Friday, April 20, 2007

Sea Shepherd!

I know it's been a long while since I posted. I suspect that a number of you who are checking out my blog (likely for the first time) are doing so because I e-mailed about my imminent departure for Melbourne, Australia. In about 24 hours, I'll be joining the crew of the Sea Shepherd Conversation Society vessel Robert Hunter, in Melbourne.

I'm sorry for the repeat/paste of the below, and hope to have more of substance posted soon.

For those of you who don't know about Sea Shepherd, it's a radical environmental group that does direct action in support of marine life and marine ecosystems, consistent with and in support of international law and conventions, especially the UN World Charter on Nature (1973.) I would really, really encourage you to check out www.seashepherd.org . Those of you who know me from Hampshire might recall that my Div III [senior thesis] was written about radical environmental groups, and that Sea Shepherd was one of the two groups I particularly focused on.

I'll be on the Robert Hunter, based in port in Melbourne, Australia, for two months. There is a real possibility and hope that I'll re-join the crew of Sea Shepherd for future high-seas, direct action campaigns, including the next Antarctic Whale Defense campaign.

While this genuinely isn't a fundraising message, if you have the means and interest, I'd strongly encourage you to Sea Shepherd to support their extraordinary work: even $5 helps, really.


Be well friends. For now, I am for the oceans.
d
zymurgy update!

homebrew:
PLANNING: a big move

DRINKING: imperial stout (50% Carafa II); tripel; cherry barleywine; wee heavy; gluten free cocoa beer

PRIMARY:

SECONDARY: Supertuscan; late harvest vidal; port;

BOTTLE CONDITIONING: orange blossom mead; 100% simcoe ryePA; double-double DIPA (& second runnings); Hugefoot barleywine [Bigfoot clone but with WLP007]; Midas Tickle (Hugefoot's second runnings, honey, grapes, & candi sugar); Petit Sirah/Zinfandel (Estate Ltd Ed 2005); Pliny The Red-Headed Stepchild

KEGGED: orange blossom mead; simcoe ryePA

SAVING/RETIRED: Gale Force DIPA; Ellen's IPA; winter wheat wine; orphan imperial stout; super strong bitter (~9.5%); vanilla stout; honey porter; saison; Wet Diaper (100% wet hopped IPA); etc.

Monday, December 25, 2006

zymurgy...

    primary
  • orange blossom mead
  • scotch ale (roughly a Traquair House Ale clone, but much stronger)


  • secondary
  • Trip Sixes (somewhere between a strong tripel, and a quad)
  • Pliny The Red Headed Stepchild (approx IBU 480)
  • petit sirah/zinfandel (Estate Ltd Ed 2005)
  • grapefruit wine


  • drinking
  • saison
  • orphan imperial stout (B2)
  • apple wine
  • special bitter (B4)
  • vanilla stout (BIU)
  • honey porter (BIU)
  • gluten free cocoa beer
  • Wet Diaper (100% wet hopped IPA)
  • orphan beer #2 (B3): unintentionally overhopped super strong bitter (~9.5%);


  • planning
  • rosemary imperial stout half the grain bill is Weyermann Carafa II)
  • chocolate brownie imperial stout
  • cherry barleywine
  • super secret experimental belgian


  • retired
  • Ellen's IPA
  • winter wheat wine
Audre Lorde on guilt...

"I have no creative use for guilt, yours or my own. Guilt is only another way of avoiding informed action, of buying time out of the pressing ned to make clear choices, out of the approaching storm that can feed the earth as well as bend the trees.
“The Uses of Anger: Women Responding to Racism”, p.130

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

162 posts

Glad that blogger counts my total posts to this blog: makes me feel a little less like a complete slacker. Here is # 163:

I'm sitting here going through a plastic crate of old crap from my mom's garage, mostly from high school. It's oneof those half entertaining, half who-the-hell-was-I-then kind of things. Highlights so far include a Pizza Hut Employee of the Month nametag, circa April 1992 or so, a bunch of old swim team ribbons from age groups 9-10 and 11-12 (I actually won a first in breaststroke once!) and some high school report cards.

I'm doing all this while watching Apocalypse Now Redux (cherry stuff!) and drinking decaf with orange liquer (generic Grand Marnier, since it's $20 at the state store compared to $40 for a fifth of the real Grand Marnier.)

Back to the mill now!

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Back from the depths of non-blogdom!

I've been busy traveling, and also had other things that had to get done, and partially, kind of forgot about the blog. Maybe I'll post more regularly, or maybe not. Anyway, today's post is, appropriately, about homebrew, namely my most recent brew, S3: Super Summer Saison.

