Me and Mine – Page 24 – A Good Beer Blog

I Get To Vote Next Week – What To Do?

This year’s provincial election confirms again that Ontarianada continues to define the nation but still is shy of itself. The issues here are the issues of the land but no one is really talking about them. The laws created here will be copied, the wealth will support schools and hospitals nationwide – with nary a peep of reluctance or, reciprocally, gratitude.

There is a new idea that has barely registered with an acronym that I honestly do not know the meaning of – though I will in about 14 seconds when I go read what brother #1 wrote over the weekend about MMP or “Mixed Member Proportional” voting. He points out some valid concerns but I will likely vote for it as the present concerns are too obvious. Anything to get a new voice or two into the public mindset and, hey, minority legislative assemblies work. In fact if there was a referendum allowing us to cap the seats of the biggest party at a majority or minority of the seats, I know which way I would be voting.

All of which leads me to the fact that I have not apparently written anything on this blog or the beer blog about the PPPP or Polska Partia Przyjaciół Piwathe Polish beer drinkers party of the early 90s that won seats in that country’s legislative assembly in the early elections after the fall of Communism. Sort of their Rhino party or the revived Neorhinos. I had to figure out why the kids in my class kept saying “pa-pa-pa-pa!” – not to mention why they always quoted Scandinavian heavy metal. I am sure I wrote about the PPPP. You know, it’s probably a vestigial memory of the world pre-blog when I actually emailed people I knew before the internet.

But whatever it was, now I say “MMP for the PPPP.”

Trying To Recall Cafe Wim

I don’t know why I woke up and asked myself what it was I liked to order at the long shut Cafe Wim on Sussex near the market in Ottawa in the mid-90s. I was awake the best part of an hour involuntarily trying to remember. There are enough references on the internet but I can’t find a picture of the large Dutch flag flapping out front facing the HQ of Revenue Canada. I think it might have just been the pot…no, basin of cafe au lait, open faced sandwishes on rye with thin onion, the college lassies in black and bulky sweaters reading and smoking, pre-wi-fi, the mismatched furniture and the staff who exuded accusations of poserism as they themselves posed. In the back there was the semi-abandoned odd dark split levels of Expo-67-meets-Holland furnishings, beyond that a patio. I was there the weekend before the last Quebec Referendum. It was like this but this is not it. It was a stage on a Saturday afternoon before ending at Irene’s.

Last Weekend Of Summer

Somewhere in America I hit two 30 yard field goals. I could do that when I was a skinny kid but haven’t done it for close to 30 years.

Not really that hard to believe given I filled the gap with at least 20 years of semi-regular soccer but it is a different skill than that round ball with all its room for forgiveness. But I am way too big. I need to do a Ben. So I bought a bench. I need to find my inner ox within my outer Dom Deluise. It’s a good bench. At only 89 bucks USD at a Dick’s it’s what I can use rather than snap.

Ontario: Grand River Brewing, Cambridge, RMW

If Canada has a hub of microbrewing, a very good argument could be made that it is in the cluster of smaller cities around Kitchener-Waterloo, Cambridge and Guelph about an hour west of Toronto. Off the top of my head I can think of seven or eight breweries in the area. Maybe there are more but however many there are the newest is Grand River Brewing in Cambridge’s old Galt district.

We stopped in on a two day weekend zip across the Province and were very happy we did. Although they have not been open long, they already have ten draught accounts including some with the finer beer bars of Toronto – and apparently a brisk trade in growlers if our short time at the place was any indication. The brewery is housed in an old knife factory, a long and narrow building lit by sunlight. Even on the largely grey day when we were there, there was plenty to see in the large reception hall and the adjoining brewing rooms and plenty to sample, too.

