Amazing things seem to happen in threes -- that is if you take the time to find amazing things in the ordinary and count them, or if you tend to label ordinary things as amazing in triplicate.
I had a dream that I had a navy blue pair of shorts as a staple in my wardrobe. I woke up disappointed with the reality of the situation and thirsty for a new pair of shorts. Fate happened to bring me to my favorite department store, Sears, that day. And there they were -- the shorts of my dreams, literally. And on clearance. Jesus sold me the shorts of my dreams. No, really -- it was the guy’s name at the cash register. I said “Thank you, Jesus.” Take that atheists.
Pretty amazing as far as shopping goes -- “Sears: where dreams come true.”
I am willing to sell you the above true story, as well as story board, and star in the commercial that tells said story for a mere $950 cash or your finest French Door refrigerator.
Beer on my shirt
On the same day, at Sears, I bought a hacksaw -- I had some metal to saw through. Has anyone used one of these things before? Absolutely amazing! Using only the power produced by moving my arm (and my arms are not known for their power, more for their looks and sense of humor) a hacksaw allows me to cut through metal -- this is practically super-human (someone call the producers of the show Heroes, I have a fresh idea).
And it was really quite effortless, both the hacksaw-ing and the breaking of my hacksaw cherry -- it was my first time. There wasn’t even any blood. Too far, I know, but usually when I use a tool, there is blood involved. This includes brooms, tape measures, and plastic rakes -- all vampires hiding out in my shed until the sun goes down, thirsty for my blood, living off my awkward injuries.
Tools are like hot women -- when I talk to them they rarely talk back, I tend to use them when I’m drinking, they don’t appreciate my soft hands, and they are shiny.
I bought the hacksaw to cut this piece of metal that will be replacing an old piece of metal in my doorway. Seems simple enough -- set up a little work area outside and cut through some metal. However, during the summer months, I am the primary care giver of a two-year-old during the day.
Watching the child tends to complicate matters involving tools. I’m no genius (or am I?), but I do know that hacksaws and the terrible two's don’t mix, not even a little. So once Child is napping in her crib, I flip on the video monitor, take a few quick measurements and head out to the back porch to vigorously saw metal.
Then I stop and look at the monitor.
Then I vigorously saw, saw, saw.
Then I look at the monitor.
Then I vigorously saw some more and I’m pretty much done with the sawing of the metal for the doorway.
I moved on to sawing any metal that was being a nuisance. This led me to my trash can -- you see, the wheels had broken off and all that was left at the bottom of it was this metal axle that, for the life of me, I could just not get the metal caps off of the ends to remove it. I thought about throwing it away but I couldn’t really figure out the ridiculous paradox known as “throwing away a trash can.” Do you put a sign on it that says “trash“? That kind seems like a smack in the face of the garbage man’s intelligence. Do you put a sign on it that says “this trash can is trash”? Something about that seems overstated. Can I still put trash in it or does it need to be empty to get the point across? Will my garbage man hate me and think I’m a liar when he opens it and there’s nothing in there, only to see the bags of trash behind it instead of in it? He’ll think I’m a fool.
The hacksaw solves all these problems just with about 600 back and forth movements of my wiggly arm -- just cut off the old axle, get a new rod and some wheels and we just circumnavigated around the whole “trash can as trash” paradox. The hacksaw does more than cut metal -- it is a problem solver for crazy people.
You know what else is a problem solver for crazy people? Beer. Hacksaws, Beers, and Sears, bitches.
You know what I plan on popping today to keep them crazies away? As soon as Wife gets home, I'll be on my back patio sipping some Sorachi Ace by Brooklyn Brewery, admiring my hacksaw handy work.
Sorachi Ace is a great saison/farmhouse ale brewed with hops of the same name, giving it its lemony nose and taste, and Belgian and Champagne yeasts. The result is a beer that is perfect for sunny days – dry, bubbly, fragrant, and clean.
The beer is a pale yellow with tiny bubbles, producing a very manageable one to two inches of light, white foam. The smell is lemon zest and crisp Belgian yeast followed by a taste that is refreshing and bright – like lemongrass when used properly in a dish. The Belgian yeast stands out as the initial flavor fades and overall the beer finishes with a great mix of dry and sweet, pepper and fruit – maybe orange, maybe peach, maybe banana candy, maybe gummi bears, the clear ones.
The mouthfeel of it keeps it all moving - not as light as you might expect and crisp with champagne-esque carbonation that leads to, or at least what I envision as, a small cloud of steam, off of a fresh loaf of lemon bread, floating in the back of my mouth as the beer sits and mellows. So what I'm saying is the beer turns the back of your mouth into the kitchen windowsill of your grandmother's house during an extreme low pressure system, after she's slaved away all day on her award winning lemon bread. If that isn't a perfect beer for sunny days, then I don't want to be correct about anything, ever. Even hacksaws, beers or Sears.
Sorachi Ace, Brooklyn Brewery
appearance = 4.25/5
smell = 4/5
taste = 4.25/5
mouthfeel = 4.5/5
overall = 4.25/5