I'd like to start this week's F-Word Friday by issuing an apology. Back in late March, in a blatant and transparent attempt to diversify and expand wedding blog readership, I wrote a post that touched on vampires, sex, rock 'n roll, more sex, basketball, and still more sex. And it worked.... we quadrupled regular male readership from 3 to 12, and even got a couple of them to comment. And how did I say thank you? With consecutive F-Word Fridays about men wearing skirts, shoes, and...that other topic that I can't really tell you about, cuz it's still a total secret. I don't know what to say other than "Gentlemen, I'm sorry."
So this week, in the second-to-last F-Word Friday, we're making amends. We're giving back. We're talking beer.
Our "rehearsal dinner" Saturday night is a barbeque cookout in the yard of a big beachside house overlooking the ocean. Pulled pork, boiled shrimp, coleslaw, cornbread. Checkered tablecloths. Footballs, frisbees, and volleyballs flying all over the place. With any luck, it will look like something out of a beer commercial. Which means one thing: we actually need beer. But not just any beer. I mean sure, we could probably throw a couple of cheap brand-name domestic kegs at this crowd and still get the desired response, but Maggie and I (but especially Maggie) have a hint of beer snob in us. So I spoke to a friend who happens to work for a brewer in Montreal, laid out the scene for him, and asked for some help.
Visionary that he is, my budding brewmaster buddy came back with a truly inspired idea.... he showed us a list of six microbrews he could personally vouch for, three of which are from Connecticut (my home state), and three from NC, and thought we should pick one from each state to throw even more local fare into the mix. What's more, he found a local liquor store on the Outer Banks willing to order en masse for us. From these suggestions, we chose the Duck Rabbit Amber to represent the Tar Heel state, and an IPA called Sea Hag from New England Brewing in Woodbridge, CT (we passed on the Thomas Hooker IPA in spite of the obvious temptation to supply ourselves with an unending littany of "Hooker at a wedding" jokes). But our friend wasn't done. Knowing as all good brewmen do that a large cadre of rehearsal attendees will steer clear of the fancy microbrew, he even suggested we provide Lone Star to placate the Coors Light crowd, and allow us to run up the tiniest of Texas flags in spite of ourselves. (And before any of you locals say "wait, how can you pick Lone Star over Shiner?!", try to remember that Shiner sucks....too many Texans blindly love Shiner just because it's from Texas. It's the Dallas Cowboys of regional pseudo microbrew. Lone Star may be no better, and might even be worse, but I simply refuse to perpetuate the Shiner myth any longer. Not only that, but Lone Star is an infinitely better beerpong beer than Shiner. And there will be beerpong.)
So we're set to place the orders tomorrow. Cases and cases. Maybe even kegs. Hopefully enough to last for a few late nights and even into the following week, since Maggie and I are sticking around after everyone else heads home. Gotta have something to drink with your toes in the sand.