This is the next part of my experience at New Orleans on Tap, which is a fund raiser for the SPCA sponsored by The Bulldog. You don't necessarily need to the previous post, but it helps.
I live roughly 7-10 miles from City Park. I run between 7-10 miles on Saturdays, takes me anywhere from 90-120 minutes in the summer. That seemed like a possibility. However, I didn't want to end up at City Park completely covered in sweat just 65-70% covered, and dehydrated before I started sampling beer. Next thought was riding my bicycle, but same problem just shorter time to get to City Park. Therefore, I needed alternative ways of getting there, and driving was out of the question (over 200 beers to sample). Public transportation was the correct answer.
The way I operate public transportation is based on a simple system- is there an all day pass that allows me to jump on and off as many times I want and which modes will it allow me to utilize said pass? If a city has such a pass, I find the general direction I figure I'm suppose to go and jump on the first line. Once on transportation system, I check to see if I am going in the right direction or on the correct line. If not, jump off and find the right one. It might take longer to get somewhere, but it is way more fun. Recap: 1) Day pass 2) General direction 3) Check once on moving object to ensure you are on the correct route. 4) If not get off and repeat. 5) Find a map later.
New Orleans Regional Transportation Authority have buses and streetcars and an all day pass called the Jazzy Pass, which is three dollars and allows someone to hop on buses and streetcars all day. Perfect. The ancillary beauty of said pass is the fact that I don't have to remember to save coins for the ride home.
So not to bore you too much, I used feet, streetcars, and buses to get to City Park. I think it took about an hour of jumping on and off. It was a bright, sunny day and I was heading towards beertown, so all was right in the world.
I got my tickets to acquire samples and bands: one for being age appropriate and a second to get into the VIP area. My head was spinning with possibilities. I made a round to see all that was available. There were even two sections of homebrews as part of the cornucopia of beer. There were sample sizes (3oz) and for extra tickets a larger size (9oz). Some 3 oz cup beers cost 1-3 tickets, and the 9 oz cups were double whatever the 3 oz cups of beer. I had to plot out a course of action. Furthermore, the VIP section had beers that were not available in the other areas. There was also a selection of food to purchase.
Step 1: I ordered a drunken pig sandwich.
Step 2: Walk to VIP area because there were tables and umbrellas to block the sun.
Step 3: Ordered my first beer in the VIP tent (a 9oz to go with food)
Step 4: Map out beer consumption
The sandwich was really good, and I wish I could remember the people that I bought it from, but apparently beer was the only thing on my mind.
I had a favorite, but I will be reviewing that here.
Here is a list of some of my favorite beers that I enjoyed:
Cellar Door by Stillwater Artisan Ales
Class of '88 Barleywine Ale by Deschutes Brewery
American Wheat with Blueberries by Sweetwater Brewing Company
Ephemere Pomme by Unibroue
Miel Sauvage by Bayou Teche
There were a couple of homebrew that were amazing, but there names fail me.
Over the course of the day, I ran into a couple of people I knew, but without fail I ran into my cousin- Marianne. I really don't know how to describe her other than I can riff with her all night long- often times making me laugh hard enough to have streaming tears. Eight years my junior, but many of the same interest. During the Hurricane Issac last year, we stayed with her mom in Baton Rouge. The night was spent enjoying spirits, playing Cthulhu Gloom, and listening to Buffy the Musical on CD (hers not mine). To some this may seem boring or bizarre, to us it was a great night. Needless to say (but I will anyway), we had a fun during the New Orleans on Tap festivities.
After having many samples of a variety of beers, listening to some music, getting a free 24 oz of Ocktoberfest beer (a wink and flirt can get you so much), and laughing until it hurt it was time to retire. Marianne brought me home, through her own designated driver. We had a short stop for herbal chicken, biscuits, and fries, then it was bed and movies. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday in September. I look forward to next years New Orleans on Tap.
Until I ramble on again. . .
Monday, October 28, 2013
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Stop Bullying- The Ostrich Story
*Steps on Soap Box*
Today is National Stop Bullying Day or Anti-Bullying Day (http://www.stompoutbullying.org/) and I have been reading some of the accounts that people experienced as children. I was bullied at times. The worst was during my junior high years. I was spit on, threatened, and pushed around by another kid. It stopped when I went to high school away from him. Otherwise, I have a knack for anonymity- like Buster Bluth. However, this story is not about being bullied or the bully.
This story took place when I was in elementary school (mid to late eighties). There was a kid in my class that was brown (I honestly can't remember his ethnic background, but this fact is important to the story). We would hang out at recess and play or talk about things that interested us. We talked about video games, Star Wars, superheroes, and other vital important topics to kids our age. I remember he was funny and we had a good time together. He didn't play sports and I was mediocre at best, so it was more fun to discuss the the latest GI Joe episode.
