The Sock Conundrum

"Those who never philosophized until they met with disappointments, have mostly become disappointed philosophers." Arthur Helps

Now, if you told me when I was a heady young child that I would one day look forward to receiving a pair of socks for the holidays, I would've slapped you square in the face. Metaphorically speaking of course, as I was the rare and undesirable combination of short, fat, weak and terribly shy. A few things have changed since then...I'm slightly less short and markedly less fat (but still joyously huggable for the holidays), and despite having suffered a brand of muscle atrophy normally reserved for invalids and shut-ins over the past 18 months due to my only-partially-by-choice sedentary lifestyle, I overcome the boundaries set for me by physical weakness with an unbridled sense of invincibility and confidence - often aided by heavy drinking of course. While most of these changes are expected growth patterns associated with "being an adult", I'm still saddened by the fact that I would receive a hosierious gift with open excitement. I mean, I really need some socks people.

The so-called Sock Conundrum - whether or not I'm to be happy with the receipt of a sealed off set of cotton tubes into which I might stick my tootsies when as a child I'd be appalled at such a notion - is translatable to any sort of gift of utility that in our younger days would be considered unacceptable. A tie, a sweater, a phone charger, 200-count ibuprofen packages, whatever... the point is that as soon as these things weren't just provided for me by my parents, I realized how much I really liked having them and how I needed to actively procure them for myself during the course of an otherwise busy day.

Brewmaster Marshall and I spent a good portion of yesterday evening discussing this and other Brewmaster-type problems (What type of beer should we make next? Why aren't more people out drinking on a Monday night? Why is that guy passed out in a tree planter? Why did we get into a tickle fight with that bouncer?) and I think we've both come to terms with being happy about getting socks. I don't get that sense of disappointment that would've hung over the evening like a bunch of ill-mannered frat boys around a game of naked Photo Hunt, in fact, I think I'm quite thankful to get anything for free, let alone some pretty righteous socks. Once I stopped worrying about what I'll be when I grow up and started worrying about having to actually grow up, present-disappointment became less of an issue.

Lucky for all you brew-thusiasts out there, you'll never have to be disappointed with your joyous receipts from the EVBC. B.M. and I recently picked up the next batch of grains and what not for Brewmaggedon 3, Son of Brewmaggedon, and a kick-ass Trapist style white ale is just a few delicious weeks away! We're already setting up shop for Poppin Bottles Deux (date forthcoming) and we can't wait to shower our fans with presents and of course, delicious tasty homebrew. Until then, kids, enjoy your holiday gifts and say thanks to everyone nice enough to get you something- even if it was just a pair of socks.

Brewmaggedon 2 arrives, locals feign interest

I address you tonight not as a Brewmaster of the EVBC, not as the leader of domestic brewing Operations, but as a citizen of humanity. We are faced with the very gravest of challenges. B.M. calls this day "Brewmageddon 2" - the end of all things. And yet, for the first time in the history of the planet, a brewery has the technology to prevent its own extinction. All of you praying with us need to know that everything that can be done to prevent this apocryphal disaster is being called into service. The human thirst for excellent beer, brewey knowledge; every step up the ladder of science; every adventurous reach into Brooklyn; all of our combined modern technologies and imaginations; even the Brew-wars that we've fought have provided us the tools to wage this terrible battle. Through all of the chaos that is our history; through all of the wrongs and the discord; through all of the pain and suffering; through all of our times, there is one thing that has nourished our souls, and elevated our brewery above its origins, and that is our liquid yeast. No, I'm just kidding, its courage. The dreams of an entire fanbase are focused tonight on those two brave souls, day drinking and watching various disaster themed movies while trying to specifically measure out the most exact portions of hops and malts, conducting the trickiest of calculations. And may we all, fans of the EVBC the world over, see these events through. God speed, and good luck to us.

Congress declares B-Day 2009 National Holiday, Brewmaster Eric immediately puts on gym shorts and opens beer

“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.” Richard Bach

EVBC faithful, yea, though we brew through the valley of the shadow of over-priming, I will fear no yeast, for my Tastemasters are with me. My secondary fermenter and fermtech autosiphon, they comfort you.

FINALLY! As foretold by the prophecies (read: previous blog posts), B-day is upon us. Now, per the countless throngs of brew-thirsty brew-menites who have asked if Brewmasters Marshall and Eric will be bringing their post-apocalyptic suds to various Halloween shindigs this upcoming weekend, the Brewmasters sadly must deny your prayers. Not for lack of care, friends, nay...but for lack of beer! Today darlings is indeed Brewmaggedon - the destruction of various malts, hops and potentially digital cameras should Brewmaster Eric get too close to the wort, but one must take a larger view. The Brewmaster knows that once the process is begun...iiiiiit'll actually be about six weeks before you loyal Tastemasters get any beer...but soon you will learn to stop worrying and love the brew!

Hear me out on this before you rush off to the package store, screaming "Betrayal! A pox on your mash tun!", remember that we're in this together my friends! Along the way you'll be rewarded for follow-ship with membership in the brew-minati, physical wealth (I'm quite close to having buttons all made up) and of course, first crack at the Stuy Town Brown Ale in just a few short weeks. Remember why this journey began...Brewmaggon is the casting off of the mass brew shackles!

We brew-thusiasts can no longer sit back and allow mass brew infiltration, mass brew indoctrination, mass brew subversion and the international mass brew conspiracy to sap and impurity all of our precious bodily fluids. Maybe it's the buckets and buckets of Stuytown-puddle-collected rain water talking here, but I think this first batch might be the best batch of beer ever. B.M. and I have planned to meet in a few short minutes to set up shop, get a delicious egg sandwich, then begin some good ol' fashioned morning drinking while getting the first run of EVBC's Stuy Town Brown Ale started! Rejoice!