Beermas Vs. Easter 2009

I'm no longer religious.

Very much so, but I am spiritual, so I celebrate Beermas.

Often.

And I drink not to make women more beautiful.

I drink to improve my looks.

Oh, you dog.

Beermas Vs. Easter

I'm no longer religious, but I am spiritual, so I celebrate Beermas.

Often.

And I don't drink to make women more beautiful.

I drink to improve my looks.

Oh, you dog.

The Longest Night

Stonehenge has endured time. This morning the sun rose in the east. Light passed through the massive portals to cast a path marking the winter solstice. Beer and mead were ready for drinking after the season of fermentation. Both were served as food through the winter. I have always called the Winter Solstice the holy day Beermas.

I celebrated it often during the cold months.

Modern historians paint a bleak portrait of the Bronze Age.

The time after Meán Geimhridh was known as the famine months.

Neanderthals and Cro-magnons survived the annual starvations, but thanks to the fermentation of beer.

This morning I woke this morning to the sun rising over Brooklyn.

The light was gold on the tall buildings to the west.

The flash of dawn honored the time and the day.

Four years ago I drank beer and Irish Whiskey with friends.

I drank Irish whiskey.

It was a good beermas, but now there is no beer for Sean Coll and I will read through the longest night.

Brionglóid milis or sweet dreams.

Happy Stiffmas - BET ON CRAZY

In December of 2009 the jewelers on 47th Street were counting on a big buying spree to recoup from the Great Recession, however the nation's zombie economy had exiled the masses from luxury purchases gold and diamonds. Only the rich had money and Richie Boy had more than his share of the upper class. One customer bought a yellow diamond ring for a quarter of a million. The invesstment naker earned that much per day. Another Wall Street iinvestor dropped a half-million on a Burma ruby. Several other financiers purchased collection-grade diamonds as hedge against another economic collapse.

After setting up the window for the day I went outside Manny's store and cleaned the front window.

"Damian, you have a dollar?" whined Lenny the overweight Hassidic bum.

"Always for you."

Many people on the street considered Lenny a Kadokhes or a worthless person, but he always wished me luck, which I desperately needed, since I hadn't closed a sale all week.

I hope you have a good season."

"Every year is worse. None of the hoi polloi are buying."

"Rich people, feh. All they do is push money back and forth taking a little here and a little there. They produce nothing of value and neither does America." Lenny slapped a greasy hand on the window. Each time imprinting a palm. Richie Boy waved for Lenny to piss off. Lenny turned to me and said, "Why is Richie Boy such a cheap prick? He never gives me nothing. The Jews are so mean to the Jews."

"Lenny, if you stopped cursing him out of the street, he might give you something." I handed the fat slob a dollar. He was getting old. His winter wardrobe was torn coat, a soiled tee-shirt, stained trousers and battered yamulka.

"No, he never gives. Does he treat you alright?"

"Alright enough." I hadn't received a raise in two years. Manny, Richie Boy's father, nickel and dimed my commish for every sale. Still I was able to feed my two families in Thailand and no one was hiring a man my age. I was the only 58 year-old on the subway in the morning. Everyone else was either retired or on unemployment.

"You take care, Damian." Lenny waddled down the sidewalk bemoaning the loss of the middle class. The gap between rich and poor was hurting his business too. I returned inside and helped Richie Boy finish with a Burma sapphire sale.

$150,000 from a Tech entrepeneur.

They were still earning good money.

After writing up the bill Manny came to the counter and said, "I don't know why you give Lenny money."

Manny hated anyone who didn't work and that sometimes included me, since I never showed up to work on time.

"He makes me laugh." Chronic tardiness was my way of rebelling against incessant badgering. He was a prick, but I was inured to his abuse.

"A fucking Trombenick."

Manny's father had worked every day since he was 12. Jake was run over by a truck on Canal Street running an errand for Manny. The accident didn't kill him, but the doctors gave him a deadly infection. He went to his grave three days after visiting the hospital.

"He might be a ne'er-do-well, but he is still very funny and he isn't stupid."

Everyone said that he used the coins and dollar bills that he reaped from 47th Street to finance his online trade. The slovenly bum was rumored to be worth millions. I had seen him on the streets late a night.He hated sleeping in the shelters. He was not a rich man.

Throughout the morning Richie churned out sales. I could barely keep up with him. His phone never left his ear.

"When are you going to make a sale," Manny asked fromk his desk.

"Leave him alone. Our low-end client base is gone." Richie Boy explained to his father

"Teh goys spent too much money at Kmart. Serves them right for buying all that crap from China."

"It's all they can afford after you rich bitches sucked them dry," I muttered under my breath. Richie Boy caught some of it. He had good hearing. A glare warned to keep my antpathy for the rich to myself. Free speech was a luxury only the rich could afford on 47th Street.

Dealers kept showing up at the store for payment of old debts. Manny never ran from them, but paid off these debts slowly. Richie's big sapphire sale saved the firm, but after giving a setter $2000, Manny said, "I don't know how I'm going to get salary this week."

