What I'm Drinking

Speaking of beer...this is what I'm drinking right now.

It's from Breckenridge Brewery in Colorado called Small Batch 471. My wife picked it up for me (she knows just what I like, what a gal) the other day and it has been wonderful. This one is not for the weak of taste bud though. Actually the website said it was created to "separate the weak from the strong." It is very hoppy, befitting the style of a double IPA, and wonderfully delicious. It has a deep amber color and great head retention down to the last drop. It has a sweet mouth feel and is bitter, very bitter, so if that is not your style, then this is not your beer. It's not readily available so you'll have to do some looking, but it's well worth the search.

Cheers...

Wonderful World of Beer

One of my favorite things is beer. Don't get me wrong, it's not a love like a frat guy "loves" beer. I can honestly say that I can have a beer with supper and truly enjoy the flavor and all around taste of a well crafted brew. I have found that beer is a very complex beverage and reaches far beyond the public perception of what the macro-breweries offer. This perception is that macro-brewed light beer is "beer" for all intents and purposes. This simply is not true. If you were to broaden your horizons, you might find that you actually enjoy flavor in your beer, that there is more to it that just a vehicle for alcohol. I'm not trying to put anyone down. If you like the macro-brewed light beer, then I say drink it, that's fine with me. But if you want to step out for a bit and try something new, you might be pleasantly surprised at what you might like.

Those thinking about trying it might have a few misconceptions about craft-brewed beer. I am going to address the three big ones that I have encountered over the past few years and dispel them:

1. Avoid "bitter beer face."
--This campaign really took craft beer a step back. It is completely untrue. Bitterness in beer is something you want, something the beer needs. Finding the right balance of hoppy bitterness and the sweetness of the malt is something brewers painstakingly strive for. It is a good thing for a beer to have bitterness or else you would end up with a sugary drink somewhat resembling a child's beverage. What "they" were referring to is avoiding skunky beer, beer that is too old or has been exposed to light. That is definitely something to avoid, but leave the bitterness alone.

2. I just don't like that "dark stuff."
--This is a misconception that many people have. They think to step outside of the macro-brewed beer means that will have to start drinking dark beer. Absolutely not true on many different levels. I have had a dark, black beer was as light and smooth as a light beer, and conversely I have had a straw colored beer that was heavier than a stout. There are many different styles to try. Don't limit yourself to thinking dark beer=craft-brew drinker. There are some wonderfully delicious beers that are light, crisp, and refreshing such as a Hef, or a Kolsch, or a nice Wheat. Take your time and work up to what you feel comfortable with, and you'll be fine.

3. Craft brew drinkers are "beer snobs."
--Yes, I like my craft brew. However, I will not turn down an offered macro-brew just because it is what it is. In fact, sometimes I like to pop open a macro-brew after mowing the lawn, it just hits the spot. Nice and cold, easy to drink, it's quite refreshing. If given a choice though, I would probably always choose a craft brew. Once you come over to our side, that doesn't mean you can't go back.

Take it for what it's worth. Give it a try if you want, if not, that's fine too. Just know that there are some really wonderful beers out there that go relatively unnoticed by a majority of the population. If anyone wants a suggestion of one they should try, let me know and I'll try to help. And as always, drink responsibly and don't drink and drive.

Running

I like to run. Until this summer, it had been awhile since I ran on a consistent basis. Even now though, I'm not all that consistent. In an attempt to earn back an iota of former physical "glory," I have come to the depressing realization that that would not happen anytime soon. So, I started getting complacent, a nice word for lazy. Boy how easily the excuses came each morning: "It's too much of a hassle to run in the rain...Gosh, it sure looks windy out today...I'll use this morning to catch up from the weekend and start up again tomorrow..." Pretty soon, I wasn't running anymore.

Then, just yesterday I saw a story on the news that changed it all. There was a small boy, about 4 or 5 years old who was born without knees. He had to have his legs amputated to this thighs. He grew up having about as normal of a life as he could without legs, but his parents could see how much he desperately wanted to be outside, running and playing with the other kids. The doctors thought it would never work, but they fit him with a pair of those "blades," the curved, metallic extensions that seem to spring as you step. The look on his face when he began to bound down the hall broke your heart and lifted it at the same time. It was determination and elation all in one. He could run. He raced his doctor and anyone else willing to toe the starting line. Before long ran a mile long race of his own...smiling with every step.

