Granville Island Pale Ale with my step-son

As a lark last Christmas, my step-sons Josh and Ryan
decided to have a picture taken with Santa. While in line,
they noticed all the kids has exactly two expressions -
either crying or distracted. So they mimicked that here.

When I first met the two young men who would eventually become my step-sons, Ryan was 13 years old and Josh was just eight. I had been dating their Mom a short while and Ryan, tired of simply talking to me on the phone, finally said, "Look, invite the guy over so we can meet him." So one night, I showed up on their doorstep. Noting that Ryan was, in fact, taller than his Mom, I helpfully pointed out, "Once you're taller than someone, you don't have to listen to them anymore. It's in the rules." (While Ryan enjoyed that concept and my sense of humour, I believe that I got 'words' from someone after that.) As for Josh, well, he seemed somewhat embarrassed that I had caught him at the coffee table in his underwear doing homework. To put him at ease, I casually noted, "I find it's faster to do homework naked because then you're rushing through so you can put some clothes on."

And thus began a long and continuing friendship with these two fellows, both of whom, I discovered quickly, were exceptionally intelligent and thoughtful as young boys, who would only grow moreso in that vein as young men. The marriage to their Mom didn't last but my strong and quasi-parental connection to these two dudes is pretty much a for-life deal.

Lindsay holding up baby Annabelle, who
appears to be thinking, "Please tell me I'm
not related to this guy I'm looking at..."

But time does, in fact, pass quickly as Ryan is now a high school Science teacher in Edmonton while Josh, a recent university graduate, has also flown out west to strike out on his own.

Now a key component must be introduced at this point and her name is Lindsay, the beautiful young lady Ryan met out west. Having seen Ryan through his teenage years, I remember well previous girlfriends and while they were all lovely young ladies, my concern was that none of them brought enough to the table, so to speak, for a young man like Ryan. Then he brought Lindsay out east for all of us to meet. Within a half hour, I thought, "Bingo. This is absolutely the one." A half hour after that, I was thinking, "If the boy drops the ball on this one, I shall rip his arms and legs off and feed them to the sharks." Not only did Lindsay bring more than enough to the table, the table was, in fact, overflowing. Their story continued to the inevitable engagement phone call (full disclosure: I lost my shit in the happiest possible way) and finally a storybook marriage and reception in Banff three summers ago where I got to meet Lindsay's parents, Rosie and Norm - both exceptional people and crystal-clear reasons you could see why the Lindsay Acorn did not fall far from the Mighty Parental Oak. Rosie and Norm absolutely rock!

The level of my enthusiasm during the speeches at
Ryan and Lindsay's wedding was appropriate. It was the
best reception I have ever attended and the speeches
were outstanding. Also yes, I wore a Superman tie...

Now before this beer blog actually, y'know, gets to the beer portion, one more tiny component must be introduced. You see, when Lindsay and Ryan popped into town last week, they brought their daughter, Annabelle, who's just on the shy side of one-year-old. I caught her on a fussy night (which, as any young parents will attest, happens on occasion) but what a beautiful little girl. Granted as two more babies filled our section at the local Turtle Jack's, Lindsay was duly concerned that Annabelle's crying would, in fact, create what she called "Baby Dominoes" - whereby if one baby cries, it starts a chain reaction. (Baby Dominoes - that's brilliant. See what I mean about Lindsay?) Our night was cut a little short by the fussing but still was long enough for us all to catch up and most importantly, for me to meet my grand-daughter. While Norm had quickly taken Grandpa Norm and Ryan's Dad went with Paka Mike as a nod to his Dutch heritage, it was left to me to decide what my monicker would be. While Beer Musketeer Stevil St Evil was leaning towards "Drinky Donny" and Ryan suggested "Batman Donner", in the end, I chose Bumpa Don as that's what I called my grandfathers and more importantly, it's what my son David called my late father - Bumpa Jack. Wow, I'm a grand-dad. That is so cool!