I brewed it in mid to late July, tasted the first bottle today, and overall, I'm tentatively pleased with it. It came out reasonably true to BJCP style for Saison, see:

http://www.bjcp.org/2004_BJCP_Guidelines.pdf
16C: Saison

It came out to roughly 8.7%, a tiny bit high for style, but I think my gravity calculations might need adjusting, and it might actually be between 8%-8.5%. I used Wyeast 3725 (Biere de Garde), and adjuncts included a pound of dark belgian candi sugar, and a pound of raw turbinado sugar.

My tasting notes:

8/8/06, first taste, 12 oz bottle, cold (from friedge overnight). Opens with moderate carbonation hiss.

APPEARANCE: pours hazy medium orange with small head, dissipates fairly quickly. small layer of yeast sediment in bottom of bottle.

AROMA: tangy, slightly wild, hints of phenolics

TASTE: tangy, fruity, finishes slightly sweet and fruity, then in the aftertaste, notes of bread/biscuit? (not in a papery way, though)

MOUTH: tingly carbonation, finishes somewhat viscous

OVERALL: pretty decent for a farmhouse style saison, especially when I've never brewed one before (or really, anything like it.) definitely drinkable, though far from perfect.

secondary taste as it warms: good, more tangy and wild up front, more fruity esters and phenolics in back.

thoughts... next time I'd probably use a less powerful and wild yeast (it fermented from 1.070 to 1.003 in 68 hours!), and try to find ways to reduce the phenolic taste, since though it's appropriate for the style, isn't my favorite flavor.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Passings

I'm looking out my big front window, across the traffic driving too fast through one of the few north-south thoroughfares on the near west side of SLC, at the open green park across the way, which is punctuated by the harsh beige of the baseball diamond's infield.

The incident for my first posting in a long time was laughing out loud at a person in a bear suit riding a harley northbound up the street. Yes, a full-blown bear suit. Just as I was realizing that this was probably the Utah Jazz mascot, the Utah Jazz promotional van drove by behind the bear.

I spent the last few days working with the next door neighbor to transplant a chain link fence to fix the boundary between our houses. If I do say so myself, it looks pretty damn good for the work of a couple of amateurs with no specialized tools.

The skies are purple and grey and full of thunderstorm potential, it is 80 degrees, down from yesterday's low 90s.

Today I planted a strawberry plant, and I'm about to transplant a small shrub plant that a neighbor gave us.

Today I made hotel arrangements to go to Des Moines for a long time, good friend's wedding reception.

Today I changed out the tires on my bike, from 41/40 all purpose/all season to 26x1.25" touring slicks for low rolling resistance summer riding. I then cleaned and oiled the bike, which was desperately needed. I'm about to recalibrate my bike computer.

Today I sprinted to the post office to mail two packages, riding hard to get home before thunderstorms began.

Today I got an e-mail that an important friend's mother died after a long illness. It was gut wrenching.

Now the sun is coming out. Time to transplant plants.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Everything is better with beer...

Much stress, packing for a month or more away, trying to get taxes done before leaving, and doing several work things.

A Flying Dog Gonzo Imperial Porter, 9.5% ABV, makes it all better.

Taxes: jesuschrist I hate non-resident/part-year resident returns. It amazes me how much more straightforward the federal 1040 is than state returns are (including Utah, California, Colorado), and the NR/PY are just preposterous. I mean, really, really ridiculous: can't they avoid me doing yet another schedule when 99.9% of people will end up with the same number at the end as the beginning?

And today's funny note: the self-appointed tax crusaders in Utah are taxing us at 7%, while the notorious tax and spend liberals in California are taxing us at 6%... grh.

Perhaps more updates will come during the sidewaysdownunder adventure. Or, perhaps not!

Thursday, March 09, 2006

The comment I just sent in to NPR's Fresh Air
I just listened to Terry Gross introduce her guest for today's Fresh Air, James Burrows.

She very prominently stated, in both the teaser and the show's intro, that the U.S. Comedy Arts Festival in Aspen "IS SPONSORED BY HBO". Why the commerical endorsement on our belovedly non-commercial NPR?

Is HBO underwriting this episode of Fresh Air? If yes, it should be so stated. If not, they shouldn't be getting a free commercial.

-[dangr], Salt Lake City, Utah

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Bad day

Not every single thing that could be going wrong is, but it's close. First, I was lazy about the laundry, and threw some rags in with the clothes. Problem was, the rags had been used, in part, to clean painbrushes, and so they smell like solvent, so all the clothes now also smell like solvent. We'll see what the second round of laundry, with hot water, extra rinse, and a $750 super fancy pantsy washing machine does.

