I recently did a little traveling for business. Got to go to Dayton, Ohio - had a good college hoop team there a few years ago, didn't they? Why Dayton you might ask? Dayton is the mothership of the company I work for. After 8 years with the company, and various visits to smaller offices around the country, I'd never seen the mothership. So I was actually really psyched. And I always love going somewhere I've never been. I was supposed to go for two nights, do a presentation in the morning, and then have the rest of the day to explore the vast campus where my paychecks are born and meet some of the people that help me earn that paycheck. However, in the typical fashion that is flying out of Portland, canceled flights relegated me to actually being there for about 20 hours. Factor in 7 for sleeping and 3 for presenting - and that left me with about 10 to work, eat, explore and schmooze. Travel is great fodder for the beer blog. You see all kinds of things that are foreign to your own backyard environment.

The first funny took place right on my home turf, at the airport. But airports are like neutral soil or something. Kind of like being on a cruise ship on the high seas - anything goes - neutral jurisdiction. So I'm at the Portland International Jetport (yes, it will fly you to Canada on occasion, probably w/ a connection or two). After standing in line for over an hour at the USAir ticket counter (there were only 2 people in front of me when I got there, and there were still 2 people in front of me an hour later), I got to the counter and realized what was going on. Flights up through the northeast corridor were being canceled due to thunderstorms. The one and a half (the second guy just didn't seem to be fully capable) USAir folks were apparently busy still trying to get the travelers from the day before on some crazy concoction of flights to get them home a day late. So there were 2 parties being helped that entire hour while the rest of us waited to find out that our flights were getting canceled. I imagine they knew that fact, which is why they didn't communicate with us as our flight times were closing in. God forbid they flash that information on the plasma above the counter. I had to figure out what to do. So I went to the bar to mull it over and wait for my company to tell me if they still wanted me to get there at noon the next day or not. Aside from the shower, it's where I do my best thinking. One huge perk to being stuck in the Portland International Jetport is that the Bar is basically a Shipyard tap room. One of the 500 reasons that I'm really glad I live here. I ordered an Old Thumper Extra Special Ale and pretended like I had something important to do on my laptop. Someone at a table across the room apparently ordered a black and tan. I saw the bartender and the waitress discussing kind of confusedly. She went back to the table and then came back to the bar and said to the bartender - "he says it's stout and pale ale mixed together". So the guy shrugs his shoulders and proceeds to fill a glass half full with Bluefin Stout (first) and then blasts some Shipyard Export into it - creating a foamy, mixed up mess. I think he thought he was making a milkshake. He might have even put some Reese's Pieces in it when I wasn't looking, I'm not sure. He waited for the vinegar-in-the-baking-soda-childhood-volcano-science-project- thing to end and then gave it to her to serve. (For those of you who need ten fingers here, a black and tan is supposed to be layered, the ale goes in first, and then the stout gets poured gently on top and actually floats on top of the ale due to their differing specific gravities). So, I waited a couple of minutes and then gave a slightly annoyed shake of my head, just in case black and tan guy was looking, so he would know someone else in the room was sympathetic. Shipyard might want to consider sending this guy over to their mothership for some basic training.

The reason I'm boring you with the travel story (if you're not bored at this point, I'm hosting a forum tomorrow to delve a little deeper into the psychological trauma experienced by Paris Hilton while incarcerated - do come - and yes, there's apparently more room for injury there) - is that the next night after finally arriving in Dayton, I broke one of my Beer Drinker's Ten Commandments. And I broke #1. On my stone tablet, it reads Thou shalt not drink Anheuser-Busch products - right at the top of tablet one, in Charlton Heston's right hand. I had a funny feeling in my stomach (besides at take off and landing, and right before my presentation) that Dayton would not be the land of milk & honey when it came to beer selection. A beer Sonoran Desert, if you will. I have no doubt that if I had time to dig, I could have uncovered some local gems. I always do. It is a good sized college town, and nearly every place has a craft beer or two these days. But it's definitely one of those places where auto racing and Budweiser are at the cultural forefront. The hotel I was staying in had Bud and Bud Light on tap. Geez, thanks for the selection. I was waiting for an employee to ask me what I felt like tonight so I could be a wise arse about the tough decision. But I digress. I met some great people that night from my company who were also staying at that hotel. It was a pleasure to sit poolside with them, talk about where we were from and our experiences and expectations - all over a handful of Bud Lights. In plastic cups nonetheless. As it should be.

So, I felt a compelling need to tell a funny tale or two from my travels - and to come clean with my constituents in Maine (if I have any left at this point). After so many blog references ripping on drinking AB products, I had a dirty little night in Dayton, OH where I broke all the rules. I couldn't just subscribe to 'What happens in Dayton, stays in Dayton'. No way. I wanted to rid myself of this burden and put honesty at the forefront of our relationship. And the great thing about ANY religion (before the devout in the crowd get all worked up here, I'm musing about pretending that beer is a religion for me. It's a joke.) is it's propensity for and willingness to allow for forgiveness when you've done wrong (see - any prison chapel). I feel that my faith will get me back on the right path. Maybe I utter a few Hail Gritty's or something.

Stay cool this week and refer back to the posting before last - "Top 10 Hot Weather brews" for your heat wave refreshment.

Salud,

Scott Dutton

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