I heard about Grand River from the discussion on The Bar Towel, like this thread discussing Grand River’s Mill Race Mild. Hearing there was a mild out there to be had was reason enough to stop to check it out given all the interest in session beers as well as my own home brewing interest in milds. But when I got there I found out from one of the owners, Bob Hanenberg, that all of their four beers are under 4.7% and that these sorts of beers was to be their focus. We tried them all and, honestly, all were among the best Canadian micros I have ever tried. Even with the area’s natural hard water, the two lagers and two ales were all rich and more-ish with the mild being the favorite. At 3.5%, it had plenty of grainy and nutty texture and, frankly, it was as big in body than most micros made in Ontario of any style. I took away a number of 15.75 CND (including 5 buck deposit so a good deal) growlers of the mild as well as their rich and hoppy Plowman’s ale, a green hoppy pale ale that was also nicely rich.

I will give a more detailed review of the two brews that I brought home soon but suffice it to say that this is a brewery that is trying and achieving something new – lower alcohol, full flavoured beers with no compromise. Go find them.

Power Turns On The Ferry

Yesterday, we took the Glenora ferry over to Prince Edward County. Easlakia is a ferry fan’s dream with five within an hour of HQ and more in the hinterland like those on the Ottawa river and Lake Champlain. Yet, I have never had the ferry captain put on a show like yesterday when, apparently as a surprise for one young passenger brought up to the wheelhouse, he did a couple of power turns. I got a bit of a movie of it: [Ed.: remember we use super slow technology for these short short films – in this case a 7.5 MB .avi file]. As you see the landscape zip by, appreciate that the camera is facing the bow and not one of the sides of the ship.

The Ontarios Against The Excelsiors Circa 1873

It was a fantastic time except I had to assist a crank (fan) after a keener and later mortified muffin (person of little experience and skill) let a bat fly into the stands. All is well and you can rest assured that the ER at the Samaritan Medical Center is dandy and the Sacketsonians are extremely kind…but, other than a wicked warm-up of many solid contacts, I missed playing our game but still caught a bit of the senior game between the Sackets Harbor Ontarios and the Rochester Excelsiors. High neato quotient nonetheless and greater plans are in the works.

Vintage Base Ball Tomorrow

Some neato happening tomorrow as a small group of vehicles will leave Kingston filled with guys who are going to play a game in another country that they have never played before. Heck, even though we’ve had a batting practice, all nine players have not even been in the same room together yet. But tomorrow we play vintage base ball, sort of the logical extension of the Kingston Society for Playing Catch.

What happened was there was a call out from Sackets Harbor, New York to tourism folk in Kingston to get a team together to take on their team, the Ontarios, in a game using circa 1865-1875 rules as part of their Can-Am summer festival. A team from Rochester is also coming. Kingston’s inclusion is warranted. Some research shows that in 1875 and not much before and not much after Kingston had a club, the St. Lawrence Base Ball Club, that had two levels of players – the Reds and the Brown Stockings – that briefly played at the highest level. In 1875, they played the Live Oaks of Lynn Massachusetts as well as another a team from New Haven, Connecticut which appear to be the teams that the two pitchers who claim to have invented the curve ball and beat one of them. In that year, they also seem to have beaten the Canadian Champions Guelph Maple Leaf Club as well as the London Tecumsehs. The next year, they appear to have joined Canadian Association of Base Ball but also went on a ill fated tour of central NY which led to most of the team being fired for indescribable conduct of some sort.

So we are holding ourselves out as the echo of the mighty St. Lawrence. It is an exploratory game, not only to see if we are any good and even if we are not to learn the rules and exactly which rules are to be used from the quickly moving post-Civil War period but also to check out the sort of uniforms and equipment might be needed to do this right. For tomorrow we are dressing something like Mennonite cricket players but I did buy a bat as well as a couple of lemon peel balls from the Phoenix Bat Company of Columbus, Ohio. The lemon peel has no core and is a bit bigger than a modern ball which makes it a bit easier to handle – which is good because we do not wear gloves.

So likely some photos tomorrow. Best of all, it is being sponsored by the Sackets Harbor Brewing Company, the good folks of which I have had the pleasure of getting to know through beer blog work. This bodes very well for lunch, whatever the score.

