Ottawa: the dark and light... and some IPAs

THE FALLEN: Corporal Nathan Cirillo, a soldier
reservist in the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders
of Canada was gunned down in his ceremonial
uniform by an asshole while standing guard at
the War Memorial. He was just 24 years old.

Well, as renowned Scottish poet Robbie Burns once wrote, "The best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry...", meaning simply, the minute you declare your plans out loud, the fates have a way of going, "LOL... good one, bonehead!" Actually, since it was written back in the 1700s, the poem actually said: "The best laid plans o' mice an' men gang aft agley." But I thought, "If I type that, the reader is gonna think I'm already hammered." Which I'm not. Yet. (Let's not rule it out in the near future.)

You see, at the end of my last blog, I said this time I would be writing about how I finally caught up with my old college roommate Gary, our silly college shenanigans on Parliament Hill in Ottawa many moons ago and of course, clear up some of this back-log of beers that need reviewing. I will still do that but I can't lead with shenanigans because things changed. In fact, it was Ottawa, the Canadian capitol, itself that changed very solemnly on Wednesday in the briefest flash of gun-fire. That's when an armed lunatic marched towards Parliament Hill, killed an unarmed soldier, Hamilton native Corporal Nathan Cirillo, 24 and a father of one, who was standing ceremonial guard at the War Memorial outside and proceeded to march into Parliament Hill, unloading gunfire on a day when the building was filled with civilians, government workers and politicians alike.

THE HERO:  Parliament Hill Sergeant-At-Arms Kevin
Vickers was given a prolonged standing ovation by
all our MPs when the House resumed on October 23rd.

He didn't get very far. With security on high alert, he was stopped quickly by the side-arm of Parliament Hill's Sergeant-At-Arms Kevin Vickers, who holds a position seemingly of ceremony (his everyday duties include carrying a huge fancy mace into parliament) but is actually the head of the entire security team for Parliament Hill. But Vickers is also a 29-year veteran of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who took the position of director of security back in 2005. As far as I have read, during his entire career, he has never had to fire so much as one shot. Oh, believe me, like all law enforcement officers, he was well-trained to. But on this one fatal day when he had to, simply to protect the innocent, he did. He is being lauded in every corner, including this one, as a Canadian hero. As the news was unfolding, for a fleeting moment, Canada suddenly felt like a very unsafe place, which is not the norm. The moment I read about Vickers, the warmth of security was being restored. We are well-protected by the best of the best. My first hope is that Corporal Cirillo will continue to watch over his young son from above. My second hope is that Mr. Vickers will continue to watch over the rest of this country. For as long as possible.

You see that upper gallery (centre) at the House of
Commons in Parliament Hill? Yeah, I tried to climb
down from there to land on the main floor. This was
a long time ago and I wasn't remotely successful...

I wasn't looking to start this on a sad note but frankly to me, it's more a story of strength - a nation's strength and one man's strength - than that of a psychotic asshat, who I'll not name. The minute he pulled out a gun and aimed it at innocents, he lost all rights of identity with me.

Okay, now that we've dealt with the past week in Ottawa, as horrific as it was, let's go back to a kinder, gentler time when Journalism students roamed the streets of Ottawa like drunken sewer rats. (Pending any and all lawsuits, I apologize to sewer rats in advance. J-School 101 - apologize in print for unflattering comparisons.) It took three of the Beer Musketeers more than two hours to track down my old college roommate, Gary, on the internet. Stevil St Evil is the undisputed champion of Google search. I knew much more of Gary's past than the other two - small details like, oh, say, his wife's name. And Glenn? Well, on his good days, he knows how to spell "Google" so he was clearly pivotal. (I jest - he chipped in a few key finds.) And while we didn't find Gary, we eventually found his wife, Pat, on Facebook and living in Ottawa. Close enough for Rock 'n' Roll, my friends. After getting Pat on my Facebook Friend's list (again, J-School 101 - sorry about the other riff-raff on there, honey... it's no reflection on you), it was a matter of exactly two days before Gary and I were on the phone, catching up on over 20 missed years.

This man and I have stories that would curl
your decency up into a tiny quivering ball.
Not apologizing. We're kinda proud of that!

It was a wonderful if long overdue talk but Gary stumped me when at one point, he asked if I remembered how we first met back in college. Given that college was a constant blur of drunken tomfoolery for all of us (we were in Journalism - that is expected), I honestly couldn't remember. Well, turns out it was during a J-School field trip to Ottawa for our Political Science class during our first year. When our group visited Parliament Hill, I'm certain that it held some reverence for a group of wannabe reporters, simply standing in the hallowed halls where Canada justice and law is created. For Gary and myself, it may as well have been an afternoon jaunt to a children's petting zoo. Despite not knowing each other, we broke off from the pack and simply decided to take our own unsupervised tour that covered every square inch of Parliament Hills, including public corridors and private offices. Now I'm not suggesting we may have picked up a souvenir or two along the way but somehow (as if by magic), we were carrying this 'Big Book of Canadian Railways' - a book we certainly did not walk in with. Also, we were kicked off every single floor by security, who likely deemed us quickly and accurately as a couple of harmless nuisances. But we pretty much had the best and most thorough tour of any of our classmates and for me, it set an early tone. Now, whenever I go on vacation and take some boring tour, I tend to break away from the pack quickly.

