Returning and Redirecting, again

Thanks for the prodding. I've finally got my new blog close enough for public consumption, so if you don't mind changing your links yet again, meet me over

here.

OGAle?

I've been looking for alternate employment, with varying degrees of intensity, for a year now. Up to this point, I haven't even been able to land an interview with anyone! It's quite possible that I'm barking up the wrong trees, and that I am a hard-headed baffoon that needs to greatly expand my horizontal options. It's also quite likely that God's providential Hand has not desired to guide me onward, at least not just yet.

On another sphere of cerebellum, I have witnessed a small handful of youngsters (late 20s) feeling quite burdened by a lack of once-and-for-all peace as it relates to either ending or committing to a serious relationship. I have offerred counsel to these friends, of course, in hopes of getting their poor arses off the proverbial fence, but over time it seems that the fencetop has a tractor beaming energy which eventually pulls said arses back atop the the accustomed perch. Why I am not surprised?

Because I've got my own saddle sores. I like having the idea that someday I will begin a miniscule brewing business, but I don't want to take the necessary risks to make it a reality. I swoon over the romantic ideal of creating something beautiful and life-affirming with my own hands and heart and brain, something that I link so concretely with my own path along Christ's Way; and yet I get frozen feet when it comes to putting a real business plan together, talking with other young entrepreneurs, doing cost analyses, calculating loans, etc. Would this ale-making enterprise be a great source of joy or a black hole of woes? What dualistic folly we've created. Like love and soul mates, there is no such thing as one without the other...

Oktoberfest Review

In Munich, Oktoberfest 2006 is already over -- being celebrated during the 16 days leading up to the first Sunday in October. But us 'mericans tend to postpone such festivities until later in the month. As the "bier specialist," please allow me to give a quick review of the Oktoberfest lagers that I have sampled this year:

The American versions I have tried, Sam Adams and Saint Arnold's, are far sweeter than the authentic German versions. I find the U.S.-types cloying and far too reminiscent of caramel corn. The exception is The Kaiser, which is an "imperial" version made by Avery in Colorado, intensifying the malt effect with a whallopping 9.3% alcohol that is well-balanced with just enough hops to keep some needed structure.

As for the Germanic biers, Texas carries 4 labels that have tents at the Munich event: Spaten, Paulaner, Hacker-Pschorr, and Hofbrau. Spaten is the darkest and sweetest, Hofbrau is the lightest, and Paulaner and Hacker-Pschorr are the most interesting. The last two may, in fact, be the same beer, as they are now brewed in the same brewery. In our store, the Hacker-Pschorr is showing cleaner flavors, as it has the most recent born-on date. The real winner, though, is Ayinger. Not old enough to have a reserved place at the festival, this brewery concentrates on making world-class beauties. Their Oktoberfest is remarkably nuanced, offering the pallette several distinct aromas and flavors from a handful of varying specialty malts. It finishes dry and clean, leaving you curious and aptly motivated for your next sip (gulp).

So, while you're enjoying the falling leaves and crisper air, and before you get haunted by the retail assault of everything-Halloween (too late), take a moment to drink in some malty German goodness and toast the God of the harvest. Prost!

ACL, Final Evening

Feeling slightly more fatigued, I again hit the festival in the late afternoon after a day of physical work at the ol' Central Market. Sans Jolie, me and Chris and Alyssa headed for the finale:

• The Flaming Lips have been around, apparently, but this was my first time to observe their scene. For pure visual stimulation, few bands could compete -- there were live dancing Santas and Roswell Aliens, inflated versions of the same, multi-colored plastique adornments, and the lead singer arriving inside a large transparent beach ball. The music was, um, okay too, I guess.
• Went back for another fish taco and hooked it over to get ready for Muse. While there, we watched the last 4ish Ben Harper songs, and lamented that he was far better than the Lips. He finished with an energetic version of "Get Up, Stand Up" with Damien Marley in tow.
• Muse. Where shall I begin? If one was to take all the elements of 80s music (mainly metal, European pop, and even a little Prince / Madonna) and throw them into the proverbial melting pot, then time warp into the present whilst completely avoiding the entire decade of the 90s (especially grunge, alt-country, indie, etc.) you'd get something quite Muse-like. Loud digitally processed neo-metal anthems, one after the other, that sound golden and flawless. If I hadn't grown up in the 80s, I would have been as enraptured as the rest of the 25-and-under crowd! A-muse-ing, for sure.
  
• Tom Petty looked pretty happy from the half-a-mile-away-from-the-stage vantage point. The rains came down pretty hard after the cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well." This was our cue. Good night, ACL. Thanks for the fun musical samplings. And especially for bringing Van Morrison unto my doors.
  