Eating In Portland

In case you are wondering we are doing OK but you would be if you had Beal’s Ice Cream (hard ice cream specialists), Red’s Dairy Freeze (soft serve specialists), Maine Diner on the way here (lobster roll and chowder), Gritty McDuff’s (lamb burder and cask ale), 3 Dollar Dewey’s (fish sandwich but shockingly no smoked fish chowder), baseball game hot dogs (plain please), Beale Street BBQ (bulk ribs…say that again…bulk ribs), Scratch Baking Co. (blondies and peabean coffee) and a trip to Hannaford for a side of salmon and enough scallops to stuff seven for under thirty-eight bucks. Scratch Baking was a bit of a surprise. Even though it is a few blocks away, I had it in my head it was pricey. Not so. Blondies for $1.75. And fine beer and wine, too. Achoffe IPA and a half Cantillon for $6.99. Nutty. But seeing as owner Bob co-founded Magic Hat Brewing of Burlington, VT it makes sense. Portland is the new Burlington, you know.

Three Signed Balls

So we are out early at the ball park to get a good seat behind home. We are all covered in red to fit in with the minor league Red Sox crowd. The kids say they want to get the balls signed. I had three that I had bought for 500 Up and the kids wanted to bring them just in case and away I go, off on a fool’s errand, thinking that I would get some old guy selling programs to sign when a nice lady in a staff shirt tells me to stand over there. “Over there” is a little pen with guys with big cameras and other guys with binders of memorabilia. So we stand and we wait and after a few minutes the kids start to complain. A lesson in patience or a lesson in dashed dreams. I know not which but either is good for a kid in grade three. Then a Reading player comes over, a memorabilia guy shouts Michael, he signs and turns and his back says “Garciaparra” – Michael, not Nomar however. The kids aren’t satisfied. They don’t want no stinking Reading players autograph. So we wait. Nothing. Then a guy walks out. A kid. A tall skinny kid with 11 on his back. He lifts a finger and then walks away. “Awwww” the kids say. I hear “awwww” again and a huff for good measure. But then Mr. 11 comes back, signs a memorabilia thing for a memorabilia guy and I hear myself say from the back “can these three kids get their balls signed?” and he says sure and a path opens to the front. Three red dressed kids are scooted forward and he signs each one with a neat and natty signature but I can’t read the name and he walks away in one direction and the kids and I go in another.

Back in the stands, we show the balls and say who is number 11? Apparently Clay Buchholz was Boston’s Minor League Player of the Year in 2006 and he beat Roger Clemens in his last start. More ball cases now needed.

Facebook Thoughts

Now that I am obsessed with Facebook and expect the feeling to continue for the next sixteen days or so, it gets hard to actually read news and, you know, blog. Blogs have readers and hits but I have friends at Facebook – including that guy who insists we took a course together in New Jersey last summer. But you can understand entirely why sensible employers are cracking down as it is an utter time suck with little or no real productive use. Not the greatest co-worker though there is that picture of the guy you did not keep up with from the time he ate pickled eggs and took off his pants.

Apparently Facebook may have a death wish, however, as it wants to reinvent itself:

Facebook Inc. has bucked the Silicon Valley acquisition trend, remaining independent of larger technology companies. Now the social-networking start-up is seeking ways to reach the big leagues on its own. On Thursday, the Palo Alto, Calif., company will announce a new strategy to let other companies provide their services on special pages within its popular Web site. These companies will be able to link into Facebook users’ networks of online friends, according to people familiar with the matter.

Translation? You are about to be spammed. Yik…it’s going to get on my favorite t-shirt and everything. But with a really useful interface, an explosion of activity recently as well as talk of billions and billions of revenue from the stock market who can blame the 22 year old geek who created the thing. Show him the money.

Oh, well. Like most things it will be fun for a while then work then moved on from and then an embarrassment then forgotten then remembered then finally forgotten and one guy in his mid-forties with wads of cash will tell his pals at the yacht club again about how he made a killing when he was 22. Unless he doesn’t take the cash.