Reviews, Commentary and Opinions on Midwest Craft Beer and Microbreweries

April 27, 2011

Beer Diary:

Get Out Of The Way

Yes, you. Get the Hell out of the way.
by Eddie Glick

I like my beer like my women: pale, strong, full-bodied, and extremely bitter.
Contact Eddie»
The weather in the Midwest during April sucks ass. I’m not complaining, I’m just stating a fact. About the only thing worse than the weather in April is the incessant bellyaching from those around me who for some reason think April means sunny skies and 80° weather. Maybe these deluded folks have a vague memory of an April that wasn’t pissy rain, killer tornadoes, and wet-ass snow—sometimes on the same day—in their distant childhood, and somehow expect that a bearable spring month is actually the norm. For these misguided whiners, I’ve got some advice: move to Arkansas. At least until June.

But April does have some good things about it. The baseball season isn’t yet the bloated corpse it will become late July, there’s only three months more of hockey coverage to endure before the end of the season, and it kicks off the beer fest season. Although lately I’ve started to experience some slight beer fest fatigue—hey, I’m an old man—I still can enjoy a well-planned fest. The best things about brewfests is you can just hang out and try lots of different great beers, sometimes from brewers you usually don’t have access to.

Get your ass out of the way.
Before we go any further, let’s review the rules of etiquette when attending beer fests for the newbies and the veterans whose memories might have gotten a little cobwebby over the long winter. Basically, the rules of etiquette are exactly the same as those at any event or place of business where alcohol is served. You, being a responsible adult of the legal drinking age, should be well aware of these protocols and should not need any reminding of them. There is one extra, very simple practice to, um, practice while attending brewfests this summer, though, and that is this:

Get the fuck out of the way.

Once you waddle up to the booth or tent or tree or whatever the fuck the brewer or vendor is serving from and gotten your four ounces of delicious beer, get outta the goddamn way. Walk, crawl, or run back to where you were standing, so the line can move forward, and the rest of us can get our taste of sweet, sweet beer. It’s very simple. Repeat it like a mantra, slowly and with a chanting lilt:

Get your ass out of the way.

The only exception to this otherwise ironclad rule is if the person pouring the beer is the person who brewed the beer. Then you may ask reasonably informed questions of said brewer about the beer. Otherwise, transport your shit out of the vicinity. Is the pourer “cute” and you want to ask him or her out on a date? Sorry: Get the fuck out of the way. Know the pourer and wanna set up plans for later that night? Get the fuck out of the way. Just got your pour of Leinenkugel’s next to the Founders booth and you and your buddies are just hanging out until you suck down your Summer Shandy so you can get in line for another one? Let me say this for the cheap seats:


Have a great (and safe) beerfest season folks.

Drinkin’ And Thinkin’

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