Monday, March 23, 2009

No. 21 & 22

Beer: No. 21, Pabst Blue Ribbon, No. 22, Trader Joe's Bavarian Hefeweizen
Date: March 21th, 2009
Place: The House, Somerville, MA

The PBR I had as an official co-host of an unofficial corn dog party. The Bavarian I had as an apology to all those beer lovers who'd question how PBR can make it into my top ninety nine what the hell are you thinking man?.

It'd been almost two months since I'd had two beers in one day. Think about that. Fifty seven days passed, and I'd had only 10 beers - not more than one per sitting. Of course, I'd learned my lesson well back in January, when I thought beer grew on trees and I could just have a couple any time I had a good excuse and then ended up overdrafting (pun intended) from my beer balance.

To put my last two months into perspective and prove to myself that I'm really sacrificing and blah blah blah my friend Dave had 10 beers in six hours.

If I'd had ten beers, I'd be on the floor. Praying to sweet self control and Jesus and mumbling incoherently while people pass me and avoid making eye contact and wondering when the last time I bathed was. Not Kuhl. He's a real man. A man who can kill and easy dozen. Or, in the case of Saturday, on National Corndog Day, can slam 10 corndogs, 10 PBR, and 10 servings of 10 tater tots. It's only been done a handful of times over the last five years. And it was done in our fair Commonwealth on Saturday.

I'm approaching the quarter mark of beers, the quarter mark of months, the first 25% done of the hardest exercise in self control that I can imagine. Clearly I'm not in the armed forces and was born into a fairly entitled civilization.

The slowing down and considering and just thinking about my consumption has spilled over into a number of areas of my life. I'd already mentioned the water saving shower head we'd gotten. We now save a gallon of water a minute. And for the first time, I think I bartered for something.

I'd been coveting an old vintage looking bike since I'd seen my friend Jen's at the North Carolina Beach. While that bike is made in America GO 'MERICA! and that helps my current protectioist agenda that I've gotten into it doesn't help that any time we get something new it came from something else someplace else and one day will end up in another pile of else in someone's backyard spilling else into water systems and dumping (x-1) gallon a minute in a shower someplace provided someone bought a lower flow shower head that was made from else and if not than simply x number of gallons.

So I traded an old snowboard in my basement for an old bike that was made in the seventies and creaks and has one speed and is made of pure Detriot muscle (fine, English steel) and lets me slow down and just consider everything on my now 16% longer ride to work.

I didn't spend any money. Didn't go out of my way. Just got what I wanted by giving someone what they wanted. And what I wanted is hard to pedal on windy "spring" days like today.

Which is good. I can use the extra pedaling to burn off those corndogs.

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