Confessions of a By J. Beebs Reformed Beer Snob TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | SEPT 2017 39 I’m not sure which side of the argument you fall on when it comes to the theory of evolution… but there is one thing that everyone can agree on: we humans are adaptable. Adaptability might be our best defense to a hostile world. I mean Tibetans live at 12,000 feet above sea level with just 60% of the oxygen we have right down here near the ocean. Mongolians deal with winters that redefine the phrase “Jack Frost nipping at your nose” when the mercury hits -40F and your spit freezes in your mouth. And to keep it extreme, consider lovely Phoenix, Arizona, right here in the USA, where it’s so damn hot right now your sneakers will stick to the pavement. Yes, in all, we humans are highly adaptable. Sadly, I am not such a good adapter. I gasped for air the entire day we were at Park City, Utah, and that was a mere 7,000 feet above sea level. My worst nightmare is a combination of getting lost in Mongolia during a blizzard, blindly walking through the forest with my yak, only to magically emerge inside the Scottsdale Mall, right between Lush Cosmetics and Victoria’s Secret. Outside it is 127 degrees and people are melting, so I am required to endlessly wander the Scottsdale Mall with my yak for two straight months, waiting for October so I can finally leave the mall and go to an In-N-Out burger. I think Darwin just got it wrong for me… I didn’t get the evolutionary skill set. If the human race was dependent solely on my adaptability skills, we had better be located very close to a liquor store, a grocery store and book store. I guess I could live in a Walmart too. I think I remember living without Wi-Fi, but I can’t remember it, so let’s include that as well. For my optimum performance, I need to keep to my regular schedule, stores, and habits, and I’ll just leave the adapting to those better qualified to do it. Wait. There is one area… one part of me that is highly refined and adaptive. I have undergone a full evolution in this particular area. Yes, I have demonstrated an ability to adapt… to go full circle and survive. Friends, I bring the wisdom, adaptation, personal perseverance, and knowledge of a Reformed Beer Snob. Of course, I didn’t start out beersnobby. I started out young. And thirsty. My first forays into beer were in high school, just like the rest of you whippersnappers. In those youthful days, we would drink anything we could get. Old English, Colt 45, Schlitz Tall Boy, Pabst, oh the list goes on and on. They even had a generic beer called BEER. Yes, we drank that too. Sadly. The only requirement was that it was cheap, and preferably free. In hindsight, I realize it was probably these poor drinking decisions that were instrumental in my first serious career after high school - the US Military. In the military, I discovered why science believes male brains are not considered fully developed until age 25. I was not age 25. And, as I have mentioned, I did not have superpower adaptability skills, except in my said area of Beersnobbery. But I did have the amazing combination of youth and a paycheck. During this time, I’m certain amazing things were happening. Because, just like our ancestors, I evolved! I adapted to better beer. Coors! Budweiser! Suddenly, my focus wasn’t just on any crap beer. I had standards! And armed with a steady paycheck and some amazing friends, we did our best to educate ourselves on beers of the world. Corona, Modelo, and Dos Equis took me on a tour of the Mexican Riviera. I did my Europe phase with Heineken, Amstel, Stella, and of course Guinness. I even lost some time with Michelob Ultra, but don’t judge me because you know you have all tried it. My beer drinking was hijacked sometime in the early 2000’s by the Craft Beer Movement. Back in its infancy, the craft beer movement was just a few cool looking bottles made by the local chemist. It was fun to switch it up. But growing up in the Pacific Northwest marks you in ways that you can’t know until adulthood. And one of those marks is the craving for good craft beer. And the things you learn! IBUs (International Bitter Units!), ABV and ABW (Alcohol by Volume/Weight), SRM (Standard Reference Method), and OG/FG (Original Gravity/Final Gravity!). The craft brew scene has its own lingo (and yes, I could share it all to you, but I don’t want to restrict your own evolution/adaptation. So if you are reading this at a bar, ask your bartender what all that means, and ask for a flight of beers to test the various properties of each. PS – You’re welcome. PS again - Be a good tipper!). But the key to evolving is to change. To adapt. And sadly, I left the craft beer scene after making a very important discovery. And I’m going to pass this knowledge on to you, free of charge, dear reader. The important discovery is this: Craft Beer can mess you up! Because those three little initials ABV can pack some punch. As a general rule, if it has an ABV of above 10%, you’re going to be buzzed before you finish the pint. And three of those pints dear reader, will make it hard for you to be a productive citizen. And that’s the full circle of my beer adaptation. Nowadays, you’ll probably catch me with a Coors light. Because I’ve found I need my fingers to actually feel the keyboard when I type. And after three good craft beers, my typing sortofgoestoshit al ‘azsfdkjadsf= lk;jadfakl;asd adsf!!! #SDolj22=lkdsjnl;kl;kjk’asd Adflkaf Adflkjaf!! !!! ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz……… (Hmm. Joe here, at the Rusty Nail. Hi, not sure what was going on here, but on behalf of Mr. Beebs, goodnight!)
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