Budweiser, "The King of Beers" has been deposed. . .

. . .at least according to Beer Marketer's Insights and The Wall Street Journal.

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Blatz, the Milwaukee beer for moms and babies

Marion Barry's beer poster by Flying Dog Brewery

A beer poster produced by Frederick-based Flying Dog Brewery featuring an image of former mayor, now Councilmember Marion Barry, was taken down today after a call from Barry's attorney.

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My Traveling Partners

Keelin Curran, Colin Whitcheloe, and Claire Brummet
at a fortification wall at a massive Fort we visited


Keelin standing at the sea wall with the Bay
of Bengal behind her



Claire and Colin with a pitcher of beer at
Leopolds in Mumbai. They--and many other
watering holes serve these silly "beer towers"
instead of pitchers

Obama brokers beer bash and breaks out the bombers

By Pablo Fanque
All This Is That National Affairs Correspondent

President Barack Obama acted as the bartender on Thursday at a "beer summit" meet-up of the main figures in a highly charged case of racial politics. Obama hoped to turn the broil into a "positive lesson" in the national debate on race relations.

President Obama described the meet as a "friendly, thoughtful" conversation over beers at the White House with Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates, who is black, and a cop, Sergeant James Crowley, who is white. Vice-President "Crazy" Joe Biden also showed up to throw back a few.

Earlier this month, Crowley arrested Gates for disorderly conduct after a confrontation over Gates not identifying himself (someone called the police, believing Gates was an intruder). Words "were exchanged," and both parties seem to have lost their cool. This, naturally, sparked a media feeding frenzy as the 58 year old Gates, accused the policeman of racial profiling. Crowley denied this and accused Gates of overreacting.

Obama poured gasoline on the troubled waters by saying he thought police "acted stupidly" in arresting his acquaintance, Professor Gates.




According to sources in the White House, even after several beers, the atmosphere was tense. The President rolled a couple of joints and passed them around. When our source returned to the meeting, everyone at the table was laughing uproariously and demanding more beer.
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My eight favorite Austin music clubs and dive bars

Beerland sign

Stubbs BBQ (Great outdoor shows. I've been to five shows there, and they were all excellent. A great crowd, mixing cowboys, students, fans, and tourists. Grab a Shiner's Bock and enjoy.)


Jimmy LaFave playing with Lucinda Williams and Kevin Welch at Austin's Hole In The Wall (one of my favorite Austin dives, and where Roger Wallace plays regularly)

Hole In The Wall (A most excellent dive, a couple of blocks from Ruby's BBQ, my second favorite Austin barbecue spot...after The Salt Lick).

Guero's (An indoor restaurant with very good Tex-Mex food. But I usually hang out at their outdoor music court with excellent slurpy-machine Margaritas. Guero's is located next door to my favorite hotel, The Hotel San Jose).

The Continental Club (Across the street from The San Jose and the Austin Motel, and Guero's...often featuring classic country and Texas Blues).



Beerland (A great rockin' club, near Stubbs and Emo's. Beer and rock...a classic pairing).

Emo's (Punk, alt, rock down the block from Stubbs).

Antone's (A classic Austin joint, often with big touring shows).

Ginny's Little Longhorn Saloon (The Austin home of honky-tonk. A great dive. If you're lucky, you might be there on a night when Dale Watson is playing. There is never a cover. Don't miss Sundays, when they play Chicken S**t Bingo,...wherever the chicken defecates is the next number).


Ginny's
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Scooter and $2 all you can drink beer day at the Sundowner circa 1973

1973 stands out in my mind among many of the years I have stomped through. Life was very good. I was in my second year working as a full time volunteer at a community center, for $40 a week, mostly doing draft counseling, writing some grants, working on the crisis/help hotline of The Sixth Chamber, handholding people on bad acid trips, referring people to doctors, and talking people out of committing suicide until they could actually talk to someone who knew what theywere doing.

I was living at a new apartment complex east of Kent, Wash., with another fellow worker at The Sixth Chamber. He was on public assistance, and had a welfare aparment--two floor, two bedroom. We split the subsidized rent of $37.50 a month. Although I did kick in my $18.75 a month, along with me came my dearest friend, Scooter. Scooter was broke, jobless, probably depressed, and parked himself on our couch for the three months between college terms.

Scooter didn't work that summer, but somehow scraped by. Once a week, however, there was an escape. The Sundowner Tavern, virtually located within our apartment complex, ran a special on Thursday: all the draft beer you can drink for $2. The doors opened at around noon, and the special continued until closing time (2 A.M.). You can imagine the potent forces that coalesced sometime around midnight. A gigantic welfare complex where no one worked, and a fair number of the denizens were on "mental disability." Endless beer, virtually free, and wackjobs with time on their hands, and a grudge against the world. Considering how bad it could have been, I don't remember that many fights or arrests, and the ones I do remember usually involved another friend of ours, Mel. Somehow Scooter survived the couch, the lack of mon and food, and still succeeded in having at least a couple of girlfriends on the line. He would serve one more term surfing my couch in utter poverty--in the fall of 1978, when he joined us in New York City, a city where he still rests his bootheels.

I am hoping Scooter is lurking here and can amplify this story. I know it has to be better than I am telling it. There must be some juicy anecdotes that have slipped my mind...