Out stupid car is in the shop, after we had to pay to have it towed there. (Turns out the shitty Hyundai 10 Year/100,000 Mile Protection Plan that the previous owners paid $1250 for only covers towing until 50,000 miles. Go figure.) I just got the call back from the dealer service department, and they think it was just flooded, since when he tried to start it and floored the gas to start it, it started right up. Ummmm, yeah. Whatever. Then he goes on to tell me that the mechanic recommends new plugs & wries, since the ones in there look like the originals (?!?) to the tune of $160, a new air filter for $37, the 60,000 mile service for $540, and here's the whopper: a new timing belt for $329! And while they're in there doing the new timing belt, might as well do all new drive belts for another $80. Fuck.

Then I opened up a beer to drink while I do the taxes, a Full Sail Old Boardhead Barleywine, and it's basically skunk. It's not bad, but it's not sweet at all, and tastes like a boring old APA or something.

Then my mp3 player wouldn't connect correctly to the computer. Fortunately, though, I can just take out the SD card and change around the songs on that.

Ugh. Maybe I should just go back to sleep.

Monday, March 06, 2006

a haiku, in honor of our impending downundersideways adventure:

wine we will drink much
sing dance scream, live life loudly
yes, much to be had

i know, it's slavishly observant to the 5-7-5 haiku hegemony. but so be it: WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

W5: Wacky Westside Winter Wheat Wine

Brewers: d & j
Style: Wheat Wine / Barleywine / Experimental
Type: Partial mash
Size: 5 gallons (4.135 gal. boil, topped up to 5 gal. for primary)
Color: ~7 SRM (projected)
Bitterness: 59 IBU (calculated w/ Rager method)
OG: 1.110 (actual)
FG: 1.024 (projected)
Projected alcohol: 11.47% ABV (8.89% ABW)

GRAIN:
7 lb. Maris Otter Pale ($1.50/lb)
7 lb. Schreier American White Wheat ($1.25/lb)
1 lb. Muntons Torrefied wheat ($1.50/lb)
Partial mash: 65% efficiency (estimated)
Post-sparge volume: 4.135 gallons

BOIL:
60 minutes
boil volume approx. 4.135 gallons
22 quart (5.5 gal) stockpot, 18/10 stainless steel

SUGARS:
6 lb. Wheat extract syrup (bulk: $17)

HOPS:
2 oz. Fuggles (4.6% AA, 60 min.) ($1.50/oz)
2 oz. Willamette (4.0% AA, 60 min.) ($1.25/oz)

WATER:
bottled spring water (SLC's water is ridiculously hard) (~$0.80/gal)

SANITIZING:
* B-T-F iodophor 12.5ppm for carboy, siphoning equipment, and lid; rinsed with water boiled for 30 minutes
* One Step powder (one tablespoon per gallon) for utensils, hydrometer, thermometer, miscellanous tools

COOLING:
in tub full of snow; approximately one hour 25 minutes to 80*F; after siphon temperature was 64*F at yeast pitch

YEAST:
Pitched at 64*F.
WLP007: White Labs 007 Dry English Ale liquid vial: chosen for high attenuation, high flocculance, high alcohol tolerance.
Yeast starter made 24 hours in advance with 4 cups spring water, 4 tablespoons Muntons light DME, boiled 30 minutes, cooled to 68*F, transferred to growler, liquid yeast vial (out of fridge for approx. two hours) pitched 5:30pm, three piece airlock with vodka.
Noticeable fermentation 6:55pm; at 7:30pm ferment bubbles 4/minute at approx. 65*F air temperature.
LAG PHASE approximately 24 hours.

PRIMARY FERMENTATION VESSEL:
Ale Pail bucket; three piece airlock w/ vodka
(Better Bottle being currently used for wine secondary)
Actively fermenting as I write this, 2/22/06 11:20am, approximately 36 bubbles per minute!
the Boss?

So, I'm sitting at my computer, listening to a CD set from the library. And see, because I'm a little unoriginal and lame, it's the Essential Bruce Sringsteen.

Okay, see, it's like this: my childhood was Springsteen's anthem rock period. I was born the year Born to Run was released. I was seven years old and far too musically immature to know or appreciate the magically poetic Nebraska. Born in the USA, perhaps the most misunderstood song of an era, came out when I was nine years old.

It wasn't until 1995, when a friend, mentor, and practically hero of mine (M.H.) gave me a mixed tape (remember those?) with the title track from 1995's masterwork The Ghost of Tom Joad. This song awoke in me an immense appreciation for Springsteen, and caused me to discover Nebraska, and go back to actually listen to and understand Born in the USA.

