I don't even have time to finish the posts I want to write, but here we go again! It's another edition of party-time fun post brought to you by the people of Captain Morgan liquor products. Is that their name? Let me look that up.
Wow, wouldn't you know? It's a division of Diageo, which also owns Smirnoff, Johnny Walker and Guinness. That makes me think of the line cooks that worked at Jack-in-the-Box. Many had side jobs working at Applebee's.
Anyway, since I have no idea what to write and since I have no experience tailgating, let me impart two things I do know about: finding a good beer and making a good sandwich.
Finding a good beer
If you didn't know, one major cause of "skunking" is light. From the mighty Beer Advocate:
What does light-struck mean?
This is when the beer has been exposed to ultraviolet light for a period of time. Hop-derived molecules, called isohumulones, are basically ripped apart. Some of these parts bind with sulfur atoms to create that "skunk" character, which is similar in character to a skunk's natural defense and is such a potent compound that parts-per-trillion can be detected and even ruin a beer. Although brown bottles aid in protecting beer from being light-struck, it hardly makes the beer invincible. Green or clear bottles provide little to no protection. And it's been said that bottled beer can become light-struck in less than one minute in bright sun, after a few hours in diffuse daylight, and in a few days under normal fluorescent lighting.
So, the first thing any person that enjoys beer should do -- and by enjoys beer, I don't mean a person that drinks beer as a relatively socially acceptable form of getting messed up, I mean someone that actually enjoys the taste of beer -- is consider where you are buying beer from. If you're buying from somewhere that bathes your beer in light all day and every day until it's snatched up and choked down by some poor fool, then you should probably stop. If you're buying beer from a supermarket, and I assume most of us do, then take a moment and sort a few rows deep for a beer that's covered and protected on all sides by other beers. It's not fool proof, but it's a start. Or you can buy cans.
The next thing I would suggest, master drunkard I am not, is to respect your own palate. At some age, young for some, deep in the ravages of age for so, so many, almost everyone comes to a point in their life where they just do not care what others think of them anymore. Good. Better than good. Hell yeah. I, for instance, think Lagunitas tastes like liquefied clown farts. Am I right? Of course I'm right. I think it taste like, you see, and whatever I think, it doesn't matter to the next guy that can choke down that effin treacle Brown Suggah. It's good to know what you like and feel confident in what you like and not enforce that on anyone else, because it's taste not truth.
The nice thing about knowing what you like and not worrying if what you like is right is, besides not falling for ridiculous pitches like "Volkswagen makes fun cars!" or "PBR is hip because it aligns with youth culture", it allows you to kind of know by extension what else you might like. I drink beer and drink it slow and drink good beer, but I still can't pick out every flavor I am supposed to. I can, however, figure out characteristics I know I like. I like a well-carbonated beer. Flat beer turns me off. And so I like most of what North Coast does. I like a balanced beer, and so the hit you over the head hops-forward beers like Victory makes mostly turn me off.
And the final thing I would suggest, apart from not drinking out of the bottle -- Jesus Christ does it anger me when I see someone with a quality brew drinking it out of the bottle. Just drink frickin Hamms if you're going to ruin it with your laziness or desperate attempt at looking blue collar -- is, and this is great advice for liking music, liking art, liking films, loving books, etc, like what you like and accept YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS RIGHT OR WRONG OR WHAT IS COOL TO LIKE OR WHAT IS LAME.
I remember, I had just transferred to a college and I had met this real intellectual fellow in the newspaper office. As it turned out, we took the same bus and we sat together. Kind of an oil and water thing right away, but I try. He asked me what my favorite movie was, and having lived in a wreck of an apartment with my best friend Ian for a few years, I thought about the movie that I enjoyed the most. It was simple: Pulp Fiction. Ian and I loved the movie, but in a way, we loved the in-joke of how much we knew about and could quote the movie even more. And so I answered: Pulp Fiction. And he responded: Well that's a toolish pick. Not easily intimidated by jackholes that look down their nose at me, I asked him what his favorite movies was, and he answered: Spartacus.
Now, I don't know or even care whether this is in fact the movie he enjoys most. Answering "Spartacus" isn't quite like answering "The Seventh Seal" but it was the way he puffed his chest and smirked and said it like it was an achievement that turned me off. Don't be that guy. If you like something, be it beer, be it Budweiser or Starship Troopers or later Weezer, who cares? You like it. We'll try and leave it off your headstone.
Well, I've probably satisfied the basic requirements for this post. The key to a good sandwich is good ingredients. There, so I covered that too. Cheers, brothers in Blue, and forgive me tirades, God gifted me with little restraint and less brains.