The Mountain lives on and some Summer Beers

So anyway, I have a new co-worker, Ryan. Here's his pic.

As it is Summer, the busy season, there has been a small influx of new workers at my Beer Store. So far, the two I've met - and worked with - are Lyall and Ryan. I would tell you more about Lyall except that if Ryan is in the room, it's impossible to see Lyall, much less communicate. That's because Ryan is the size of a wall. This young man is a behemoth and frankly, I have decided he is my new best friend because, well, who wouldn't want a Godzilla-sized dude on their side? To all my old best friends, puny lot that you are, sorry... I wish you all well. Don't bitch... it was a helluva ride. Even if we don't remember good chunks of it.

As it turns out, Ryan played professional football for two years with the Saskatchewan Roughriders of the Canadian Football League. If you are from outside Canada or North America, please stop laughing - Saskatchewan is a real place.

Saskatchewan Joke (Told With Affection) Before We Continue With This: An older well-travelled British couple are at the airport, waiting for their flight when they spot a young man, looking very confused at the departure screen.

This is roughly the size I feel when Ryan and I
occupy the same room. I'm there. You just don't
see me because, well... a Huge Wall Of Ryan...

The wife notes the lad looks puzzled and asks her husband to go give him a hand. So over the husband goes.
"Where are you headed to?" asks the man.
"Saskatoon, Saskatchewan," says the young fellow.
"Oh, right then, you have a good day," says the man.
Going back to his wife, she asks him if he was able to help.
"Not really," says the man. "He doesn't speak English."

And we're back. So, of course, I have to ask Ryan, "You ever watch Game of Thrones?"
Oh yeah, he says, huge fan. (Huge fan? No kidding.) "Anyone ever call you The Mountain?" I grin.
"Yeah," he chuckles, "(Our co-worker) Saga did two days ago." Damn that Saga - always one step ahead of me. So anyway, the Roughriders play out of Saskatchewan's capitol city, Regina (and now you're laughing again - pipe down, it's Latin for "Queen"... and now you're laughing even harder...) You people are horrible.

I asked him what life was like in Regina. Well, according to Ryan, the minute you leave city limits, you are surrounded by wheat fields. In every direction. The whole Province is wheat fields. Bummer for Ryan but folks, let's thank Saskatchewan for helping bakers out with relatively unimportant things like bread and bagels and far more important things like helping breweries across North America create some fantastic wheat beers.

A much more clean-cut Brew-Ha-Ha stumbles into
my long-time bro, Ian, at a Kings of Leon concert.
Nothing but smiles and laughter when we connect.

But the big thing about Ryan, currently going to Osgoode Hall in Toronto to get a Law Degree (a wall-sized intimidating lawyer - again, my new best friend), is his younger brother, Ian - one of my all-time favourite part-timers at the Beer Store. Ian is one of those guys I don't see all the time, now that's he's no longer a part-timer but out there in the real world. But when he fills in an emergency shift to help out, he and I pick up exactly where we left off. We have at times gone a full year without seeing each other, even longer. It doesn't matter. One of my favourite Ian stories is the time we crossed paths at a Kings of Leon concert at the Molson Amphitheatre in Toronto a few summers back. I was there with a new girlfriend whereas Ian and a bunch of his buddies had been partying all afternoon and came in a limousine. Having never met my GF, Ian did exactly what a bro should - he started talking me up to my lady. Bro Rule #93: Being a wing-man is an ongoing process. Even after your bro gets the lady, you continue with the Subliminal Wing-Man Duties, meaning talking your buddy up. And Ian was as smooth as silk.

Kaaad Spring IPA out of Kastrup, Denmark.
This is NOT a melancholy Dane. Damn good!

A couple of days later, I called him to thank him on a job well done - a brother does you a solid, you acknowledge it. Ian had to confess that when he groggily saw himself tagged on the above Facebook picture the following morning, he pulled it up and said to himself, "I saw Donny last night?" So he pulled off those stellar Subliminal Wing-Man Duties while absolutely plowed. That, my friends, is positive proof that Ian is the Gold Standard for Wing-Men.

Okay, another good bro, Kevin, has been long hoping I could find a good IPA from Denmark, his homeland. Challenge... accepted. Except I didn't find a good IPA... no, what I found was an outstanding IPA. Kaaad Spring IPA decided screw that malty British style IPA and went the American hop route. But apparently they weren't certain what hops to use. So they used them all. Summit, Chinook, Simcoe, Centennial, Amarillo and Cascade hops are the rocket fuel in this little hop-blast. The aroma is... everything. Pine, citrus, mango, grapefruit, you name it... while on the tongue, bitter and sweet. A great little find! About $6 a bottle at the LCBO. If you see it, grab it. You can thank me later.

