What's the Hops on the Crops!

I don't know by what divine intervention it all happened, but all I know is that three months ago, I did not like hoppy beers; they were too pungent and tangy. It was like when I was a kid and my dad would give me a drink of his Old Milwaukee Light or a got a sip of my granpa's salted Goebel's--it just tasted bad(probably still would, but for different reasons). Then I grew up and reached the proper age to drink a beer, but still, it was Bud, Miller, or Coors--turns out they don't even use grains anymore, just corn and rice because it's cheaper, and hop extracts.

When I had my first Guinness seven years ago, I was in heaven. For the last few years, I have preferred a good old malty beer like a porter, draught or a good ol' stout, especially in the winter.

But for whatever reason, after my sister bought me a nice hop head from a micro-brew for Christmas, I have developed an affinity for the hoppier beers. A good Dogfish Head IPA or a Saranac pale ale is not as overwhelmingly bitter and perfumy as I had previously thought. For years, I couldn't stomach a Boston Lager, but now, I wouldn't mind sitting down to dinner with a classic Sammy. Either my tastes are becoming more sophisticated or I am finally becoming an adult, because as all children know, adults like things that taste like shit. So maybe this weekend I will settle down with some IPA and a plate of chicken livers and watch some PBS.

Either or...

It was cute when a little European lady asked me tonight in the GED class whether she should pronounce "either" as "eether" or "ayther" and I just looked at her and said "either." Not that it was brilliant. It's one thing to get a laugh out of a bunch of naive sophomores, but to get a group of adults from many different backgrounds to laugh, even just a little is pretty satisfying. Even the big construction guy laughed. This is the same guy who was as happy as a little kid to get a math problem right when he realized he could do it and giggled--you don't see that every day. Either way, it's a satisfying job.

Tootoring

Not that anyone will be surprised, but as I was walking across the street to tutor at the library tonight, I realized that I had really needed to cut a muffin before I went in, or I would have to wait an hour before I could toot. "Toot" is underestimating it a bit though; I had to fart--big time. It was dark. I looked behind me and readied the trumpets for the fanfare, but just as I was about to sound off, a woman approached on the adjoining sidewalk and I had to retract. It was a close one.

I waited an hour, building steam.

When I left, I quickly rounded the corner away from the public entrance, checked behind me and ahead of me and released the hounds. We all know how this ends: Just as I trumpeted a reverie to wake the dead, a woman rounded the corner of the neighboring building just as I was finishing off an impressive string of three horn blasts into the silent, snowy night. Oh well, I felt better.

This is How We Brew it!

We were supposed to go the the city to see the Tim Burton exhibit for Valentine's Day, but I underestimated the ticket sales three months after the exhibit opened, so when I checked the night before, it was too late. Fortunately, Lib was quick on her feet and suggested we make beer like we did last year. So we did.

Our brewmeister was a nice sturdy guy with a shaggy chin-strap beard and a wool cap on who reminded me of Johnny K (Don Oso), and his name was Jeremy, so I will refer to him as Jeremy K. He knew his beers and was a very nice guy, much like Don Oso. Lib asked him about a million questions and he only stumbled on the question about what exactly tannins were, but overall, he had an impressive knowledge of beer and brewing. He encouraged us to reach in and taste all the grains if we liked, and Lib, who thrives on tasting and comparing things was in heaven because, last time, she though she had to sneak samples. We made an Irish Lager named "Wasteland Lager" after T.S. Eliot's poem that includes:

Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu.
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?

After our brewing, we went to Masala, an Indian buffet, and stuffed ourselves on Lib's dime with every flavor under the sun (in India). But it is not the food that gets the focus on this blog, it is the jet engine powered hand dryers in the bathroom that impresses us every time we go, so we recorded ourselves getting our faces blown off (see below).

After lunch we headed over to Red Bank and milled around one of the antique shops for a while and Lib picked out a pretty little antique pendant of polished quartz. She used the mirror on the car visor to take this picture because she wanted me to post it, and while it is a pretty pendant, I am more impressed by her thinking to use the mirror to view the screen on the camera for the perfect shot.

By the time we got back from our big day, we settled in with a bottle of wine, some Borderlands on the 360, and called it a Valentine's for the year.

