I miss all of you . . .

Call It Stout, Though It Isn't

I'm glad such a venerable publication as the NYT shares my interest in both beer and assuring no misunderstood term remains so (misunderstood, that is). I'm also glad that the author has a "go-to midday brew."

And I'm most glad of all that I have only 26 days left in San Diego until I get to go home and mooch off my parents for the nearly two-month long Hanukah/Christmas/Birthday/New Year's season (because, let's be honest, now that we're on our own, we all know that paying rent really, really sucks the hairy root).

A Tribute to Dos Equis, the Most Inoffensive Beer

Dos Equis goes with everything. Dos Equis neither adds nor subtracts from any experience above and beyond its status as cold, wet, and laced with alcohol. It will quench your thirst. It will cool your brow. And it will get you drunk. Beyond this, it simply tastes like beer. Completely indifferent beer.

You may think I'm trying to bash Dos Equis, but this is far from the truth. Dos Equis should be your go-to beer for nearly every occasion. Here's why: if your goal is to get drunk, there are beers for that. They come in cans. We all know them. Every single one is at least mildly offensive to the taste buds in some way. You're not drinking a Key Ice with dinner, is what I'm saying. Only if your food is deep fried or slathered in BBQ sauce or both are these beers acceptable compliments to your meal.

At the same time, if you're trying to drink some fine-ass beer, there's a whole world of microbrews, and the Deschutes and New Belgiums of the world are forever coming out with new tasty treats. And old ones. I just picked up a Biere de Mars and I'm going to drink it in a sensory deprivation chamber because that shit tastes GOOD.

But both ends of the extreme are few and far between in our post-college lives. The endless days of Keystone Light are behind us (right?) and we're not so grown up we can both afford and are pretentious enough to drone on about microbrews all the time.

So, for the 90% of the time when you want a beer that doesn't complicate your life, try Dos Equis. Just drink that shit all the time. But not really all the time because then you'd be an alcoholic. But drink it a lot.

Dos Equis: It goes down your throat

Squick

UPDATE BELOW

So I take the bus to work every day, and I've come to recognize the four or five drivers who man the route during the week. There's the tiny Armenian lady who has some kind of rhythm-related mental disorder, because she both accelerates and brakes in these tiny, rhythmic tap-tap-taps. There's the overweight black guy who thrusts out his hand like he's warding off vampires if you attempt to board before someone gets off. And then there's the completely generic looking 75 year old man who calls out every stop in his best train conductor voice. It's this man that I now turn to, because today he did something that, for lack of a better phrase, gave me the screaming heebie-jeebies.

For some reason that I can't figure out most people interpret proximity and repetition as a license to talk to me. This guy has started making inane comments to me as I get on and off the bus every day. "Did you order this heat?" he'll say, waving his hand vaguely at the outside world as I swipe my bus pass. "Yes, and I got them to throw in a tornado and three lightning bolts. Where do you live again?" I fail to say as I mumble something incoherent and walk to my seat. "Hey, didn't see you last Thursday!" he'll remark. "Yes," I again fail to say, not shooting him an off-kilter grin, "I was busy burying hookers in shallow graves."

Anyway. Today, he apparently upgraded me in his mind from Acquaintance to Close Personal Friend, because today as I was getting off the bus, he said - and I quote - "One of these days, I'm going to give you a surprise."

This is one of the creepier things an old man can say to you, I would argue. I must have stood there without moving or saying anything for a good four seconds, because he then apparently felt the need to add, "A good one." After a few more seconds of frozen silence, I said, quote, "'kay," and then got the fuck out of there.

So, here I sit, half-thinking that this guy is going to show up at my apartment with a chainsaw and a Buffalo Bill suit. I mean, the bus stop is right across from where I live.

UPDATE:

I found out what the surprise was. In a twist worthy of an M. Night Shyamalan movie, it turned out that what he wanted to give me was not a drink from his roofie-laced water bottle, but a $15 gift card to a local smoothie cafe. Seriously. A guy whose primary interaction with me consisted of watching me scan my bus pass and making banal comments about the weather gave me a $15 gift card. Why, you ask? Well, fuck you for thinking there needed to be a reason. If you don't think that I'm the kind of smooth-talking, charming, engaging, instantly likable person that you immediately want to shower with gifts, then you're a bad friend and you can go hang yourself.

No but seriously, I'll tell you the actual reason.

After profusely thanking him because I am a human being and not a robot, I asked him, "Why are you giving this to me?" Here's what he told me: about a month before this, he'd stopped me one day and made me pour out my cup of ice. For the past few weeks I'd been bringing a cup of ice to the bus stop because summer afternoons in Austin never dip below 100 degrees. I'd been taking ice onto the bus for weeks, but one day the driver stopped me and told me to pour it out. The rules had changed. No liquids on the bus. I helpfully and not at all sarcastically pointed out that ice was not a liquid. He thought about it for a second, and, unable to come up with a counter-argument, said, "It's in a cup." Further arguments on my part proved useless, as I had to admit that, yes, the ice was in a cup.

A month later, he gives me a $15 gift card and tells me that he felt sorry about having to enforce what he saw as an arbitrary and stupid rule. Ah, sweet victory. Still, $15 seemed a little much for a trival inconvenience. Putting myself in the bus driver's shoes, I probably would have felt $5 bad, not $15 bad. So I thought about it. Maybe it wasn't just that he felt bad for me, maybe it was that he felt a little bit of guilt.

