Kindly Old Mr. Curtin just took hizself a quick trip to Sly Fox Phoenixville to grab him a case of Phoenix Pale Ale to pop and guzzle during this afternoon’s Phillies game on the tube. These cans are necessary because all of these big and bold Porters and Stouts that the peripatetic Mr. Pietrantonio left behind needs must be stored away in the back reaches of the Beer Closet until colder weather arrives, to be pulled out one by one to either sooth my battered soul or share with friends (assuming they’re nice to me, not a sure thing at all). Also stopped at The Farmer’s Daughter to grab me some fresh veggies and home-baked cakes (Pumpkin and Strawberry Nut). Hey, if I don’t take care of me, who will?

While I was at Sly Fox, I had my first pint of this year’s Blob Ale, which, unless I am dismisremembering (as our Beloved Preznint might say) is tres hoppier than last year’s. Mr. Ohst?

Speaking of our Beloved Preznint, I have been besieged with questions about what the Secret Bush Handshake (first mentioned here, third paragraph near the end) is all about. Basically, it requires the two participants to smirk at one another with a supercilious and thoroughly undeserved air of superiority radiating from their faces, then quickly stand back-to-back and swing around in a full 360-degree circle with arm extended and middle finger raised, to give the finger to the world, the law and pretty much everything and everybody except this guy and Big Oil. I suspect that Wanderin’ Joe’s old hippie soul dies a bit each time he does it, but maybe not.

I read this morning over in a post over in the sandbox that the annual Dogfish Head Intergalactic Bocce Tourney will be held the last weekend of September. You know, DFH may be the best craft brewery in the whole freakin’ world in terms of publicity management and getting the most they can out of every (usually inventive and clever) thing they do, but the Bocce event is one I think they missed the boat on. I was part of a press team (Don Russell, George Hummel, me and Sam Calagione as our captain–good luck with that latter, ’cause a captain, he needs an attention span, y’ know?) at the first tourney in 2005 and it was great fun. When it was all over, though, in a fit of exuberance, Sam assured every team which participated that it would be invited back every year. The result? As I said to somebody as soon as the words escaped his lips, that made it essentially a closed event, the same 24 or so players and friends returning again and again because it is really a good time. A couple of people mention it at BA around the time it happens and that’s it. There should be a lot of talk and teams scrambling to get there, maybe even challenge rounds by regions or districts or the DHF pubs and a few select bars, but no. Even opening it up to just all the BA members would make sense. Even the press team, which got it some publicity that first time (I wrote about it here, 25-26 September posts) would make some sense, bringing in new members to reach new audiences every year, but that doesn’t seem to be the case either. Everybody’s entitled to a missed opportunity now and then, but who’d have thought it would be these guys on something so obvious?

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