Company is an indie alternative during Harvest Homecoming.

Floyd County Brewing Company‎ is promoting TASTE-IN in the Biergarten, an event running on Friday and Saturday, October 7 and 8.

It coincides with Harvest Homecoming booth days in downtown, which close streets and alter normal indie business routines from October 6 through 9.

Very excited to announce the first annual TASTE-IN festival. Come hang out in the Biergarten and enjoy 16 Indiana Craft Beers from 11 Indiana Breweries. There will be delicious food available and fantastic live music both Fri (Robert Rolfe Fedderson) and Sat (The Pirtles).

FCBC also has an alternative (and constructive) take on New Albany's purely unofficial "beer (swill) walk" during Harvest Homecoming.

Sounds like good advice any day of the week.

Harvest Homecoming festival has finally arrived, and the harvest craft beer crawl is what kicks it off. Join the community by walking through downtown New Albany, seeing the Renaissance that's happening while imbibing on the delicious craft beer we offer.

__

North Korea's first beer festival proves the superiority of Socialist beer rating schemes.

Or some such. I'm sure RateAdvocate is right on it.

For a brief period in 1989, I was slated for attendance at the 13th World Festival of Youth and Students in Pyongyang. Eventually my credentials were revoked by the American governing body of Young Communists (sic), which I concede was fitting and proper considering I'd never been a member of their organization.

Of course, this is irrefutable evidence that I'm not a Commie, but this is another story for another time. Perhaps my next brewery project should be called Fellow Traveler, with a graphic depicting Robert E. Lee's horse.

Ironically, later in 1989 in Copenhagen I was able to taste a North Korean bottled beer brought out of the country by a Danish friend's relative, who if memory serves worked for Aeroflot.

The beer tasted like the drippings of a rusty drainpipe atop a chicken coop, filtered with moldy cleaning rags. Other than that, it was fine. Now there is Taedonggang beer, and by all appearances it's a considerable improvement.

In 2008, the New York Times explained the brewery's origins. It originally was used to make the Ushers brand of ale in England. Now the brewery produces lager beer in North Korea, and perhaps there is some confusion among coverage providers, as when the Guardian writer uses the word "ale" to describe "lager" flavor characteristics:

"With an alcohol content of 5% and a taste resembling British ale."

No matter. If anyone snags some, can you bring me a bottle? Thanks in advance.

Photo credit: The Guardian.

__