First Draft Follies: The Founding Of The American Homebrewers Association, Part 1

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

Welcome to First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. This edition concerns the creation of the American Homebrewers Association. The AHA celebrated its thirtieth anniversary on December 7, 2008. The material is presented "as is" from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets -- [like this] -- for clarification. The excerpt is long, so I'm breaking it into manageable bits and posting those bits over the next few days.

The time is the 1970s.

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The cumulative weight of the sixties crashed into the seventies, churning life's normal order into disarray, tossing the pieces hither and yon. Many baby boomers felt as though their generation had wandered astray on their way home from Woodstock and were no longer sure where or what "home" was.

Young women burned their bras and questioned the wisdom of marriage and motherhood. Drug use rippled through the middle class. Divorce no longer spawned scandal. Paths that once promised utopia dwindled to deadends, like the scene at the intersection of Haight and Ashbury, where free food and free love had collided with pimping and panhandling. Most of the communes, those New Jerusalems of alternative America, collapsed, too, victims of their own idealism and the inherent messiness of human nature.

The [Vietnam] war, a sad swathe of lies and deceit, bungling and betrayal, wounded the nation's soul. A "generation gap" divided pro-war, "love-your-country" fathers and mothers against anti-war, "question authority" sons and daughters. Working class men--"hard hats," the press called them--jeered demonstrators and insisted that hippies and freaks either "love it or leave it."

In January 1973, the same month that American representatives signed an agreement that ended the fighting, a jury in Washington, D. C. convicted six men for a break-in at the Watergate Hotel. Americans spent the summer of '73 staring at TV screens as a parade of witnesses staged a gape-inducing display of disregard for the constitution and moral authority. The Watergate nightmare dragged on for another year, until President Nixon finally resigned in August, 1974, and, in a moment of museum-quality surrealism, raised both arms in a victory salute

. Many Americans spent that summer waiting in line for gasoline. The OPEC oil embargo coincided with and then fueled inflation that ran as high as ten percent.

Brewers gasped for air as the inflation-recession-stagflation garrote tightened its grip. In 1973, corn prices rose 40 percent and barley thirty. Can prices went up 35 percent. Federally imposed price ceilings exacerbated the misery and many brewers switched to cheaper extracts and syrups; anything to cut costs.

The chairman of Horlacher Brewing in Allentown, Pennsylvania, spent his time "fighting like hell" to keep his doors open. (*1) The price of his malt had gone up 120%. Coal nearly destroyed him: from $15.75 a ton to $48.45 in just a few months. The city raised the cost of water 72 percent.

The economy's stomach-turning gyrations eliminated thirty million jobs--even as that same number of baby boomers entered adulthood and the workforce. By 1975, seven percent of Americans were out of work, and as many as twenty to thirty percent in areas whose economies depended on "old" industry. The American standard of living, once the world's highest, fell. The economies of Germany and Japan, rebuilt since World War II, outpaced the United States. In 1960, imported radios, clothes, and other goods only made up about four percent of the American market. Ten years later, they captured thirty percent.

A blanket of cynicism and near-despair draped the national psyche. In 1965, 68 percent of Americans trusted the corporations that made up core industries like cars, steel, and tire manufacture, chemicals and appliances. In 1977, only 36 percent felt that way. In the mid-sixties, nearly three-quarters of the population approved of the conduct of giants like IBM, General Motors, Du Pont, Sears, and Exxon. In 1977, only half did. Nearly eighty percent of Americans trusted government in the late 1950s. By 1976, only one third did so.

Next: Finding escape by going "back to the land."

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SOURCES: *1:"Kleine Nachrichten," Modern Brewery Age, weekly edition, 26, no. 29 (July 21, 1975): 3.

First Draft Follies

I’m launching a new blog series today: First Draft Follies. (*1)

Here’s the deal: Writers write more words than they publish. A published book is the result of writing, re-writing, editing, paring, agonizing, and head-bashing. For example, the first draft of the Ambitious Brew manuscript was 175,000 words long. The final book, however, came in at about 115,000.

Put another way, I wrote thousands of words that I never "used." Why? Many reasons, but the main one is this: When writers write, they’re constructing a "narrative arc," the "storyline," if you will, of the book. But not everything they "know" about their subject is necessary for or even relevant to, the final narrative arc. As Hemingway said while writing Death In The Afternoon (and I'm paraphrasing his comment): writers read fifty books (or documents or whatever) just to write one paragraph.