Other tracks on that tape, which oh! how I wish I could track it down, included Richard Thompson's extraoridnary (and underappreciated!) song Beeswing. I have a hard time explaining (and understanding) how much this tape changed the way I listened to music, and what music I listened to. Another CD sitting in the pile on the kitchen table is Richard Thompson's Action Packed: The Best of the Capitol Years.

But I digress: Springsteen. While he put out a fair amount of mediocre, commerically viable but artisically lacking music, I confess here that I like his music enough to have all three discs from Essential. If that's lame, well, that's just too bad.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Pictures from the long weekend

We didn't get a lot of different things done this weekend, but we did brew, clearly the most valuable use of our time. We made a winter wheat wine, cheekily named W5: Wacky Westside Winter Wheat Wine. Here are a few images from the day:

This is J looking at the yeast starter, trying to find active fermentation. It was there, albeit a bit slower than the night before.


This is the various pots of strike water and boiled, sanitary rinsing water.


Why buy ice to cool down the boil when you have a yard full of snow, and a bathtub just begging to hold it?


And completely unrelated: here are the cool icicles on our next door neighbor's house.

Monday, February 20, 2006

ummmm, i think they're even serious...

WHEAT OR POTATO WINE

BEETROOT WINE

Saturday, February 18, 2006

It's been a long time, been a long time now...

Since I posted, that is. I know, you missed me. Right? I've been to Georgia, and back, by car, through many national parks (pictures may follow.)

Working on the wine I'm making now, and we're both working on the house that we're getting really goddamn sick of.

Here is a photo of today's thing that the morons who previously owned out house did to it.



See, I knew we needed to replace the 220 volt receptacle to the stove, as it was loose. Well, it turns out it had been loose for a while, 'cause the fucking idiots who used to own the house had worked on it. As you can see in the image, the plug part of the receptacle joins a metal plate which holds it in place. (The metal plate in the middle of the plug thing should be snug up to the front of it.)

Well, it had come loose, and the fucking morons decided to take wood screws (see the wood screw sticking through the metal plate), and tried (unsuccessfully) to screw the metal plate back on to the plastic receptacle plug (do you see the word wood anywhere in that transaction?) Then they wrapped the screws in electrical tape (which you can see dangling off.)

How much does a new receptacle cost, you ask? About four bucks. Stupid fuckers.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

By popular demand

Several regular readers have asked for (demanded) pictures of the house. Here are some, from various stages of progress:

This is the front room, early on, cluttered and full of stuff:



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In the two bedrooms, previous bozos (owners) had put in asbestos popcorn-texture ceilings. We had them tested, and it was really a very small concentration of asbestos, and it was of a type considered the "better" of the two major types, crystotile, rather than amphibole, which is believed to stay in the lungs longer and therefore result in increased toxicity.

Nevertheless, we decided to drop false ceilings in both of the bedrooms, and seal it off. We went through all the analyses about sealing vs. remediation vs. removal, and decided for overall health concerns, both ours and any workers we'd have coming in to do actual removal, that sealing it off made the most sense.

To do it, we put up 2x4s across the ceiling, and then finished, primed 1/4" plywood:

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Before dropping the ceilings, we decided to provide a warning for future owners who might be tempted to tear out the ceilings and popcorn:

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Here is a big whole in the wall from crumbling plaster in the back bedroom that J re-plastered. The plaster-on-lath construction was in remarkably good shape in most of the rooms, but certain parts needed repair.

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Here is J repairing small holes in the front bedroom:

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Here is the rear bedroom after extensive painstaking scraping, multiple layers of wallpaper stripping, patching small holes and gouge marks, and cleaning the remaining crap off of the walls. Much of this work was done by A over a not-so-entertaining Thanksgiving visit.

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Here I am painting yellow onto the walls in the front bedroom. I like to sit down. I tire easily.

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Here are the rear bedroom walls after being primed with tinted primer (tinted a sort of bluish grey so that the main paint, called Dill Pickle, will go on easier. My conclusion after using four different kinds of primer in different areas is that all primer sucks. I mean, it helps the paint stick better, which is nice, but it sucks, and peels easily, and is generally just a pain in the ass to work with.

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Here are the beginnings of the abovementioned Dill Pickle, in the rear bedroom:

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The floors have endured about 93 years of abuse, and here is one example of what the looked like (this in the rear bedroom):

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Here is me laying the foam underlayment for the laminate flooring, which provides both a moisture barrier, and some cushioning under the flooring (which makes it really pleasant to walk on.)