Let's draw some connections now. I went to a private, predominately white school, the kid I was friends with was brown, and I'm talking about bullying. Yes, two plus two does equal mistreatment. I remember one of the "popular" kids coming around and making fun of my friend. I can't remember what exactly was said, probably something about my friend smelling bad (which he didn't). He began taunting my friend, which created a crowd to fuel the bully fire. My friend was being picked on because he wasn't white. It is about picking on the "other". That was obvious to me even then. I did something worse than joining in the bullying like the other kids- I hide from it like an Ostrich with its head in the sand. I took the coward's way. I ran away. More accurately, I slowly crept away when the attention was not focused on me. I blended into the crowd and headed to the bathroom to escape the situation.
I knew what they were doing was wrong, but instead of joining forces with my friend, I slowly backed away from a hostile situation. I didn't want to get in the crossfire, nor did I want to engage. Not only did I not help with the taunting, but I did not even notify the teachers of the situation. Maybe I couldn't have stopped it. Maybe I would have been bullied more. Yet, maybe he wouldn't have been bullied as much because I was taking on some of that energy from the bullies. Maybe with my voice added to his, we could have convinced the teachers to stop the bullying instead of telling my friend that he was a tattletale. By doing nothing, I was perpetuating the bullying, which continued for years.
My friendship ended soon after the bullying began because I did nothing. I honestly regret not doing anything. I do not know the outcomes of the young men that was bullied or did the bullying. I moved away a few years later and experienced my own intense bullying. Sometimes we need to add volume to the voice of those that are mistreated. Even if we did not engage in the bullying outright, we are part of the problem not the solution. Stand up for yourself and help others stand up for themselves. We don't always have to lead the fight or act like the White Knight, but we can lend our voice to counter the negative outburst of the ignorant. Don't act like the Metaphorical Ostrich and believe it will all go away.We are all "other" to another.
*Steps off Soap Box*
Until I ramble on again. . .
Today is National Stop Bullying Day or Anti-Bullying Day (http://www.stompoutbullying.org/) and I have been reading some of the accounts that people experienced as children. I was bullied at times. The worst was during my junior high years. I was spit on, threatened, and pushed around by another kid. It stopped when I went to high school away from him. Otherwise, I have a knack for anonymity- like Buster Bluth. However, this story is not about being bullied or the bully.
This story took place when I was in elementary school (mid to late eighties). There was a kid in my class that was brown (I honestly can't remember his ethnic background, but this fact is important to the story). We would hang out at recess and play or talk about things that interested us. We talked about video games, Star Wars, superheroes, and other vital important topics to kids our age. I remember he was funny and we had a good time together. He didn't play sports and I was mediocre at best, so it was more fun to discuss the the latest GI Joe episode.
Let's draw some connections now. I went to a private, predominately white school, the kid I was friends with was brown, and I'm talking about bullying. Yes, two plus two does equal mistreatment. I remember one of the "popular" kids coming around and making fun of my friend. I can't remember what exactly was said, probably something about my friend smelling bad (which he didn't). He began taunting my friend, which created a crowd to fuel the bully fire. My friend was being picked on because he wasn't white. It is about picking on the "other". That was obvious to me even then. I did something worse than joining in the bullying like the other kids- I hide from it like an Ostrich with its head in the sand. I took the coward's way. I ran away. More accurately, I slowly crept away when the attention was not focused on me. I blended into the crowd and headed to the bathroom to escape the situation.
I knew what they were doing was wrong, but instead of joining forces with my friend, I slowly backed away from a hostile situation. I didn't want to get in the crossfire, nor did I want to engage. Not only did I not help with the taunting, but I did not even notify the teachers of the situation. Maybe I couldn't have stopped it. Maybe I would have been bullied more. Yet, maybe he wouldn't have been bullied as much because I was taking on some of that energy from the bullies. Maybe with my voice added to his, we could have convinced the teachers to stop the bullying instead of telling my friend that he was a tattletale. By doing nothing, I was perpetuating the bullying, which continued for years.
My friendship ended soon after the bullying began because I did nothing. I honestly regret not doing anything. I do not know the outcomes of the young men that was bullied or did the bullying. I moved away a few years later and experienced my own intense bullying. Sometimes we need to add volume to the voice of those that are mistreated. Even if we did not engage in the bullying outright, we are part of the problem not the solution. Stand up for yourself and help others stand up for themselves. We don't always have to lead the fight or act like the White Knight, but we can lend our voice to counter the negative outburst of the ignorant. Don't act like the Metaphorical Ostrich and believe it will all go away.We are all "other" to another.
*Steps off Soap Box*
Until I ramble on again. . .
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Festivities: Origin Story
This is part 1 of this series.
I know I have been neglectful of this blog. Instead of indulging my inane need to vindicate myself, I'm going to jump right into it.
This story starts over two year ago. While visiting my parents, I went for a run in their neighborhood. It is quaint area with large pine trees (not as many as pre-Katrina) obscuring the houses, styles of houses that I do not care about, and tucked away from busy streets. On this particular run, I wanted to decided to extend my distance by running towards a dead end that would give me the there and back mileage I needed. As I ran closer to the end, I noticed two large dogs. These dogs did not have the look of "wild" dogs- no matted hair, looks of desperation. They seemed like two well kept dogs out on a stroll; buddies lounging around no cares in the world. Obviously, these were "good" dogs because their owners did not care to fence them in or provide a restraint on their daily dalliances. However, as I ran past them, I could feel the air change around me, and knew that my previous perception was misleading (stupid endorphin).
