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Beer
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November 17, 2010 |
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by Will Gottlieb
Coastal Journal staff
I have learned many things about and through the consumption of beer over the years. I offer them up here in all humility as being the next major impetus to advancing human evolution:
1. Beer does not make you smarter. I learned this from PO1 Marty, the guy who ran the line shack in my squadron at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island. Marty once told us that the best method of passing your ratings test was to go out the night before and tie one on, because a decently developed hangover would slow down your thinking and allow you to better process the questions on the test. Note that Marty retired as a Petty Officer 1st Class (PO1), and not a chief. But he may have been held back for other reasons, vis:
2. Beer does not make you a better driver. It's also interesting to note that PO1 Marty became PO2 Marty for a while, because he had been studying for a rating exam one night (see above), was called onto the base to do something or other for the squadron – and hit the guard house, pushing it about 20 feet down the road, with the Marine guard inside it. The Marine was only slightly injured, but Marty's service record was totaled. If the navy had not been desperate for top-level noncoms, he would probably have been discharged. Or hanged, or both.
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November 10, 2010 |
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by PO3 Will Gottlieb
Coastal Journal staff
It is time, said Odysseus, that I tell you of the disastrous voyage Zeus sent me. Crack open a Geary’s and I'll tell you all about it.
People join the military for a lot of reasons. Some people are just looking for work, others are genuinely interested in serving their country while having exciting adventures involving firearms and exotic locations (try to imagine) – and some are even padding their presidential portfolios. (Actually met such a man a few years back. He is not president yet, if you're curious.)
Me? I just needed to get out of school.
It was like this: I was a student at Thomas Jefferson College at Grand Valley State University in Michigan in the mid ‘70s. TJC was an alternative college, run by hippies for hippies. I can’t exactly tell you why I was there; I guess I just figured that maybe my own lack of focus would be complemented by the fuzziness of the people, policies and politics thereof.
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November 03, 2010 |
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by Will Gottlieb
Coastal Journal staff
You will be shocked to hear there’s a downside to drinking beer. The research has been done, and the results are in: It turns out that people who drink beer tend to misplace things.
For example, visitors to the Munich Oktoberfest lost all kinds of stuff. This could be attributable to the fact that they had collectively consumed seven million liters of beer – what would be called a “long weekend” at my house. And you do tend to lose things under such conditions, believe me. Der Spiegel Online reported the following items as having been reported lost: “The impressive list [includes]...a leather whip, a live rabbit, a tuba, a ship in a bottle, 1,450 items of clothing, 770 identity cards, 420 wallets, 366 keys, 330 bags, 320 pairs of glasses, 90 cameras and 90 items of jewelry and watches. A total of 37 children were also lost.”
Oh, yes, the children, don’t forget the children. Or the whip. That’ll come in handy, if we can ever find the kids, and/or the rabbit.
But the truth is I have absolutely no right to make fun of anyone for losing anything. I moved from Bath to Brunswick last weekend, and in the process seem to have lost everything I’ve ever owned. It’s all there, in a sense, in that amorphous stack of boxes in the living room, but is it?
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October 27, 2010 |
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by Will Gottlieb
Coastal Journal staff
One day soon the villagers will gather around my front door to wave torches and pitchforks, and it will be for something I’ve written here. I’m sure a lot of people think it’s a bad idea to encourage readers to drink beer – better beer, anyway – but this is what I really care about, the only thing that makes life bearable, sometimes. “Ich kann nicht anders,” said Lex Luthor. Or was it Luther Allison? “I can do no other.”
And somebody’s got to do it. Someone has to make a stand for cynicism, to rise up proudly declare their apathy – and it might as well be me. Let the politically pure write their stirring essays; let the healthy minded types say their bit; let the projectors and planners say grand things about civic discourse and the True Meaning of the Constitution. But you know and I know that, once the projectors are done conceiving and implementing their projects, once the political types have manipulated the masses into (temporarily) seeing things their way, the rest of us are going to need a beer. At least one. We’re going to need to disengage from all these true believers, these projectors, these party members – pop the top off a bottle of something cold and lovely, and allow the goodness therein to bring us back to our senses.
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October 20, 2010 |
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by Will Gottlieb
Coastal Journal staff
Sometimes I write this “medical beer” stuff and afterwards think, Wait a minute, what if someone reads this and doesn’t see the gag? What if somebody breaks a leg and, when the ambulance comes, says, “No thanks, just fetch me a six-pack, Gottlieb says it’s okay”?
The fact is that it could be okay, in some settings, for some conditions. For instance, if you find yourself living in the 19th century – and there are times when I feel like I’m there, especially during an election cycle – then beer is a great choice, and the right choice for a broad range of injuries and ailments. And if you’re living in the 19th century and you’re really screwed up, your doctor will probably prescribe porter.
Yes, porter, the wonder drug. A great example of this is found at the end of Patrick O’Brian’s Post Captain, where Jack Aubrey tells Lord Melville about an action in which he is injured and loses “all but three ounces” of his blood. The story runs thus:
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