It was such an inspiration that it shamed me. For twenty some odd years I have had the ability to run any time I wanted. There has never been anything to stop me except the excuses I made. It made me think not only of my legs, but how many other things I take for granted every day. I stopped with the excuses, and you can be sure that my butt was on the road this morning and will be tomorrow as well...smiling with every step.

Top 10

The top 10 most memorable days of my life:

October 7, 1983 - My first day.

November 13, 2001 - The day I started making decisions for myself.

May 19, 2002 - My Independence Day.

August 22, 2002 - The day I said hello.

January 1, 2004 - The first day of the best job I would ever have.

July 2, 2005 - The day I decided two was infinitely more than one.

May 27, 2006 - The day she said I do.

December 1, 2006 - The day I learned of my new purpose in life.

May 19, 2007 - The day I said goodbye.

August 20, 2007 - The day that I became a father.

Who Am I? Part 2

I received a lengthy, and very appreciated comment on a previous post titled "Who Am I?" As I mentioned in the post, it is the cause of some discussion. Instead of commenting on the original, I thought I would revisit the topic by posting her comment, then discussing with my own opinion.

Ashley wrote:
Who am I? I have no idea. I received a “B” in a class titled ‘Understanding the Self’, I second guess myself all the time, and I perpetually change my mind. I’m not qualified, by any means, to explain “What makes you, you?” However, I have put “a little” thought into this, and all I’ve come up with are more questions. Josh, you answered this mystery the best you possibly could in the amount of space allocated. And yes, I think you’re a la carte version as a whole answers the question, but let me pose this to you…

-If you are defined by your memories or simple events, what made you react to that situation the very first time? Doesn’t your personality (which I have read in a peer reviewed journal is 93% genetics) have an influence on your decisions,likes/dislikes, overall demeanor, and interpersonal relationships? In that case, how much free will do we have if we are predisposed to react to certain stimuli due to the configuration of our genes? And, what role do our moods and emotions play in how we respond to people, places, and things. So I ask, biologically, how much of an influence do your genes play in who you are?

-Can you choose to be a “meta-reference” and be “intentionally left blank”? I have heard several stories about people who completely change their life around all by the power of the mind. And don’t some actors actually try to become the character they are playing in a film in order to portray the role accurately? So I ask, how much of an influence does the brain itself have to play in this confounded question? Or does that relate back to your genes?

I believe that I have a soul and that a higher being is leading me down a predestined path; however, I also believe that I have been given the freedom of choice so as to choose how I would like to get from point A to point B of that path. Everything in life happens for a reason. This cause and effect relationship teaches all of us valuable lessons in life and leads us into this state of constant change. Because we are permanently changing will we ever really be able to identify “Who am I?” Sorry, Josh, all I can offer are questions.

My response to Ashley:
Ah, I'm glad you mentioned free will, one of my other favorite topics to discuss, I won't get into it now though. You asked, "How much free will do we have if we are predisposed to react to certain stimuli due to the configuration of our genes?" A well put question indeed. My answer would be that free will has to do with the choice, not the reaction to that choice. Sure, we might be predisposed and have no control on how we will react to the stimuli based on our genes as you said, but we sometimes have a choice of whether or not to engage in that stimuli, that's where free will kicks in. I'll set forth an example. If you had never had onions on your hamburger and you were faced with a choice today: a burger with onions or a burger without onions, you have free will to choose one or the other (theoretically). You choose with onions. The moment you bite into that burger your brain then decides whether it is a favorable or unfavorable reaction to the stimulus of the overall taste of onions. Yuck, you don't like onions. You don't like the feel of them in your mouth, or the smell of them as you chew. That reaction, as you have put forth, may be a genetic disposition. You had no control over the reaction, but you clearly chose to engage in the testing of the stimulus, thus reinstating free will. Now, on a tangential note about choices. The many worlds theory would say that even though you made the choice to get onions on your burger, there is still another version of you out there that at the same time is eating, and enjoying for the sake of our discussion, an onion free burger. All choice possibilities exist in the universe because each and every moment exists and it is our mind in each situation that make the choice we make real.