I Wanted to Believe

I discovered the source to this:

http://esoderica.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-want-to-believe.html

I could tell you that I discovered the source of the mysterious rings. I could tell you I was making breakfast yesterday, with a spatula in one hand and the non-stick spray can in the other, and as I was attempting to affix the snap-in-place lid to the can without the use of my spatula hand, I braced the bottom of the non-stick can on my stomach while wearing my white undershirt, and it all made sense that there would be a dirty, dusty ring at the bottom from sitting on the counter while cooking; seeing as how I am not the cleanest person in the world, it would gather dirt and gunk and leave a perfect ring on any light-colored shirt that I happen to be wearing at the time. I could tell you that, but it would be way to mundane.

Blizzard Entertainment

We have two days off of school because of the blizzard, so I felt like I should get out and dig the cars out so I would have an excuse as a thirty-three year old man to go and play in a foot and a half of snow. So I strapped on my red hunting hat and my boots, grabbed my shovel, and headed out into the great white open. It was also my first snow storm with a beard.

I discovered that this is what beards are for. In the past when I have had a beard, people would ask me for help in any warehouse store that I entered: Lowe's, Home Depot, and even Costco. I didn't like being stereotyped (maybe it's because I also suffer from the "every bald a-hole with a goatee" complex when I don't have a full beard), but I guess if people want to assume I am handy because of my beard, they can believe that.

Walking out into snow with a beard is another level of rugged and burly altogether, something like walking into the woods with an axe, flannel, and yes, also a beard. I dug out my car, Lib's car, our neighbor's car(after she struggled for quite some time) and then later, I dug out another of our neighbor's parking spots as I was walking by and he was trying to clear it (10 inches mind you) with a Swiffer (obviously he didn't have a beard) so his mother could park.

Afterward, Lib came out and we walked almost a mile to the liquor store to get wine for dinner, but it was closed, so we went to CVS and got Cheezits, Gummi Bears, Sour Patch Kids, Sour Melons, a Peppermint Patty, and a giant bag of Peanut M&Ms (we needed snacks for when we play Borderlands on the Xbox 360 all day tomorrow). And while Lib does not have a beard, I like to think that it was my beard that got us both through the long trek tackling the arctic conditions and safely back home again.

NOTES: If I got paid for every product I just plugged in this blog, I would be a rich man. Also, for those who read my last post, there are no ghosts in the photo above; they are just snow flakes.

A Ghost of a Chance

Why do I watch a paranormal research show every chance I get? I don't really know...well, maybe I do. I have always been intrigued by the idea of ghosts. During the day, I think it would be awesome to see a ghost, but during the night, especially when I'm alone--not so cool anymore. Maybe that is why I watch. Or maybe I watch because it is just bunch of mindless garbage that I would like to believe.

I would hate to see the ratio of hours of paranormal shows watched to semi-convincing seconds of footage. I would even wager that the ratio of something happening in a baseball game is higher, but who cares? Do ghosts exist? I don't know, but I'll watch.

What makes it even worse is that every network is jumping in on the game, and paranormal investigators are becoming as ubiquitous as reality television. Here is a breakdown of what I have seen so far, in no particular order.

Ghost Hunters: Semi-reliable, but no convincing evidence that cannot be faked; however, I have seen some cool clips--but also some shameful excuses for evidence: If you put a flashlight on the ground, off camera, tell a ghost to turn it on, and then act like it turned on and pan the camera down to it, there is something wrong. Even if it did happen, cut the clip for believability's sake. I can do a similar trick where I make my leg disappear behind a towel. But I give you the top spot, Jason and Grant, "great investigation"--fist pound.

Ghost Hunters International: JV team of Ghost Hunters Orig. They tired to get the same burly, trustworthy man's man for credibility,the kind of no-BS, "I'd have a beer with him" type, but they have failed to create the same veracity, limited as it may be. Also, how do you travel the ancient world and come up with less than the domestic team?

Ghost Hunters Academy: Steve, get over yourself. Tango, get over Steve. Do not watch. Once again, the Jersey girl was the biotch.

Ghost Adventures: Paranormal melodrama at it's finest. Zac is a spaz. I'm watching him right now, and I can't believe he is any more than a charlatan like the old lady at the fair with a tarot tent (that works out and gels her hair). Aaron, I almost believe your burly teddy-bearness...almost. Nick, good scared face when necessary. These guys get more evidence than any other show--I'll give you a guess why, and it's not their in-your-face provoking that does it. Watch the episode where the shadow of a hand comes behind Zac--not only can it be faked, but it CANNOT possibly or logically be real, even for something from another dimension; they are hoping we are stupid (I am stupid enough to watch, but not believe--that still means I'm stupid).

