An Asymmetric Game

Damnit, Crystal, I hope you’re happy, especially since there’s a really good chance that you’re the only one who reads this anymore. Not that I want you thinking I’m doing this because of your really annoying two comments in the last month or so–you don’t have that sort of power over me. (Well, maybe a little. But don’t get a big head about it.)

I haven’t written since May because, well, the more things change the more they stay the same. I think I’ll refer to this summer as "The Lost Summer" in homage to The Lost Weekend. See, at the end of April, a friend and I realized just how much alike we were in our metaphysical outlook in general, and our thoughts about school in specific. He, a former graduate student, and me, who was more or less a former grad student except in name. I don’t want to make it sound all bad, because it wasn’t, but the long and short of it is that we enabled each other, and there were more than a few nights where we opened and closed the bar. A few nights–a week. And then, when the money ran out, we simply bought cases of High Life ("The Champagne of Beers") and drank at his place. Impressively, we were able to make a "beer can pyramid" not only out of cans, but out of the cardboard cases.

So that was the summer: sloth and gluttony were paramount. (I nice change from pride and envy, the two that usually keep me company.) Sure, I did do some cool things (like travel 3 hours to see a Tom Waits concert) and meet some cool people and got my first phone number at the bar (though, unfortunately, nothing came of it). And now school’s starting again, and I’m so far behind that I need to be a hermit for two months or so. See, I thought I was going to officially quit but I didn’t, though I did quit in my mind. So more than a couple "I"s dot my transcript and those need to turn to "A"s or "B"s or they kick me out.

And I’ve realized a few things from all this. One, I have to get it done, because if I leave school, I want it to be on my own goddamn terms and not theirs (oh, that good ol’ pride is coming back…) Two, that, actually, this is a pretty good deal, especially since the economy is going to shit and my funding is guaranteed if I stay in good standing. I knew this already, of course, but I’m dense and often need reminding. Grad school is shit, sure, but all is shit, and this shit is shit that more people wish they had. Indeed, it was heading back home to Idaho–and I think I’ve made my feelings about that place well known–that convinced me of this. Yeah, the Ivory Tower is made of shit (bullshit, to be exact) but it ain’t exactly roses out there and (this is my point, finally!) the frame of reference is important. Third, that this, really, is so much easier than I am making it. I don’t want to produce shit, but everyone else does, and that’s okay, apparently. My standards are too high.

Which is not to imply that I like grad school any more. I don’t, and I don’t think I ever will. But I’m approaching it differently, and it might just be enough to make it survivable. It’s still early, though, so I wouldn’t put money on it either way.

This morning, I turned on the water for my shower and went to step in. There was a spider caught in the stream flowing from the back of the tub. It tried to get out, but kept slipping closer and closer to the drain. I knew it had no hope, but I wonder if it thought it did. It got to the drain, but the grate kept it from the nether tubes and, for a second, it looked peaceful. It couldn’t get out, but the flow of the water seemed to pass over it, leaving it unmoved, like in the eye of a hurricane. It tried to go left, but the stream got it again and, now, sent it down the drain.

I watched all this, and it took but a minute. I thought that maybe I should kill it, becuase suffering is bad no matter what it is. But I didn’t for purely selfish reasons (it might bite me, or I’d have to get something wet that I didn’t want to get wet). So, I just watched and thought that it was, perhaps, an appropriate metaphor. 

There’s only one place I drink the Dos Equis: the great local Mexican resturant. A friend absolutely loves this place and goes at least twice a week. It’s become a habit—or a tradition, if we’re being positive—that we get lunch there after we finish teaching on Friday. Three of us almost always show up and there are a few that occasionally come. Since I’m being a good vegetarian the place has lost some appeal since their vegetarian options leave a bit to be desired. I did, however, have a rice-bean-spinach burrito the size of a baby’s head. The problem is, while I do like beans (probably more than the next guy), refried beans don’t get me all in a tizzy.

What does get me in a tizzy, though, are 32 oz frosted mugs of XX for $3.25 with a lime wedge for garnish. Scrumptious.

I think it’s the amber version of XX. Like most things, I can’t be all that objective about it since I don’t think I’ve ever drank this beer outside of a Mexican restaurant. At very least, I can say it goes down real nice with a basket of complimentary tortilla chips and chunky salsa. Unfortunately, everyone likes the chunky salsa and the blended salsa doesn’t get touched. We’ve taken to asking for our own bowls of chunky salsa at the outset, and there has been far less unhappiness at the table.