Now, on to your next question: "Can you choose to be a meta-reference?" I don't think you can choose to be a meta-reference. Instead I think that it is something you can strive for, something you can achieve. A meta-reference has awareness, it knows what it is and it's purpose. So to me, striving to be a meta-reference is the same as striving to know who you are as a person, breaking free of the constructs or script of life and "marching to the beat of your own drum" because that is who you are. Ultimately, that is what we want to achieve, right? Being completely happy and loving who we are no matter the circumstances, knowing our purpose and being aware that we are living and able to acknowledge ourselves as whole. I would like to be a meta-reference in that case.

The fact of the matter is that there is no answer. Even as I write this I can think of 3 to 4 things at least that would falsify or put into serious question everything that I just said, and I didn't even touch on some of your comments due to the length. So in a sense, the search continues and will ever be continuing with the questions. All I can do in the mean time is exist and be the best person I know how to be taught to me by my parents, their parents before them, and the influence of my friends and peers around me. You had it just right. We are in a perpetual state of minuscule changes. It's what keeps us going, letting us know that we exist, we're alive, that we just, are in the universe. And maybe knowing that is ultimately all that matters.

Untitled

When does the guise of shy and complacent turn to the reality of cold and tempestuous? When you hear this, "If you make that noise one more time, I swear I will rip out your tongue and make you wear it as an eye patch."

I believe they call that "snapping."

Loan Application For an Evil Overlord

Dear Mr. Vader-

I regret to inform you that we will not be approving your application for a first time home buyer's loan. Your unemployment has raised some legitimate concerns about your ability to make the regular payments. Also, we noted in your credit file that you recently defaulted on your last loan of 1 billion Imperial Credits for the construction of your Death Star. Apparently you were unable to recover financially after your son blew it up and you killed the emperor, your cosigner on the loan. Furthermore, no evidence has been shown that you have overcome this setback.

We realize it may be hard to find employment with the current state of the economy, and see from your records that you have been applying for various positions. We would be happy to revisit your application once you have found a steady source of income.

On that note, I have attached for your consideration an application for a bank security position. I found your presence to be very intimidating and perception especially sharp. Let me know your level of interest and we may be able to work you into an interview in the near future.

Thank you for your interest in First Union National State Bank of America.


Lucas George Sr.
President, FUNSBA
886-935-2455
lgeorge@funsba.com

The Windows

There are seven windows along the north side of my office. I can only make out the top halves of each of them from my cubicle without stretching. I only see a row of sky, slate blue sky today. An occasional bird soars by and asks me what I am doing in there. My reply doesn't reach them. The void that is my workspace acts as a vacuum in which no sound can escape, but the torturous sounds of my neighbor's bodily functions still reach my ears. The breeze looks pleasant today, the sun nice and warm. I won't feel them though until it is too late to enjoy them, in which time the vacuum will have sucked all of the ambition out of me. There are seven windows along the north side of my office. And I hate them.


Damn the electric fence. Damn the electric fence.

Tick Warning

This is a PSA for all of you out there.

I received this email a couple of days ago, and I usually don't pass along things like this, but I think it is important for you to know.

If someone comes to your front door saying they are checking for ticks due to the warm weather and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up, DO NOT DO IT!! THIS IS A SCAM!! They really aren't checking for ticks. They only want to see you jump up and down while naked. I wish I would have known this a few days ago.



Knowing is half the battle...

Resistentialism

Out with the old: "A watched pot never boils."

In with the new: "A watched queue never prints."



Damn resistentialism...

I Have Seen the Fnords

I have been deconditioned...I can now see the fnords.

Rest assured there are no "fnords" in my writing, just as there are no "fnords" in advertisement. The only way to see them and stop the discordia is to become deconditioned as I have. Once you are able to see the "fnord" it will no longer have the effect on you.

Get out from under the thumb of the government! See the fnords for yourself! Viva la resistance!

I have seen the fnords.

Music

Sometimes you get it just right. The blinker keeps time with the bass line. The instrumental solo crescendos when "she" walks into the room. Sometimes an unexplainable consonance occurs without you even knowing it, like the music is somehow a soundtrack for your life. A good song is entertainment, audio waves filling a void of silence. A great song however...that has purpose. You hear the lyrics, harmonies, and melodies and are swept away in a feeling that at that point in time there could not be a more poignant, telling description of your life, and even if for a few minutes, everything will be okay.

