The Brain-Equation At Work; Or A Quickie Take On the Stuff That Makes the World Go Round

Another drive-by post because I am otherwise occupied. (*1.)

This is especially for the non-beer types --- because lotso you readers aren't into beer.

But because I'm generous -- it's a two-fer: It's for you beer types, too. Clever me.

So: In which I contemplate [briefly] passion, the creativity of daily life, and ...beer. (*2)

Chris Bowen is a beerish Facebook "friend." I've never met him. Don't know anything about him other than what's on his wall. (*3) (Viva Zuckerberg!)

Today Bowen posted a link to a short Youtube vid about him that Forbes mag shot a couple of years ago. (*4)

So I watched.

Great stuff! I enjoyed a wash of memory about what draws me me to beer folk: Passion. Passion and creativity. 

In the video, Bowen, a gifted homebrewer, expresses both.

He explains beer. And, hooray!, does so in plain language accessible to everyone, including those who don't speak beerish. And because he's a typical beer person (eg, passionate as all hell), the clip is compelling.

Jesus. Almost made me wanna start homebrewing!

Bonus? The vid also illustrates something that fascinated me when I was researching the beer book.

Brewers, by which I mean the people who concoct those vats of elixir, fall into two groups: They're either  science-y or chef-y. (*5)

As in: "Beer is fascinating science!" Or "Making beer is like cooking!"

Chris is a chef-type. Watch a similar video that featured an equally passionate, scienc-y beer person, and you'd get an equally engaging introduction from a different perspective.

Again, here's the link. If I weren't so tired, I'd go figure out how to embed the vid --- but surely you can just click the link, right?

Urgh! So much for my intention to be "quick" about it.

Oh -- Yes: feeling slightly, light-heartedly optimistic about The End.

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1. This ramble started out as a 20-second Facebook post --- and about 100 words into it I thought "Geez. This is what blogging is for: fun and relaxation. Time to break my rule" 

But this'll be quick because the brain is deep into constructing "the end" of the new book.

*2. (As many of you know, I don't drink much beer. Do I like and appreciate beer? YES. Am I a beer geek? No.) (Do I like beer geeks? Of course!)

And I'm not surprised beer's on my mind. My brain's in overdrive, finishing the book, but part of it is also contemplating the rigors of the creative process.

Which means, heh, the brain-equation behind this post is:

Working hard >> Creativity >> Joy of previous >> Beer people.

*3. More on Bowen: There's this website, and otherwise google "Chris Bowen beer".

*4. I feel obliged to link direct to the Forbes site, but add this: during the 20th century, Forbes dished up excellent business reportage. Have no idea what its quality is now, but it's long been one of this historian's pals. 

*5. There's also a third, more rare type: Beer is a great way to make money." NOTHING wrong with these folks. In many ways, they're the most interesting of the group. Believe me, they're doing as much if not more to bring the world good beer as, well, as the people who make the beer.

Yo, "The End"! You there??????

Or something like that. Because really, am I ever. gonna. finish. this. book?

Yes, I will. Although every time I get within spitting distance, calamity (in the form of my own stupidity) strikes and I take umpty-bazillion steps backward. 

I'm still revising the manuscript. It's all there. It's just that, well, some of the words are in the wrong order. You know?

Meantime, of course, the world rolls on, presenting me with one rant opportunity after another, and I'm resolved to ignore those opportunities. I was keeping a list of Very Important Matters On Which I Long To Rant, but the list got so long that it took over my office. 

So. The official update is: My editor doesn't even want the manuscript until March, and come hell, come high water, come Armageddon, I will get it to her then. 

Because I'm just that close and because surely there's a limit to how many times my stupidity can trip me. Right? Right????? 

See you soon!

I'm An Iowan --- And It's Time for Indecision '11

Ultra-quickie drive-by posting because I've got to get back to work. (I've got three weeks before my deadline to finish the manuscript of my new book.)

It's caucus time here in Iowa (What? You didn't know that?) and I'm faced with the weirdest set of options since I first caucused back in 1972. I can:

1. Stay home.

2. Go to the democratic caucus and stand for President Obama. You know, to affirm my support and all. (That kind of thing is important.)

3. Change my party affiliation and go to the Republican caucus and stand for Mitt Romney, on grounds that if President Obama loses the election, Romney is the only tolerable alternative.

4. Change my affliliation, go to the Republican caucus, and stand for Newt Gingrich, on grounds that if he gets the nomination, he'll lose and Obama will win.

Seriously --- I can't decide what to to. Option three is the least attractive: I'm not wild about the idea of going to a caucus to support a candidate. I don't mind going as a way of helping a loser win, if you know what I mean. But supporting Romney because of he might win... I don't know.

On the other hand, in Iowa's last gubenatorial race, I did do just that in our state primary. The incumbent, Democrat John Culver, was going to lose. I could have run and beat him. So we were going to end up with a Republican governor. Republican nutcase Vanderplaats stood a solid chance of getting the nomination, which scared the crap out of me.

So I changed my party affiliation (in Iowa, independents can't vote in primaries) and voted for Terry Branstad in the primary, reasoning that I'd never forgive myself if Whackadoodle Vanderplaats won.

So --- this is sort of the same thing. But not quite. And I have the feeling that, as in '08, I won't figure out what to do until the last minute. And it'll be emotional and I'll get all weepy again. Etc. 