Granville Island Brewery in BC first hit the scene back in
the mid-1980s and was the first wave of craft offerings
in that province. Stevil St Evil remembers them fondly.
I suspect others may have passed them but they were
the pioneers of small-craft brewing in BC for years

And for the first time ever, Ryan and I got to talk craft beers as he is favouring some new ones in Edmonton and western-Canada-at-large while I am piling through most of Ontario's and a growing chunk of the USA's. As most of Turtle Jack's taps are mainstream beers, I made the poor waitress rattle off (twice) the entire tap selection. I was leaning towards a Guinness until she said, "Granville Island." Which Granville Island? Their English Bay Pale Ale. Sold to the three legal people at the table - sorry, Annabelle, juice for you. While this beer is punished on RateBeer (17 - ouch!), in a roadhouse bar filled with mainstream choices, it is a treat! Some unexpected vanilla and caramel on the nose, this goes down with some tangy fruit on the tongue. That said, Ryan's favourite from the Granville folks is their hugely-popular Lions Winter Ale while I lean towards their Robson Street Hefeweizen, which we only stock in the summer. However, I have noticed their Ginja Ninja Ginger Beer at the liquor stores and hey, with a name like that, I pretty much have to, don't I?

An outstanding label around a less-outstanding IPA

When I saw Shipyard Monkey Fist IPA at the liquor store, I knew I had to have one. I mean, look at the label - how cool is that? But Beer Musketeer Glenn told me not only had I already tried it, I warned him away from both it and Railway City's Dead Elephant IPA many months ago. The Dead Elephant I remember, the Monkey Fist I did not. Made by Shipyard Brewing out of Portland, Maine (the other Portland), this is not the worst IPA I've ever had but it's so far behind the front-runners that it's been lapped twice. Slightly orange and citrus on the nose, it's all bready malt on the tongue. A label as cool as this deserves a far better product inside the can. Apparently, I was right on the money with my first (long-forgotten) assessment of it. I call monkey shines and shenanigans on this one!

Well, how 'bout that? Royal Unibrew finally made a good one

I have finally found a member of the Faxe family out of Royal Unibrew in Faxe, Denmark, that I enjoy. The Faxe 5 lager is typically Euro-lager, meaning not offensive but not particularly noteworthy. The Faxe Amber is actually a step down from that. And the Faxe 10% is best used to clean out your car's carburetor with and is unfit for human consumption... unless you're a terrorist of some sort or perhaps never want your neighbours to darken your door-step instead. So it was with some trepidation that I tried their new Faxe Red. Much to my surprise, I quite liked this fruit beer. Light fruits on the nose, apple on the tongue, this is a decent summer beer. And a welcome surprise from the Royal Unibrew folks.

Lindsay, Ryan, my boy David and me at the wedding three summers ago

Next up we have Scottish beers and man, there are some good ones. But a couple quick memories, if I can. When I caught up with Josh at Ryan and Lindsay's wedding three years ago, I hadn't seen him in five years (though we still stayed in touch.) Imagine my surprise when he looked me square in the eye at the meet-and-greet the night before and said, "Donner, let's get our drink on!" Having not done the Math, I didn't even know he was legal. (And boy, we did get our drink on!) And while Ryan confessed to me he had only read this blog a handful of times (though I'm kinda forcing his hand today, aren't I?), he prefers to save his reading for Science-related matters. Fair enough. But he noted his pal, Robbie (one of his ushers) was a regular Brew-Ha-Ha! reader. For the record, people, Dr Robbie is now an astro-physicist and teaching Physics at Red Deer College out west, having moved there at the beginning of this month. You know what this means? A freakin' rocket scientist reads this! When I get business cards done, I'm putting that on there. Brew-Ha-Ha!: The Favourite Beer Blog of Rocket Scientists Everywhere! Well, one singular rocket scientist - but printers make mistakes, right? Okay, guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here!!! Until next time, I remain...