That's when I realized what I'd been doing for a month. Every day I would still bring out a cup of ice to the bus stop. When I'd see the bus coming, I'd stand up. What was it that made the driver feel guilty? Not the stupid rule. Not the fact that he inconvenienced me. No, it was the expression on my face as, every day for a month, the bus would pull up to the bus stop, I would stand up, turn to the left, hold the cup out from my body, look at the bus driver through the windshield, and slowly, ever-so-slowly, turn the cup upside down and pour out my ice all over the ground.

I suggest two very different books, Indy:

1. The Little Prince

2. The Autobiography of Malcom X

I am extremely jealous that you get to read/listen to books all day. I thought this year "off" would afford me such luxury. Instead, here's how my 45 hours/week can be summed up:

Just now, a 4 year old came into the teacher's room and asked me for some "Sciticky."

"Excuse me? One more time."

"Scitickity."

"Hmm. I don't know if I have any of that...Let's see...Pencil, marker, umm color paper...nope. No stickity."

"Aahhh teeacheeer! Stickiiittyyy!"

"Oooh, right. Of course, scotch tape!"

I will be home in 2 weeks. Anyone in Seattle area should find me so we can toss back a few and chat.

Eli Does the Dominican . . .

But not like you're thinking (that would require way more flexibility than I possess, and also a set of uneven bars, a tarantula, and a rusty, old broadsword). Check out the other blog I'll be keeping for the next week-and-a-half as I travel to the Dominican Republic with SDSU Sports MBA program, attempting to open the Najayo-region for micro-credit operations: Eli Does the Dominican.

I hope everyone is enjoying the summer!

Help me

Right now, there is one little thing that transmutes work into a tolerable experience from one that would result in a hastily planned and executed suicide, and that is an iPod. It's the nature of my work that you can listen to headphones for 8 hours straight. It's also the nature of my work that it's so simple you don't have to think about it, not really at least, so you can pay attention to what you're listening to.

Since even I get stir-crazy sitting in a chair listening to music for 8 hours straight, I've started listening to audiobooks. With 40 hours a week you can burn through some serious material.

But I'm running out of ideas. I've put a serious dent in my "always meant to read it" list, and all that's left are those books that, while they're classics, don't look like they'd divert me, which is what I'm looking for. Anna Karenina might be one of the best books ever, but a lot of what it's famous for is the style, not the story, or so I understand. I don't know, though. If anyone has actually read Anna Karenina and wants to put in a good word, I'll listen.

So, please help me - what are your favorite books? What books capture you? What books won't you hear a word against? What books did you borrow for a class and then buy a copy of later because it was so incredibly good? I honestly don't care about the era, style, content....just give me a good story, a well-written work of fiction. Airport-fare or literary genius, as long as it spoke to you. Best-selling author or virtual unknown. Sci-Fi or dreary, Grapes of Wrath realism.

So leave a comment, or send me an e-mail if you're embarrassed that your favorite book ever isn't considered a literary masterpiece. I've read more books than anyone I know, and there are decent percentage of them that are obscure as fuck.

Also don't worry if what immediately pops into your head is something that everyone has read. Basically, what I'm trying to get across is that the only thing I care about is if you personally thought it was a great book.

I don't know about you guys, but there are some books for me that I like so much that they become intensely personal. I almost don't want to talk about them because of the severity of feeling I have for them. Two of those books for me are The Sun Also Rises and Sometimes a Great Notion. I'd recommend them to anyone, unconditionally. If you have a book like that, by all means let me know. You don't even have to give a reason.

So, please help me make going to work not grounds for suicide. Thanks.

-Indy Z

A Familiar Location/Brew

While scanning the NYT on-line I stumbled across this article: "Frugal Portland" (fake Portland, not real Portland)

It refers to some familiar brews (and gives the Widmer hef a seriously backhanded compliment--although I'm not sure what cru means), a few vaguely familiar places, and really, really makes me miss the Northwest. . .

Oh, and speaking of missing the Northwest, I don't know if you're all on the Whitman jobs list-serv, but for those of you who aren't, let me share an opening which came in today . . .

WHITMAN COLLEGE ADMISSION OFFICER

The Office of Admission seeks a motivated, imaginative individual to join our eighteen-person admission team as an Admission Officer. This is a full-time position beginning July 1, 2009.

General responsibilities for the position include traveling to high schools and college fairs, interviewing candidates for admission, preparing correspondence, reviewing applications for admission, and contacting secondary school personnel and alumni admission volunteers. This Admission Officer position will work with the Dean of Admission & Financial Aid and the Director of Admission on various recruitment programs in the Office of Admission.

The successful candidate will enjoy travel, be a team player, have effective public speaking skills, possess strong writing skills, be able and willing to work long hours and weekends, speak about and demonstrate a commitment to the value of a liberal arts education, and be comfortable working with a variety of people. Computer proficiency is required. A sense of humor is appreciated.

Qualifications: A bachelor’s degree from a selective liberal arts college and a valid driver’s license.

Application: Submit a letter of application, official college transcript, resume, names and telephone numbers of three references, and a 250 word statement on the value of a liberal arts education to the Human Resources Office, Whitman College, Walla Walla, WA 99362. Review of applications will begin mid-May and the position is open until filled. Candidates selected for an interview are asked to prepare a 20 minute persuasive oral presentation on Whitman College or their undergraduate institution.

Mary Luckstead | Administrative Assistant | Human Resources | 509-527-5172

Margaret Robison Ely
Career Center Administrative Assistant
Whitman College, Reid Campus Center
345 Boyer Avenue
Walla Walla, WA 99362
elymr@whitman.edu
Office: 509-527-5183
Fax: 509-527-5934

Anyone up for a little reliving the past?