Wiest

"Friends are like a fist full of sand. When you let them go, the littler grains will slip between the cracks of your fingers, but the greatest ones will stick to your hand and will not fall through."

--Chris McKenna, 2005

I've felt like a little grain of sand lately, slipping through the proverbial fingers of many whom I have had the pleasure of calling friends. It comes with a great deal of guilt, of thinking I was never going to be this out of touch, but before I knew it, three months had past and I realized that I can no longer recall their numbers from memory. I have no regrets, I love my life and would not wish it any different. However, a part of me misses the past.

I think about my friends with a delightful reverence and I long for the times we spent living together in Wiest Hall. Times of Stan the Gun, "council" meetings, and on-call poker. Road trips taken for crushes and Heisman trophy winners alike, Tiger Woods golf, and real golf off of the roof, bluffs, and anything in between. I miss the front desk, Rose, Susan, and "those dirty bastards." Back then the nut fry made sense and your rank in life was determined by NCAA Football 2005. A door was always open and though the cafeteria was never any good, there was always someone to eat with.

Wiest holds a lot of memories for me. For the past 37 years it has stood sentinel over the southern end of campus, and for three of those years, it was home to my friends and me. I'm sure I'm not the only one who misses those times above and countless more unmentioned. They were some of the best times of my life. I grabbed a big fistful of sand back then, and many grains have stuck. I only hope that somewhere out there, I'm stuck to someone's hand too.

The Drive

He drove in a very unassuming sort of way. For once following the speed limit posted on the sign, one hand on the wheel languidly waving at strangers, passersby, though many went unreturned. He wore sunglasses that didn't quite fit right, and he kept the window rolled down and an arm thrust out to the open despite the heat. Songs played loudly that he knew by heart, not from memory, and he shouted the well worn words at the wind in defiance. His destination was a secondary concern, a necessary means for this instance, and ample justification for the forthcoming drive.

Beware

There are two things I do: chew bubble gum and kick ass...

and I'm all out of bubble gum.

4th of July

Happy Birthday America...

Love

My two greatest loves...

A One Sided Phone Conversation

mmmhey baby...

What is she doing wearing a dadgum swimsuit for?

Now why did she dress that child like that?

She dressed herself?

Monnnnnkey see monkey do...

Too bad monkey can't see what monkey do...

Ha ha...

Did she at least bring clothes?

I just knew you was going to the park...

Well shorts is one thing, a swimsuit's another...

Yeah...

Oh I believe it...

Did you finally got that pill down him...

I know, I know, it's uncalled for...

Well, as he tends to put it, we're trying to kill him...

Well, I just hope he doesn't repeat what you said...

Alrighty baby...

Okie dokie...

mmmbye baby.

Love That Youtube

Some oldies for some, but they are probably my four favorites. Kids are so funny.

Eureka!

So I'm a little embarrassed about this, but here goes. I was speaking with a friend about a junior high math problem I was having trouble remembering. You've heard it, the one that asks if it takes Billy a certain amount of time to paint a house and Sally a certain amount of time, how long would it take them together? When trying to recall the answer to the question, I thought I remembered that there was some sort of catch. I was using the times of one hour apiece and telling myself that it could not be 1/2 an hour total, that I was missing a step. It was driving me crazy.

And then, as Einstein said, a storm broke in my mind. Now when this happened to him, he had just discovered the theory of relativity; my accomplishment was slightly less than that. I realized, as you probably have already figured out, that I was completely wrong--there is no catch when they are working at the same rate. If Billy and Sally are working at the same rate of 1 house per hour, when they paint together their time will indeed be reduced by half, resulting in 1/2 an hour to paint one house.

Now then, the "catch" if you will, comes when they would happen to work at different rates. If Billy works at a rate of 1 house/3 hours and Sally paints at a rate of 1 house/5 hours, how long would it take them together? I remembered that some people would just say 3 + 5 = 8 and 8/2=4, so 4 hours is the answer right? Wrong, you need to remember the rate. 1/3 + 1/5 = 8 houses in 15 hours, reduced down by cross multiplication to 1 house in 1 hr 52 min and 30 sec. That is how long it would take them to paint the house together.

Einstein may rest easy. I don't think I'll be challenging his genius quite yet.