More tart than sweet, Amsterdam's Framboise is a "one and
done" but still, give 'er a shot. It's a summer-time thing...

Next on deck from Beer Musketeer Cat's home brewery, Amsterdam, is their raspberry-infused Framboise. On the nose, all raspberry. On the tongue, all raspberry... though it has just enough tartness to carry me past the sweet. I quite like it but doubt I could have more than one per sitting. Amsterdam should consider dropping this into the Fruit Beer category of a beer competition - I suspect it might medal. Also it's not pumpkin-related in the least and is 6.5% so it's got that going for it.

Okay, recently the Beer Store closest to mine closed for two weeks for renovation and while they were closed, we took on their employees because in essence, our business doubled and our empties purchases seemed to triple. We needed their help. Desperately.

They named a beer after me? Do I get,
like, royalties or something? Free beer?

So anyway, one night, I found myself working with present co-worker Marie and former co-worker Karen, two ladies in their 30s. They were talking about one of Karen's co-workers, a guy who apparently wears "skinny jeans". That they even make skinny jeans for guys at all baffles me - not one guy I know wouldn't wear track-pants all day, every day if we could get away with it. So when the conversation steered to his, uh, junk, I noted that guys don't usually notice that kind of stuff. They outright scoffed because well, women are constantly checking out other women... right down to a molecular level. So what do guys notice about other guys, they asked. I had to think for a second. Then it struck me. Facial hair. If a dude is rocking a sick-ass beard or a sweet 'stache, that's something we notice and appreciate. They seemed confused so I offered a case-in-point.

After a shift one day, I popped into an LCBO for a few newbies. Young guy there laughed and asked if I forgot to buy my beer at work. I smiled and said no, I had my beers... just looking for a few extra odds-and-sods to add a little ethnic beer diversity to the fridge at Donny's Bar and Grill. As I wandered through their Craft Beer aisle, he came flying up to me with a Lake of Bay's Cujo, a blonde ale named after former Toronto Maple Leaf goalie, Curtis Joseph, above right.

"Jim, I drank the Vulcan Ale. Remember I enjoyed serving
with you. And while I am dying, please live long and prosper."

"Do you like hockey?" he asked. I dunno - kind of a weird question for one Canadian to ask another but anyway... So he handed over the Cujo, which I took. Why? As I told the girls, he had a big-ass lumberjack beard and he was just a kid - I thought that was cool. How was it? Not too bad, actually. Kind of gets panned on RateBeer but this 8% beer wasn't too shabby. Grassy on the nose with some mild hoppiness (Saaz hops, likely), it's malty on the tongue. My favourite LoB beer is their Mocha Porter and while this is not pushing it out of the top spot, I quite enjoyed it. Good call, Beard Boy.

But "Grab Your Crotch Tuesdays" and "Soil Yourself
Thursdays" will continue on, business as usual, right?

One beer I bought for Beer Musketeers Glenn and Cat when they descended on Donny's Bar and Grill was one they never had. A Vulcan Ale, brewed specifically for Vulcan, Alberta's Centennial celebrations by Harvest Moon Brewery in Montana. What can I tell you? This stuff is killer... and by killer, I mean, set your phasers on "kill", not "stun". Don't shoot at the Romulans. Send cases of this crap over to their ship and let them die them naturally. An Irish Red? Not hardly. Imagine a bag of barley that's been left out in the rain and then sun and then more rain for seven weeks. That's the aroma. I wish the taste even came close to matching that. You know how you watch a really crappy Nicholas Cage movie and you walk away thinking, "Well, it could be worse, I suppose. I could actually be Nicholas Cage." This beer aspires to ascend to that level of badness. If I have done one decent, one noble, one saintly thing in my life, it is this - I did not inflict this Stephen King horror story of a beer on my fellow Musketeers.

Okay, that's plenty for today. As for myself, I am off to play the Bob Marley Drinking Game. What's that, you ask? Well, you play Marley's song, Jammin' and every time he says "jammin", you drink half a beer. My personal best? Two and a half listens before I was on the floor like a dirty sock. Here, you try: The Bob Marley Drinking Game Good luck. It's a damn hard game. Don't front-load the ganja prior to the game... it'll kill you faster than Vulcan Ale

Well, guys and dolls, this has been a blast... but that's it, that's all and I am outta here! As always, until next time, I remain...