Paranormal State: Has a Christian bias, which actually makes it creepier in some cases. They seem to come across a lot of demons, but I think they only take these type of cases; conversely, Ghost Hunters never comes across demons. Is this a result of the assignments they take or their producers? These guys actually pulled of a brilliant one: I saw a clip of a figure moving through the woods that I thought was compelling, but when they showed it to a teammate, he insisted it was just fog. I found myself disagreeing with the guy because it was not fog, there was no way that was fo....ohhhhhh. Well played on the reverse psychology, boys. All in all. No real evidence, but I like their psychic, Chip Coffey(who now has his own spin-off, Psychic Kids)and Loraine Warren, an OG, creepy mainstay in the paranormal community.

The Haunted: Animal Planet's spin that is not so much about investigations, but uses the classic ghost show format of reenactments unless there happens to be some footage or EVP's available from previous investigators. They justify it's existence by having an animal tied in however loosely. It can be the ghost of an animal, an animal's reaction to a ghost, or maybe just an animal reenactor. This is for when you have seen all the other shows and need a fix.

Ghost Lab: Again, just because you have two burly men with goatees who drive around a cosmetically high-tech lab truck, it does not mean you are reliable. These guys get EVPs that are so clear it makes you wonder what the other guys are doing wrong. Well, I'll tell you: they don't have the portable lab for faking evidence. Although I did like the idea of putting out a series of EMF gauges to track ghost movement down a hallway. The more you high-five and bump chests, the less I believe you.

Paranormal Cops: Saw this once. Cops investigating the paranormal under the assumption that these manly guys are believable because they are the salt of the earth. Great Chicago accents, but not really impressive based off what I have seen. They use evidence tape, and some CSI forensics to add credibility to something that can't be proven. It seems to be a thrown-together, bandwagon, strike-while-the-iron-is-hot production just like those biker guys who save kittens. Yes, we have sunk this low as a society.

Living with Ghosts: I have only seen the commercial for this, but it looks pretty bad.

I would feel better if I didn't think they were playing us for a bunch of fools, or if I saw anything worth note that I could use to justify my addiction. But like the lowly addict that I am, the more junk they peddle on my cable box, the more I watch, even if I have to break open my TV and snort it out with a hollowed-out coax.

But since I am watching, I will say this:

1. Stop analyzing video of dust. There are no orbs, period. Do not say they are moving intelligently. Dust is one-billionth of an ounce and flies in any pattern you can imagine. It can flash and flicker, and a fart from across the room will make it do crazy things. Dust!

2. That being said, Stop analyzing farts. A friend of mine pointed out recently that most EVP's are statistically more likely to be farts and they rarely sound like words.

Here's a test. Listen to what they tell you it is saying, and see if it sound like those words. Then change it to anything you want with the same number of syllables(you will have a chance since they replay them fifty times) and see it it sounds like what you made up. Do not be as impressionable as they want you to be (or they are).

3. Just because you debunk a couple of things does not mean you are not lying to us. The producers are trying to create credibility, I know. I'm sure it works on a lot of viewers, including me at times, but I figured it out. Creating credibility does not give you the green light on painfully obvious fraud.

4. The more evidence you get, the more fancy crap you use, the less reliable the show, and the more I watch--doh!

5. The infrared camera picks up heat signatures. You constantly refer to feeling cold spots, but NEVER when you have the infrared camera (FLIR) at your disposal; however, you do pick up hot spots which you claim are ghosts--make up your mind: are ghosts hot or cold? Seriously.

6. Any face you see in a window is a distorted reflection. Being visual, social creatures, our brains are programmed for facial recognition. This is reason we see faces in rocks, or clouds, or wood grain, the same reason people see Jesus or Wayne Newton on potato chips.

7. We get it: you "did not believe in ghosts until you had a life changing experience." That experience was that you couldn't get an acting job, so now you pose as a blue-collar worker who moonlights as a paranormal investigator. I smell an Emmy.

8. Keep shoveling. I love it.

For the record, Lib is a bit ashamed at how much I know about these shows. So am I. I guess it's just the shame that comes from being an addict.