The Hammerhead Diaries
McMenamins John Barleycorn (
Where to begin? First of all, they’re fucking OUT of Workingman’s Red. My favorite seasonal beer of all time and they’re…. uh, just plain out. Funny, the little printed list at my table lists it proudly at the top, so my natural presumption is that they HAVE it. They don’t, it seems. Nor do they have any Purple Haze, but since it’s made with boysenberries, I’m okay with it. I wonder if anybody, even girls in pink skirts, would want it. Are they out, or are they just too ashamed to serve it?
So… first beer, the ol’ standby: Hammerhead Ale. There is none finer.
The list (which I’m loathe to look at again) looks the same as last time. It’s been… what, three months since my last entry? One of the benefits of only coming here every few months is the ever-changing list, which provides me with new beers to critique right here, in this very column. If the list is the same as last time… well shit, I’ve got nothin’.
I’ll still drink. I’ll still write. But it won’t be the same. Damn you, McMenamins!
No Sunflower IPA either. WTF, mate? While they do carry it in bottled form (as the mini-fridge in my home office will attest), it seems they don’t generally offer it on tap, since it’s brewed at their Edgefield establishment and not there. They’re currently offering a Spring Trainer IPA, which is on its way courtesy of the somewhat-frumpy waitress assigned to my mini-table (is it too much to ask for the hottie with the slammin’ hips and the bubble butt? Oh hell, one beer and the pig comes out!).
So…. Spring Trainer IPA. Mmm, very clean finish. Almost sharp, like a drop-off, leaving only a subtle bitterness behind. I say “subtle” because when it comes to IPAs, I’m all about the bitter, baby, and this one packs a bite, but it’s a pretty small one. Teresa may be able to drink this. The Sunflower Ale has a fairly strong bitter profile, so I’ve kinda come to expect it in an IPA. This particular McMenamins also offers a Nebraska Bitter, which I’ll be trying next.
Side note: as long as we’re discoursing on bitterness, I’ve gotta throw in a mad shout-out to my daughter Sierra, who recently turned 16, who is the reigning Bitter Bitch in my crib. She accompanied Teresa and I to a beer-and-cheese tasting last summer, and one of the microbreweries represented (Astoria Brewing Co.) was selling T-shirts advertising their Bitter Bitch IPA. Naturally, she just HAD to have one. I bought her one. I haven’t seen her wear it lately, but rest assured, she remains one seriously bitter bitch. Happy birthday, sweetie!
So what else is new? Well, I got my hair cut short today. REALLY short. Like, shorter than I’ve worn it in a few years. I’ve been growing it out for a while now, and it was starting to get (un)respectably long, but… well, summer’s fast approaching. Daddy don’t want no sweaty head. Thus, the hair had to go. And go it did. My hairdresser, Angie, seemed happy with my decision (and since she’s the one with the sharp objects, I’m inclined to go along with whatever she says). Speaking of Angie, she’s getting married two weeks from today, just a short walk from the spot where Teresa and I took the plunge almost three years ago (Canon Beach). Here’s hoping she gets decent weather. We certainly did… in fact, I got fucking barbecued on my wedding day, and spent the honeymoon beet-red and glistening (not as kinky as it sounds).
Other new stuff: finally pulled the trigger on an HD camcorder (the Canon HF-10, in case you were curious). This marks the first meaningful step towards a dream of mine becoming a reality: making an independent film. Screenplay’s already written… now I’ve got a camera good enough to shoot it. I still need a decent boom mike, some lights… oh, and some actors willing to work for free.
Speaking of which, I may have found my female lead. I was at CostCo today, buying a package of pre-cooked bacon (yeah, I’m that lame), and the boxgirl (or whatever the hell they’re called) caught my eye. Young, brunette, very animated. Her name was Mary (if her nametag was being honest). I overheard her talking to the customer in front of me about wines, so I assume she’s at least 21. She looks a bit young, but I could totally see her as Chloe (the main female character in my screenplay). I may have to hit CostCo again real soon and ask her if she’s done any acting. With my luck she’ll expect to get paid or something, especially when she hears that she’ll have to do sex scenes with two different guys (and maybe a girl too, if I ever add that extra scene that I’ve been thinking about).
Okay, beer #3: Nebraska Bitter. I’ve had this before. Have I written about it before? I dunno. A quick scan through my three previous Hammerhead Diaries entries says no (Christ, I started this endeavor 14 months ago, and I’m only one my FOURTH entry? I should get some kind of award for procrastination). Um… it’s pretty bland. There’s almost a citrusy quality, which IMHO shouldn’t exist in a bitter. And it’s not bitter at all. Jesus, I shouldn’t have to turn to an IPA for my bitter fix when there’s an actual BITTER beer on the menu. McMenamins, you’re starting to piss me off.
Stevie Nicks is sitting at the bar. Okay, not the current incarnation, but the chunky drug-addled version from the early 90’s. She’s talking to the bartender and nodding a lot. Maybe he’s telling her to go back to Fleetwood Mac before it’s too late. Oh shit, she just caught me looking at her. Heh, she sucked in her gut. I love that.
Speaking of guts…. Yeah, I’ve got one. I’ve gotta do something about that. It would be nice to hit 40 and not be a fatty. I’ve got a year and a half to lose the gut. Will he do it? Will this unfortunate sad sack drop the pounds in time for the big 4-0? Stay tuned!
Up next: the Royce Porter, apparently named after an employee here. This better be fucking awesome, otherwise I’m tracking this Royce character down and stepping on his throat.
Wouldn’t that be cool, having a beer named after yourself? I wonder what type of beer I’d want named after me… and what would it be called? Craig’s IPA? Bitter Beam? Mack Dizzle Ale? One of these days I’m gonna get one of those home-brewing kits and make my own, just you watch. The beer obsession grows with age.
A beer I’d buy: Alec Baldwin’s Schwetty Balls Ale. Just to display the bottle in my office. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you haven’t watched enough Saturday Night Live. If that’s the case, shame on you.
Okay, the Royce Porter: looks like iced coffee, tastes like iced coffee. Sierra would like this. Honestly, I’m expecting to find grounds at the bottom of the glass. Not loving this… but hell, it’s beer, so I’m gonna drink it. If there’s air, you breathe it. If there’s chips, you eat them. So it is with beer. Christ, I’m the guy who actually bought that hideous Budweiser and Clamato atrocity, if for no other reason than the fact that it contained alcohol.
Does that make me a drunk? Inquiring minds want to know!
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