Sensing something amiss, I turned around and head backed towards the direction I had come from, but these two dogs blocked my path with malice on their faces. I stopped in my tracks and let out a loud, "Come on!" I felt like I was back in grade schools with two bullies, but these bullies had sharper teeth and quicker. An initial shout to shore up Alpha male status was met with sneers and growls. I even get emasculated by animals that enjoy sniffing each other privates as a form of flirting. Fearful of getting gnawed on by two Cujos, which was escalated by reading about a severe dog attack on a runner, I jumped into the nearby ditch, grabbed a large branch, and swung it at the dogs. This causes them to back up slightly and look for an opening to cut one of my hamstrings (this is what was going through my mind- don't judge). Using a tactic that I call brush-brush-scoot, I was able to get around the dogs and ran back to my parents house (I was like the Flash).
This encounter was a catalyst to me believing I needed a dog to run with me. In my mind the dog would deter potential threats, and push my to run often. I researched potential 'running' dogs, but saw how much they cost, and quickly decided to got the adoption route. I signed up for the SPCA newsletter, while I was rummaging through their website (http://www.la-spca.org/). Although I saw some dogs to potentially adopt, I thought better of the idea, and a can of mace is much cheaper.
After reading this, you may be wondering what this has to do with festivities? Things are tenuously connected, but connected nonetheless. I still get newsletter updates from the Louisiana SPCA (which are about once a month), and a few weeks back, I received one that was announcing "Jump the Line at New Orleans on Tap." This was a charity event for the SPCA that was taking place in City Park, where you could sample over 200 types of beer. I purchased tickets (needed for sampling beer) and a VIP pass immediately. Supporting a good cause and drinking beer- fantastic. You get to feel warm and smug on two levels.
Moral of the story: dogs wanting to kill you can lead you supporting displaced animals and beer.
There is more to this tale. Come back and find out how I take the long way round to get to the event.
Until I ramble on again. . .
I know I have been neglectful of this blog. Instead of indulging my inane need to vindicate myself, I'm going to jump right into it.
This story starts over two year ago. While visiting my parents, I went for a run in their neighborhood. It is quaint area with large pine trees (not as many as pre-Katrina) obscuring the houses, styles of houses that I do not care about, and tucked away from busy streets. On this particular run, I wanted to decided to extend my distance by running towards a dead end that would give me the there and back mileage I needed. As I ran closer to the end, I noticed two large dogs. These dogs did not have the look of "wild" dogs- no matted hair, looks of desperation. They seemed like two well kept dogs out on a stroll; buddies lounging around no cares in the world. Obviously, these were "good" dogs because their owners did not care to fence them in or provide a restraint on their daily dalliances. However, as I ran past them, I could feel the air change around me, and knew that my previous perception was misleading (stupid endorphin).
Sensing something amiss, I turned around and head backed towards the direction I had come from, but these two dogs blocked my path with malice on their faces. I stopped in my tracks and let out a loud, "Come on!" I felt like I was back in grade schools with two bullies, but these bullies had sharper teeth and quicker. An initial shout to shore up Alpha male status was met with sneers and growls. I even get emasculated by animals that enjoy sniffing each other privates as a form of flirting. Fearful of getting gnawed on by two Cujos, which was escalated by reading about a severe dog attack on a runner, I jumped into the nearby ditch, grabbed a large branch, and swung it at the dogs. This causes them to back up slightly and look for an opening to cut one of my hamstrings (this is what was going through my mind- don't judge). Using a tactic that I call brush-brush-scoot, I was able to get around the dogs and ran back to my parents house (I was like the Flash).
This encounter was a catalyst to me believing I needed a dog to run with me. In my mind the dog would deter potential threats, and push my to run often. I researched potential 'running' dogs, but saw how much they cost, and quickly decided to got the adoption route. I signed up for the SPCA newsletter, while I was rummaging through their website (http://www.la-spca.org/). Although I saw some dogs to potentially adopt, I thought better of the idea, and a can of mace is much cheaper.
After reading this, you may be wondering what this has to do with festivities? Things are tenuously connected, but connected nonetheless. I still get newsletter updates from the Louisiana SPCA (which are about once a month), and a few weeks back, I received one that was announcing "Jump the Line at New Orleans on Tap." This was a charity event for the SPCA that was taking place in City Park, where you could sample over 200 types of beer. I purchased tickets (needed for sampling beer) and a VIP pass immediately. Supporting a good cause and drinking beer- fantastic. You get to feel warm and smug on two levels.
Moral of the story: dogs wanting to kill you can lead you supporting displaced animals and beer.
There is more to this tale. Come back and find out how I take the long way round to get to the event.
Until I ramble on again. . .
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