Monday, April 26, 2010

Dark Lord Day.

I attended my first Dark Lord Day this past Saturday. If you're unfamiliar with this magical, alcohol-drenched pandemonium, it's a full day of beer euphoria presented by Three Floyds Brewery. Each year, the brewery unleashes its batch of Dark Lord, a Russian imperial stout sold for one day only. With the craft beer revolution in full force, friends have detailed the growth of this beer festival these past few years, and from what I was told, this year marked an exponential growth in attendees and just general pleasantry between craft beer snobs and advocates.

Now, I'm not going to feign to have vast knowledge about craft beer and the culture. To be completely honest, I'm still in the midst of learning. However, I do know that I enjoy beer, and I do know that I generally enjoy those who dabble in the production and promotion of hard-to-find brews.

Dark Lord Day only elevated my interest and subsequent passion for the pigeonhole of craft beer. A few friends and I arrived at the Three Floyds compound in Munster, Indiana around 2 PM on Saturday and were immediately bombarded by a behemoth line of Dark Lord enthusiasts. We assumed the massive line was for the purchase of Dark Lord (the beer has become so popular that you actually have to purchase hard-to-snatch tickets from the brewery's website in order to have a chance to buy Dark Lord). We opted to head into the brewery first to check out a scene in which there was no shortage of beer up for sale. Aside from Dark Lord, I was downing Three Floyds Alpha King (a favorite of mine), Samurai Gazebo (a delicious summertime lager), and Popskull (a hearty and robust collaboration with Dogfish Head).

But what made the festival so awesome was the uninhibited friendliness of the rest of the attendees. After checking out the compound and the stage area (oh yeah, the festival also boasts a solid lineup of bands for your entertainment), we settled in the line for our chance to get at the Dark Lord. The line was ridiculous (we waited in shifts for about three hours), but it didn't even matter. Other attendees troll the lines offering up their own beer for your tasting. Growlers and liters make their way into each nook of the festival as those with tickets patiently wait with their coolers, backpacks, and open arms to haul whatever they can pack away.

I semi-documented the day with my digital photo taking device. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, I got a tad tipsy as the day wore on and wasn't able to take as many photos as I would've liked. Regardless, here they are in absolutely no order whatsoever.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

I'm an Adult (Maybe).

It's true that this past Thursday was my 29th birthday, and yes, it's also true that my 30th is hiding in the bushes around the corner waiting to pounce and stab me to death. So, in honor of my newly inherited age, I figured it'd be fun to subjectively list off some of the "adult" qualities I've inherited over the years, as well as many of the "immature" qualities I've maintained and cultivated since birth.

Please feel free to study each list and determine for yourself if it's appropriate and just for me to state that I'm 29-years-old. I mean, I'll stop if you feel like I'm insulting adulthood by being 29 at this moment in time. No worries, I'll understand. But if you do feel like my new age is justifiable, then I guess I'll be out tomorrow buying a new cardigan and finally learning how to play golf.


I maintain a nine to five job to some degree, meaning I work at least 40 hours a week.

I own a relatively expensive suit and several ties.

I run and exercise regularly.

I make my bed every day.

I dust.

I have impeccable credit and always pay my bills on time.

I have short hair and an expensive pair of glasses.

I take several vitamins a day.

I remember the last time the Reds won the Wold Series.

I own my own knife set and many other kitchen utensils, including an electric can opener.

I am not embarrassed to go out to eat with my mom.

I pretend to read the New York Times, just like every other adult.

I am generally debilitated by a hangover the next morning.

I remember the last time the Bengals were in the Super Bowl.

I generally spend at least $15 on myself alone when eating out.

I watch my diet and am careful to include vegetables, proteins, and what not in my meals.

I don't like PBR, and I truly think Budweiser is a good beer.

I have a coat rack in my apartment as well as a couch from Ikea.

I am obsessively punctual and own more than one watch.

I am meticulous about remembering all of my friends birthdays.

I am a good tipper and care about the specials at restaurants.

I make dentist and doctor appointments simply for checkups.

I can maintain a thoughtful conversation with anyone if it involves sports.

I read novels averaging over 300 pages.

I play fantasy baseball.

I don't understand your haircut because it's too damn complicated.

Not so Adult

I drive a '97 Honda Civic with a cracked windshield and a missing side view mirror.

I don't shower daily.

I wear whatever I want to work, primarily consisting of (skinny) jeans and t-shirts (several with holes).

I don't separate my laundry into color categories.

I still use my college ID for student discounts at the movies.

I have never bought a pair of pajamas.

I am single and not even remotely close to having a child.

I know I am too irresponsible to care for any pet.

I can eat an entire frozen pizza without even feeling challenged.

I don't own my own set of dishes or silverware.

I am reliant on my mom to remind me about daylight saving time.

I have a CD collection devoid of Built to Spill, Modest Mouse, and Beck albums.

I still use milk crates as a prime organization tool.

I want to get more tattoos.

I cannot grow any facial hair, ever.

I can skip town on a whim for vacation or camping without any real consequences.

I cook many of my meals in a toaster oven.

I have a job that encourages me to know a shit ton about music and go to shows for free (all the time).

I don't live in the suburbs.

I have never worn cologne and generally find coffee disgusting.

I will occasionally put potato chips on a sandwich because it's delicious.

I own too many pairs of sneakers and too few dressy, fashionable shoes.

I would play hide-and-seek, laser tag, or enjoy a moonbounce at the drop of a hat.

I spit constantly.

I have framed band posters hanging on my wall.

I have absolutely no idea why Two and a Half Men is the #1 comedy in America.

I love to curse at any appropriate or inappropriate time.

So, what's the verdict? I've offered up two solid lists here, and lord knows there's no gray area in the argument. It's either one or the other (now that I think about it, my lack of wishy-washyness probably could've been added to the adult side of things).

With all that being said, let's completely change gears and take a look at my motherfucking stellar fantasy baseball roster this season. That's a pretty fucking adult thing to do. Don't you think? You're goddamn right it is.

C Geovany Soto
1B Joey Votto
2B Dustin Pedroia
3B Ryan Zimmerman
SS Stephen Drew
OF Justin Upton
OF Carlos Lee
OF Andrew McCutchen
UTIL Ben Zobrist
Bench Denard Span
Bench Chris Davis
Bench Alcides Escobar

Pitchers: Tim Lincecum, Dan Haren, Tim Hudson, Matt Garza, Hiroki Kuroda, Gavin Floyd, Andrew Bailey, Brian Fuentes

Fuck yeah.