Also -- and this may be my own authorial idiosyncrasy (*2) -- one way I discover what I know and how to use it in my narrative arc is by writing it all out. I construct (write) a large, overarching structure before I figure out what is my smaller, narrower, narrative arc.

All that writing and decision-making produces three consequences.

First, I write many words that never make it into print. Second, I make choices about which of those words do make it into print. Third, lots of juicy material lands on the equivalent of my cutting room floor.

I’ve decided to liberate some of those "wasted" words and give them a home here at the blog. The wise among you are now thinking: "Hmmm, if this stuff wasn't good enough for the final version what the hell makes you think any of us want to read it?"

Great question. And the answer is: you may not want to waste your time. This is clunky, first-draft prose, and I’m putting in the blog as is, with no re-writes, re-arrangements, or any other kind of polishing.

On the other hand, the content of these drafts contains so-called "primary evidence" that otherwise won’t make the light of day because I don't use that material in the published work. (I've blogged about primary sources and the historian's work. Find those entries under "A Historian's Work" in the "categories" box in the left-hand sidebar.)

But this is also a useful exercise for me, a professional historian and writer. Not, I hasten to add, an exercise in vanity; I have no illusions about my talent as a writer. Rather, picking out these bits of excised text allows me to think about how I write, and why I make the choices I make.

Having said all of that, I hope that you, the reader, enjoy wandering through these First Draft Follies.

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*1: Links to my other blog series are in the categories on the left-hand sidebar.

*2: Damn! I’ve always wanted to use that phrase, and I finally found a use for it.

30 Years Of The AHA (Yep. You Gotta Keep Reading to Learn What And Why)

Nearly lost amidst repeal madness is another (upcoming) anniversary: On December 7, 1978, Charlie Papazian and Charlie Matzen launched the American Homebrewers Association. I wrote about that event and the organization in my book -- and as the anniversary approaches, I remember this:

Interviewing both of the Charlies about that day in December. They both told me (independently) about sitting on the floor of a friend's apartment, madly cutting and pasting, creating the first issue of Zymurgy. This was back when people still used mimeograph machines (most of you probably don't even know what those where) and real paper and scissors and bottles of glue.

They acted out of sheer passion, the kind that flows when you're young and you believe anything's possible. I think of it as the stuff of which history -- large or small -- is made.

So to the Charlies I say: Thanks for that day in December. And to Charlie Papazian I say: Salud! You've made our lives better, one beer at a time.

NOTE: I have tons of deleted prose about this event, material that never made it into the book. Starting Sunday, I'll be posting it in a series devoted to that moment in the history of American beer. (Gulp. Did I just promise a series of blog entries?? Oy.)

Repeal 'Round The Internet -- Updated

On the subject of repeal, there's much to enjoy and ponder out there today -- emphasis on the "much" part.

Among others: There's a fascinating op-ed piece in today's Wall Street Journal from Ethan Nadelmann, who calls for an end to the mostly lunatic war on drugs. I'm a 30-year advocate of legalizing "drugs." If nothing else, their purveyors ought to pay tax on their profits. The fact that the WSJ, about as mainstream as it gets, published Nadelmann's piece, gives me hope.

Jacob Grier has an essay-worth-reading at American Spectator. (He spent part of the day tending bar at a forum on repeal hosted by the Cato Institute.)

[Added Sunday, December 7]: Also worth reading: the essay by Radley Balko at Reason Online

. My pal Jay Brooks, a long-time, fearless,and tireless advocate of rational drinking, posted a rumination on alcohol and the meaning of repeal.

Also worth noting: Earlier today, reader Joe Figueiredo of Harrisburgh, Pennsylvania, sent me a message that's worth quoting in full:

I enjoyed reading your article about the Constitution and Prohibition. I read through the Constitution on a regular basis. I’m not so sure that there is the same support for the Constitution now as it was then. That’s one reason I became a member of the Constitution Party. Do they stand much of a chance in elections? Not much. However, there’s always hope and perhaps if politicians continue to violate it long enough, the people will revolt. Figuratively of course. People told me I’d be wasting my vote. But, the Constitution Party represents my values, so my vote isn’t wasted.

I have to admit: I didn't know there was a Constitution Party. You can learn more about it here. Anyway, this anniversary of repeal is a perfect example of what I love about life in these United States: the extraordinary diversity of opinions and our opportunities to express them.

Enjoy! (Tip o' the mug to Joe for allowing me to quote his message and for the info about the Constitution Party.)