I have been not working/on vacation for about two weeks now and I am quickly coming to the end of my rope. Wife has also been off from work these past two weeks. It has been a magical time with the family. However, after finding where Wife mistakenly put the steak sauce today, I thought, “That is not where the steak sauce goes,” and things quickly unraveled from there.
I don't even use the steak sauce, but seeing it in the spot where I expect to see the Kosher salt really shook me up. After a deep breath, I thought, “Now where is the Kosher salt?”
Oh, there it is – right where I keep my cumin powder. Great, now where the hell is the cumin?
WHERE THE HELL IS THE CUMIN?
This went on for about five more minutes – finding one spice in a spot that, in my mind, is dedicated to another spice, then screaming, again in my mind, about where said other spice might be – a total chain reaction of spice cabinet crazy that ended the only way such an episode could end – with all my spices in the garbage and my kitchen cabinets on fire.
I jest, of course, because spices are expensive. So are kitchen cabinets, for that matter.
In effort to calm down, I went to the refrigerator for some delicious lemonade. Apparently, as I removed the plastic gallon jug from the shelf, its lid was somehow jostled loose, or knocked off entirely. I am of the opinion that the lid may not have been firmly returned atop the jug by the previous drinker of the lemonade. More specifically, perhaps Wife, known to be lazy with lids, did not successfully complete her most recent lemonade transaction. She certainly opened the lid – on that we can all agree. And she poured herself some lemonade – she admits to that much. But did she close the lid?
“Of course I did,” Wife said.
To which the evidence said, “Well, I suggest otherwise.”
“Shake well,” the jug said.
So, while still unaware that my delicious lemonade was lid-less, I shook the jug. I shook the jug with the vigor of a man angry with his cabinets full of unorganized spices. I quickly became aware, omniscient even, of the fact that the lemonade jug was without lid. Lemonade seemed to be instantly everywhere. It was like a World Series locker room celebration, except with just one guy. And some lemonade.
There has only ever been one other thing in this world that I have simultaneously loved and hated like I loved and hated that non-sexual golden shower, and I knew, almost immediately, that those two things (Wife and this cold golden shower) were somehow related.
With the perfect timing of network television, Wife walked into the kitchen and asked what was all over my shirt, my face, and the floor – as if the near empty jug of delicious lemonade in my hand was invisible. Through the wet lenses of my stylish glasses, I saw the silly look of awe, amusement, and happy guilt on her face. Calm, like a lake in the mountains, I replied, “I shook the lemonade.”
Then I turned into a dragon and burned down the entire town with my breath.
Not completely unrelated, I recently watched the movie Gravity and the film made me feel as if I had eaten four hot dogs and drank too much lemonade, even though I had not had either for days.
More recently and even less related, I ate two bratwurst and drank two cans of Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy while sitting pool side at my Sister-in-law's house. (I specifically worded that sentence in a manner that would allow me to avoid the plural spelling of 'Shandy' because, frankly, 'Shandies' just doesn't look right.).
Prior to this experience, I had never had a Summer Shandy. Partly because I typically had better options available and partly because of the strange, fake craft-ness that comes along with Leinenkugel's being a subsidiary of the macro-beer giant SABMiller. However, on this particular day, my only other choice was Bud Light Lime. And I was thirsty.
Like I said, prior to this experience I had never had a Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy. It was on a rather short list of things that I consider to be readily available that I have never tried. As of this writing, the only two things remaining on that list are 'Pie' and 'Iced Tea'. Soak that idea in through your eye holes for just a minute.
Cobbler was on the list until two weeks ago, although I'm not sure if cobbler is considered readily available because I'm not sure if I really knew what cobbler was until two weeks ago. Either way, before indulging in said peach blueberry cobbler, I asked Wife if eating the cobbler might be considered an asterisk on my otherwise impressive 'pie streak'. She assured me that pie and cobbler were two different desserts and that my life without pie would still be a very real, albeit completely stupid, thing.
I am almost 36 years old and it does not seem completely stupid to me.
Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy, Jacob Leinenkugel Brewing Company (8.17 BAR, 104 Style+)
Appearance = 2.5/5
It was in a can. And the can was okay looking. Nothing special though, as far as cans go.
Smell = 3/5
Again, it was in a can. So, it smelled like can, or aluminum, with some lemon and sweet wheat smell making it's way up and out. Is lemon-metal a thing? Like a metal version of It's A Shame About Ray?
Taste = 3/5
Fizzy lemonade that you are somehow aware is made specifically for adults. I wouldn't say it tasted like beer, but it also didn't quite taste like a soda. Like a metal version of It's A Shame About Ray, this is not necessarily a bad thing, at least in the right situation.
Feel = 3/5
If I started a band based on the feel of this beer, it would not be a stretch for that band to be named 'Thin Fizzy', as the beer is mostly fizzy, and, well, thin – which on a hot day might be a good idea.
Overall = 3/5
I can see the mass appeal – it tastes like fizzy lemonade that will get you drunk. That's definitely appealing. Single readers should use that as a description for themselves on a dating site. I guarantee you will get winked at and involved in at least one no-strings-attached-purely-physical-if-thats-what-your-looking-for-relationship. Just forward me your username. Wink.
Because of this Summer Shandy Experience, I am officially interesting in trying a shandy or radler made by an actual craft brewery. What are some good ones that I should be looking for at my local bottle shop?
J. R. Shirt is very happily married and therefore does not use/subscribe to any internet dating sites. So there will be no actual winking. Follow him on Twitter and Untapped @beeronmyshirt.