ACL, Night Two

I had to work Saturday, but I got off in time for Jolie, Alyssa, Chris and myself to enjoy plenty:

• The Raconteurs were the highlight of the weekend for me. This is partly because of my familiarity with their debut album and partly because Connor and I "jam" to their songs nearly every day. Mostly, though, I find great pleasure in the way they take obvious rip offs of all things 70s and manage to meld them into very listenable and current pop-rock. Notable mockeries included Rush, Black Sabbath, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and even Sonny and Cher's rendition of "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)"; and especially the gritty organ work of Deep Purple. The surprise discovery that Jack White is an incredibly charismatic and energetic performer, his acid balanced beautifully with the baseness of his vocal and 6-stringed counterpart Brendan Benson, certainly didn't hurt either.
• Heard aproximately two songs from Iron and Wine backstage at the Heineken VIP area. Like the beard, love the music -- just wasn't in the mood for chilled lullabies at the time...
• Felt quite conflicted about my opinion of Explosions in the Sky. If I had been drawn in, I'm sure I would have felt differently. They made interesting background music for our fish tacos at any rate.
• Watched the collection of 73-year-old wrinkles known as Willie Nelson from an acre away. Similarly to Van Morrison, I would have like to have heard a more dynamic backup band. Still, it's pretty cool to see hoards of youngsters singing along and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Always On My Mind remains a beautiful ghost of a song; and his last two ditties about being old and being an outlaw were a hoot. No surprise he got caught with mushrooms and reefer in Lousiana 2 days later.
  

ACL Repor(t), Night One

In my college days I had a weekly routine of going down to the Sound Warehouse and spending about an hour perusing the aisles and listening to the newest releases at the headphone station. I rather enjoyed feeling like I was "in the know" about the latest bands and music trends, and I got extra thrills from being the first to introduce my friends to a great new album, etc. The energy do keep this up waned years ago, and I am all the more aware of my musical ignorance now that I'm living in Austin -- no worse, living with 4 zealous local musicians in Austin!

For all of Austin's City Limit-ations, I must admit that it affords geezers like myself the opportunity for a brief Cliff's Notes cram session of the latest and greatest musical endeavors. Here are some bulletpoints from my Cliff's Notes (talk about a cheat sheet):

• Okkervil River, an emerging Austin band, presented the most provocative set of the weekend. Their blend of wordsy folk and Alarm-esque emotional outbursts (even Roger Waters-like at times) set a high standard -- maybe too high -- for the following three nights.
• Gomez sounded pretty good from backstage. A bit predictable, but having the right sound for festival fun.
• Thievery Corporation made the people dance with a stage full of rhythmic energy.
• Despite being disappointed that Van Morrison had an elderly "adult contemporary" band (rather than a hoppin' soul band) as accompaniment, and the utter lackluster quality of the first few songs, I had all kinds of happy vibes watching the legend warm up and let his soul come forth from his powerful pipes. His voice is still most assuredly a remarkable force for good, and his cool, understated presence commands devotion, even while he is hidden beneath a rimmed hat and shades. For over an hour, my mind reverberated on one theme: this music is pure. Van is indeed the Man.
  

G-L-O-R-I-A

Tonight will be a musical milestone for me. Since high school Van Morrison has been one of my monolithic favorites, and I made a vow of sorts to see him if he ever got within striking distance. For 17 years, the striking distance never came. VM has a way of only playing about 5 gigs in the U.S. every five years, and they are always northerly and westerly of my global positioning. Early this past year, however, Van the Man dipped down into Grand Prarie, Texas in the midst of his little tour outing. I tried, but I just couldn't find a way to make it happen, driving all the way up there on a Monday night by myself. I felt like I had let myself down.

Enter redemption in the form of the Austin City Limits Festival.

Van Morrison will take the stage tonight a mere three miles from my house! [That's striking distance even by Hezbellah stadards.] Jolie bought me a single one-day pass for my birthday a few weeks ago, willingly taking on the kiddos so I could make my pilgrimage. And now her charity is being rewarded, because I recieved two 3-day VIP passes this week from Heineken as a thank you for my diligence as the beer specialist at Central Market! My Mom and Dad will be here within the hour to take care of C 'n C for us today and tomorrow night. Bonus: our Abbey-mate Evan will be sitting in with Okervill River at 5:00 this evening!

P.S. I know Van is old and fat, but this is the equivalent of seeing the Irish Johnny Cash near the end of his prolific career.