black ops

Apologies for the lag in entries - I was on a wicked staycation the past 2 weeks. Well, staycation in the sense that I stayed home about 60% of the time, while the other 40% was dedicated to camping and a trip up to Boston. But that's not important right now. You know is? Beer. I'm sitting here drinking a delicious bottle of Post Road Pumpkin Ale, generously donated by the Brooklyn Brewery for review, which I should have up tomorrow or Thursday the latest.

The worlds of cocktails and beer get along about as well as Jews and Arabs on the Gaza Strip. A high-minded cocktail drinker will look at a gentleman enjoying a pint and some bar nuts and think to himself "how uncivilized," while a malt fanatic scrutinizing the tap list of his local watering hole will roll his eyes when the liquor snob next to him delays everyone else's imbibing by ordering a way-too-complicated cocktail.

Etched in the deepest folds of the cerebrum are special moments in life you can't help but always remember: The night you lost your virginity. Your wedding day. The birth of your first child. The birth of your third child (because the second one turned out to be a shithead). The legendary night that Brooklyn Brewery took over the taps at Blind Tiger Ale House and brought an arsenal of their rarest vintages and one-off beers.

When I tell people that I'm an avid beer drinker, they glance down at my stomach, nod approvingly, and ask "Why are you telling a total stranger this information?" But when I tell them I'm also an avid marathon runner, they look more apt to believe that Charlie Sheen really got rushed to the hospital for laughing too hard.