Such is the state of politics here in Iowa, land of skuzzy towns and methheads. 

And yes, I'm really and truly and definitely almost finished with the manuscript. I think I'll make the January 15 deadline. See you then!

So Close. Sooooooooooooooo Close.

August? Did I say August? I meant late September. 

Okay, so yes, I did think I'd be finished now. The bad news is that I'm not. The GOOD news is that I'm so close I can touch, taste, and feel "the end." I have one chapter left to write, then the introduction and the conclusion. The chapter will take about a month. The intro and conclusion three or four days.

So --- really, it's almost there. I'm feeling a bit frantic about it: I want to get into the publisher's Fall 2012 catalog and in order to do that, I gotta finish this sucker NOW, or at least in the next five weeks. 

Which is why, aside from two major interruptions, I will be keeping my head down for the near future. The two interruptions are: I'm giving three talks in the New York City area the first week of September. The talks are in conjunction with the German-American Stteuben Parade and the festivities that surround that. The second interruption is my high school reunion in mid-September. A year ago, I rather stupidly offered to help organize the event, never dreaming that the reunion would coincide with my race to the finish line with this book. (Because, ya know, I figured I'd be FINISHED with the damn thing by now.)

Anyway, that's what's new here. Or, urm, not new: more delays. Longer hiatus for the blog. But fear not. I shall return. The world keeps getting goofier, and Republican politics weirder (I live in Iowa, remember? We're neck-deep in the 2012 prez election here), so I have LOTS to say once I can get back to blogging.

Until there: au revoir. See you soon. VERY soon.

The Hiatus Post, Redux

Okay, people, I'm off again --- this time until August. The plan, according, ahem, to the contract, is to finish the manuscript by June 1. That ain't gonna happen. Sigh. But I'm SO. CLOSE. So I will now finish by August first.  

In any case, as before, I'm not kidding myself that I can blog and finish on time. My brain simply won't stretch that far. Now if I could do without sleep, food, or exercise, hey! Piece of cake. I'd have way more hours in the day and I could blog and research and write, too.

But --- ain't gonna happen. So I shall return, with any luck manuscript in hand. (And again, I take my "coffee breaks" at Twitter and Facebook, both of which require considerably less brain effort, and time, than writing blog entries.)

Adieu!

But While I'm Here: On the Subject of Brewing, Selling or Not, Brewing History, Etc.

From my perspective, the InBev/Goose Island thing is a lovely coincidence: I just got home from the 2011 Craft Brewers Conference where I gave a short talk about the dangers of mindless expansion and why "mindful" growth is safer, even if that means no growth/expansion at all.

The example I used in my talk (well, one of the examples) was Leinenkugel: I argued that the Leinenkugel family had always focused its "growth" strategy not on their own bottom line, but on how growth (or not) would affect the community where the brewery was located (Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin). The family realized that if the company went under, everyone in town would be hurt by that outcome. So they always thought hard about making any kind of move toward expansion.

And when, in 1988, the family decided to sell the company to Miller Brewing, they did so not because they planned to make out like bandits, but because it was the only way to keep the company going and protect the town. (The deal they signed with Miller clearly guaranteed that Miller would leave the brewery up, running, intact, and in good health. Miller has honored that contract.)

My main point to my audience, which was composed of owners of small companies, was: Think before you leap. Because the history of American brewing is littered with the carcasses of brewers who opted for mindless expansion and failed because of that.

Anyway: on a cheerier note, my talk was brief because the main point of our conference session was to let Jack McAuliffe, pioneering microbrewer, speak. Renee DeLuca, who was also on the panel, and I asked Jack questions, and then we turned things over to the audience, many of whom were eager to tell Jack how they'd first heard about his brewery. One guy had two bottles of New Albion with him! Jack signed the labels.

Photo courtesy of Cathy McAuliffe-Dickerson

It was a deeply moving experience. Deeply moving. I meant what I said: I can now die happy because I finally got Jack in front of an audience of craft brewers so they could pay homage to him. It was all I could do to maintain my composure at the end, when the audience rose for a standing ovation.

Photo courtesy of Renee DeLuca

On a more personal note: I've talked with Jack many times by phone over the years but we'd never met in person. He's even funnier in person. The  man has an incredibly sharp wit (not surprising given that he's extraordinarily intelligent). The accident that nearly killed him two years ago has taken a toll: He speaks more slowly than pre-accident, and in a softer voice. He's also lost the use of his left arm (among his other injuries was a severed nerve in that arm, which means his brain no longer sends or receives signals that enable his muscles to move).

But he's in great spirits. Turns out he hates big crowds and noise as much as I do, so, like me, he mostly hid out. But when he was out and about, it was a joy to see people approach him. As when he and I signed books after the talk.

Photo courtesy of Renee DeLuca

And it was ALL worth it when he stepped on to the trade floor for the first time: the convention includes a trade show where beer-related vendors show their wares, and when Jack saw all that brewing equipment, his eyes grew three sizes and he couldn't escape from us dames (myself, Renee, and his sister Cathy) fast enough. (Jack is still an avid homebrewer and is now also distilling.)

So: a life goal achieved. Jack, my friend, here's to you.

Renee DeLuca, me, Cathy McAuliffe-Dickerson, Jack McAuliffe (Photo courtesy of Cathy McAuliffe-Dickerson)