So, Dos Equis. Good beer for Mexican food. Better than Corona.

Monday night I was out late attempting to cross #79 (local bar’s trivia competition) off my list. It’s five rounds of 10 general knowledge questions. Teams can be up to six players and it’s $2 per player. Winning team gets the entire pot. Monday night’s pot was $38.

I expected to be on a team of five, but three of my partners bailed. While I’m pretty sure we would have won with everyone, the two of us did pretty good — we took second. We had 35 right, the winning team had 36. They also had 5 players, so I don’t feel too bad about it.

What I do feel bad about: $1 PBR cans. So I had nine. Maybe 10. The trivia was upstairs while the bar was downstairs, so there was a point where I was triple-fisting PBR, which clearly makes me a bad-ass or something.

As such, while I still got up early yesterday, I did not do so at 5am. It was 6am, but I’m not going to count it, so today is the new official first day. Today’s also my longest day of the week, so we’ll see how that goes.

There was a time I drank a fair bit of PBR. That time was sophomore year.

It generally don’t choose PBR anymore for three reasons:

1) It’s the hipster drink of choice and I have a bunch of contempt for hipsters.
2) I like beer, so I usually choose something of higher quality.
3) Even in its price range, PBR isn’t my favorite.

But I had it the other night since the bar was offering $1 cans and it’s hard to beat that. So I had at least nine, maybe more.

What is there to say about PBR? It goes down like water because it’s a lot like water. Doesn’t have much flavor, though it does have a bite and an aftertaste that isn’t completely pleasant (this is true of all cheap beers, in my experience).

So here’s my basic thought on PBR, though it’s true of all cheap beer: Spend a little bit more and get something with taste, unless the deal is too good. The only real reason to drink beer like this is to get drunk and/or to be able to drink for 8 hours in a row. I try to avoid the first reason and the second is relatively rare. Unless I’m in [the town I grew up in].

[See here for complete list of beers drank for this series.] 

I cheated, a bit. In between when I started this list and when I finished it I already completed this item. And I knew it was going to happen—the absinthe had been purchased and the date was set, so this was a gimme. However, this had been on my list for a long time, so I don’t feel too bad.

It had been a vague goal, since tasting the Green Fairy would have required me to travel overseas. But! A few months ago, the US finally decided to allow absinthe again, so I can legally drink it at home. (See wikipedia for more information.)

So, a friend picked up the bottle at the local liquor store and we had it…and it is wonderful. We tried it in a variety of ways. First, the traditional with a dissolved sugar cube and ice-cold water. Second, mixed with equal parts whiskey and gin. Third, as an “absinthe-bomb” with Red Bull. Fourth, straight. The results: excellent, okay, good except the aftertaste, and okay.

I liked it enough that I looked into ordering some online to perhaps get better quality or at least have some variety. Based on this research, I believe there’s only one American company manufacturing absinthe and they sell it for $75 a bottle and sold out their first run. Ordering from Britain or Germany is possible, but very expensive due to the shipping…usually doubling the price of the bottle. I did, however, find one company in New York who will ship for free on orders over $50 (which is fine, since they have no absinthe under $50) but lacks selection.  Probably end up doing it, though, just to try a different brand.

So, for the time being, I have to stick with the stuff the local store stocks. It sells for $45, and I got two bottles yesterday. I tried it with not-ice-cold water last night and was not impressed. It has a strong anise flavor and is 110 proof (though some absinthe goes up to around 160 apparently). I don’t know if it’s the strength or something about the liquor itself, but three drinks (probably about 4.5 oz Worth) had me buzzing pretty good…it usually takes whiskey about 8 oz. to get me that good.

I imagine that absinthe will cut into my whiskey drinking, since it’s an equally good sipping beverage and has enough flavor and quality that I like it even if I don’t get drunk (though that is a benefit of it).

I recommend giving absinthe a try if you like anise flavor. Given the expense of the bottle, though, go in with someone else to at least defray the initial cost in case you don’t like it. That’s what we did—four of us split the first bottle.

Plus, you get some pretty awesome spoons. And, really, how cool is it to be able to tell people you’re an absinthe drinker?