This photo was actually Tweeted by the Senate
of Canada yesterday. It speaks volumes... Also,
our Senate does Twitter. How cool is that???

The next afternoon, our class went to tour the Russian Embassy in Ottawa, probably not the smartest place to wander at will. Gary and I decided a Brunch Beer Fest in our hotel room was a far superior idea. Our Political Science teacher descended upon us in our room, door wide open and was about to ream us out seven ways to Sunday for being the discourteous, disrespectful oafs that we were. That is until our Journalism Course Coordinator (so his boss) came wandering out of our bathroom, beer in hand. If there was one thing Gary and I learned at J-School, it was how to get into and then just as quickly out of trouble. Also if you're going to have an impromptu beer bash in a hotel room, important guests are key.

The phone call ended with a promised visit to see Gary and Pat in Ottawa (a city steeped with craft breweries... by happy coincidence) and frankly, I can say, no matter which season you choose, Ottawa is a beautiful place. I'll likely throw Glenn into the passenger seat for the Ottawa trip as trouble tends to gravitate towards him, leaving Gary and I free and clear to wander capitol city's hallways we probably shouldn't once again.

Cool little bottle. But the content? Meh!
Bring me the 99 Double IPA, people!!!

Okay, a few quick India Pale Ales that I imbibed recently, all of which I liked much enough but none of which bowled me over. Mike Duggan is the stuff of Toronto craft beer folklore - he is considered by many to be a pioneer in the field. As he has just reopened a brewpub in Toronto's Parkdale area (after contract-brewing at Etobicoke's Cool Brewery), it was high time to try his Duggan's # 9 IPA. Coming in an oddball little 275-ml (9.2 ounce) bottle, this IPA is a solid pale ale perhaps but not a strong IPA. At 6.2%, it has little in the way of aroma beyond light floral and goes down more like a malty lager. Like I said, a good beer but not the kind of head-blasting, tastebud-mangling IPA favoured at Donny's Bar and Grill. Nonetheless, I have heard his #7 Stout and #8 London Porter are pretty solid from Duggan aficionados so perhaps a road-trip to that new brewpub is warranted.

Interestingly enough, although it scored a full 20 points lower on RateBeer, I much preferred the Lake of Bays (Baysville, Ontario) 10-Point IPA. Again, more of a pale ale than IPA, the 6% "starter" IPA is a little piney and fruity on the nose, lightly hoppy on the tongue... but it fades fast!!! Not a bad beer but again, not a strong IPA - though, like Duggan's, a good crossover IPA for lager and ales drinkers. Also the brewery's Mocha Porter, which I love, should be in liquor stores by now so... yes, guy!

Holy crap, Muskoka Craft Lager beat out THREE craft IPAs
in this blog? Are dogs and cats suddenly fornicating???

And I'm afraid Samuel Adams Latitude 48 IPA, despite having the best mark of the three on RateBeer with an 80, was the weakest of the three to me. The aroma was earthy (not a bad thing) but also too malty. Caramel and weakly hoppy on the tongue. This Boston brewery makes many fine brews. This isn't one of them.

So what did I like this week? A lager. Yup, not kidding. Co-worker Marie bought a six-pack of Muskoka Brewery Craft Lager to try (given her recent fetish for Beau's Lug-Tread Lagered Ale) and while she was not sold, her beau, Ernie, quite liked it. I was given the tie-breaker. Of course, it gets punted on RateBeer (as do all lagers) but damn, grassy but also lightly hoppy on the nose (unexpected for a lager), it went down smoothly with a touch of malt and fruitiness but it was crisp, clean and enjoyed! This is the level that all mainstream lagers should strive for - a real beer drinker's lager!

Shhhh, actually, it's the same person but
dammit, this is my alibi and I'm sticking to it!

Okay, sometime tomorrow the ravaging hordes will descend upon Donny's Bar and Grill for the First Annual Mid-Autumn Night's Decadent Dangerous Craft Beer Festival. I shall take pictures when the Police arrive, provided I am not being (deservedly) clubbed at the time. This should kick more than a little ass.

As for Gary, how did he remain hidden on the Internet when virtually all of us leave obvious, clomping cyber-footprints?? (It would take less than two seconds to find me on Google.) Turns out he doesn't use the computer. Doesn't like it. Hasn't been on it for, well, quite some time - decades, even. Small wonder we had to bust our butts to find him... well, not even him, actually, but his wife, Pat. I am happy to report that Gary - with Pat's assistance - is now on Facebook and the United States' NSA (National Security Agency) can finally monitor his every word. Stevil St Evil and I often mourn for the NSA agent left to monitor our conversations and fear for his/her mental well-being after reading our garbage. We suspect it goes something like this at the NSA Headquarters: "Sir, it's not that they're subversive or even remotely a national threat... but these two guys? They're seriously messed up..."

Also Dennis, my college roommate just prior to Gary, told me to say hey to him when we talked. Dennis and Gary used to get into huge musical debates over who was better: The Beatles or The Who? Gary sided with The Who while Dennis chose the correct answer. Just sayin'... Okay, guys and dolls, that's it, that's all and I am outta here!!!! Until next time, I remain, as always...