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Here is the result of all the hard work of painting and laying underlayment:

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And here is the front bedroom, with a stack of flooring acclimating to be laid in the front room (a big task, as the front room is 15'x26'.)

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Here is a glass block wall that I built for the tub/shower. The bathroom is designed in a really peculiar way, with the sink next to the window (on the other side of the glass wall in this photo), then the tub/shower, then the toilet next to the door. It's kind of ridiculous to have it laid out like this, but moving all the plumbing would be a very expensive and in-depth operation which would require a plumber, so we're just making what we have look nicer.

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And perhaps most importantly, here is the fuel for all this hard work (this is an actual photograph of our fridge at the house, without any special arrangements made.)

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Monday, December 19, 2005

A story about December 19, 2004

I got a phone call a year ago today from my brother, S., which he has said since he doesn't remember. He called from my parents house and said "I've got some bad news." I had just talked to my mom that morning, about another brother being sick, so I thought I knew what it was. I said, "Yeah, I know, I talked to mom this morning." He replied, "Oh, no, some other bad news." I knew instantly what he was talking about.

My dad had been diagnosed with lung cancer eleven days prior. Bad cancer: staged at least at "IIIb", and according to the pulmonologist, very likely a stage "IV". Even now, talking about the details is difficult. Last night, I laid in bed with my wife until 1am, talking about him, looking up at the ceiling, crying, remembering. I chose to talk about the happy things, the funny memories. The details of the cancer and the death: some are still too raw.

I got to spend several weeks with him in the weeks just prior to his death: J and I went up for Thanksgiving, and it was clear that I should stick around. While numerous medical appointments stand out in my mind, the better memories are sitting in his office, talking, reminiscing, getting information, talking about what he wanted to happen when he died.

A bittersweet, but funny exclamation happened one day, in the midst of a conversation about distribution of ashes. I asked him if he wanted his ashes to be spread anywhere, and after something thinking and some discussion, we came up with two places he wanted: Monterey Bay, where he spent much of his adolescence, and Galway Bay, where he spent much of his imagination as an adult. In response to one or another of these questions about ashes, and who he wanted to be sure was invited to his wake, he exclaimed, "HEY! You're planning MY GODDAMN DEATH, aren't you!?!" We laughed, since, horrifically, that's exactly what we were doing.

Laughing was so important, so therapeutic, especially in those last weeks. We did a lot of it: sitting around in the family room in the house I grew up in along with my siblings, we'd start making a joke out of something or other relating to death, and dying. My dad loved, loved to laugh. My entire immediate family loves, loves to laugh. We still do it, about my dad, when the grief gets to be too much, or even when it doesn't. I was sitting around in that same room, playing poker with three of my brothers, a few months later. My father's ashes were sitting on the table we were using, and S., the same brother mentioned above, said, "Goddammit, c'mon, dad! Bet or call!"

I honestly don't know if all this laughter is to forestall the misery, the grief, of losing a father (a husband, a brother, a best friend) too early, too young. Or some other kind of coping mechanism. Or because he loved to laugh, and we all learned a lot of our laughing skills from him. I hope that a lot of it is the last.
Busy, busy

So, I just got some shit from a disgruntled regular reader, who shall remained unnamed, but who has previously been known in these pages as TGS. The really ironic thing about the aforementioned shit I was dished is that it pertained to my failing to regularly update this blog. This, from TGS, who has put her blog on hiatus! The hypocrite!

As I write this, I'm so damn tired I think I might fal asleep typing. Happily, leonard Cohen is crooning me awake. The snow is falling fairly heavily outside, really only the second real snow of the season.

We've been busting our little butts on the house, and it's starting to really come together. We have both bedrooms close to done: painted, laminate flooring laid, and ready to move stuff in to.

Now we only have a few things to do: the front room, the bathroom, the kitchen, the dishwasher installation, putting in a new toilet, fixing the leak from the current toilet that is old enough to have developed a stalactite in the basement, and on, and on. The joys of home ownership!

I'm just hoping that when I pull out the toilet that I don't find that the leak has damaged the subflooring. That would really, really suck.

The project I most look forward to, and which feels farthest away, is building a little wine cellar in the basement. I'm thinking I'll get to that in about 2026.

Here's a neat map from the BBC about the beautiful trend in South America towards leftist governments. There is hope!

Off to bed now, hoping that I don't fall asleep while brushing with the electric toothbrush.

p.s. Tomorrow will be one year since my father died, both too quickly, and too fast. It gets a bit easier as time passes, but not much.