This comment was probably to himself, I suspected that the eight-year old had said this to prepare me for his not giving his working staff their Xmas bonus. He had done it before and I feared that he was getting ready to do so again.

I mentioned this possibility to Deisy. She shook her head.

"I work six days a week and this is the thanks I get."

"It's not sure." Only 90%.

"Yes," Deisy sighed with an accent. She came from Brazil. "But he only gave me one raise in three years. Always the same thing. I wish I could do something but it was a bad year."

"You want to make a bet that we get something?"

"No." Deisy was a Born-again Christian. She believed in the goodness of man, but mumbled a Santeria curse aimed at Manny.

"Don't be like that." As a non-believer I worried about curses. They were almost as real as Santa Claus.

Two evenings ago we had held our annual Xmas dinner.

$50 a head.

25 people.

Richie Boy's partner had given gave Deisy and me $200. Manny had handed us a cheap scarf and good glove. I had left them at the table. Karl had chased me down the sidewalk, "You forgot your gifts."

"No, I didn't." I was pissed. Richie Boy and Manny. Cheap bastards. "Thank you for your gift, but I don't need anything from those two scrooges. Another Merry Stiffmas."

"They didn't give anything?" Karl was a little crazy at work, but the diamond broker had a good heart.

"Not a pfennig."

Karl insisted on my taking the gifts. They would be nice to re-gift. I rode a taxi home and had a beer at Frank's Lounge. Everyone there was happy to see me. The bartender bought me a drink. We toasted ourselves. None of us were rich and in some ways I was happier that the rich owed me nothing and me nothing in return.

Happy Beermas one and all

I hope none of you get coal in your stockings.

It's all the rich want to give.

Drunkenfreude

Last year Susan Cheever entered the ranks of prohibitionism with her entry in the NY Times DRUNKENFREUDE. Her glib mangling of the classic German term 'schadenfreude' meaning taking joy in the misery of others opened with a 10 year-old tale of a woman's heavy drinking at a Christmas party then shifted into an observation that New Yorkers no longer got drunk at festive gatherings.

While heavy drinking was sometimes a sign of alcoholism, it was often an indication of heavy drinking leading to more heavy drinking in a time where nothing really matters.

Not your job, your life, and certainly not what any writer in a newspaper or blog have to opine about the issue of inebriation.

Several years ago at the retail basement of the Plaza Hotel I was running a jewelry store for Richie Boy. The place was a disaster. The Israeli managers played one CD of Modern Lounge Music.

From opening to closing like this space felt like a training ground for Shin Bet interrogators.

One night the two Turkish-Austrian managers of the exquisite patisserie Viennese Demels, and I were drinking Tyrolian wine in the store. My friend Richie Boy scolded my drinking, but only because he wanted something left for the other guests.

When they didn't show to our little gathering, we finished of the rest of the wine without giving any to Richie Boy.

My longtime friend was a complete buzzkill.

After quaffing the last glass I went to dinner upstairs at the Oak Room at the Plaza. I got home at 10:30 and fell into bed with GHOST TOTEM, a novel about Chinese dissidents trapped in Inner Mongolia during the Cultural Revolution. The book lasted about two pages before falling onto my face, but I awoke refreshed by a good nine hours sleep.

So am I an alcoholic or just a drinker?

I claim to be the latter, while recognizing the approach of the former at times.

At least my drinking hadn't interfered with my job as a diamantaire, mostly because there had been no sales that holiday season.

None.

So what me worry whether Susan Cheever doesn't think it's attractive to get drunk.

She's probably only attractive when I'm drunk.

I checked Google to make sure.

She was at least five drinks from being attractive, but then she was smart and intelligence always lasted longer than beauty and I guess that I shouldn't be so hard on her being a non-drinker, but let's face it the real reason she hasn't seen anyone drunk was that no one drinking liked a preacher.

So happy Beermas to all my friends.Let everyone else drink tea.

ps the beer in Fenway's stroller is empty.

To read DRUNKENFREUDE by Susan Cheever, please go to this URL

http://proof.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/12/15/drunkenfreude/

She is stone cold sober.

Gym Rats Versus Beermas

Back in the 80s Gold's Gym had a ground floor gym off of Astor Place. Scores of fitness enthusiasts ran on treadmills and lifted weights visible to passers-by through large windows. My friend and I played basketball in Tompkins Square Park. 3 hours a day. Afterwards we like nothing better than to get our lawn chairs and sit before the gym windows to watched the gym rats, as we ate pizza from Stromboli's washed down by cold beer.

Ah, now that was a work-out.

Holy Beermas forever.

The God Of Beermas

Several years back one of the guards at the diamond exchange was drinking on the job. Joe had a Bud for breakfast. He drank another two on his coffee break. His lunch consisted of six beers. According to his calculation Joe consumed 15-16 beers during the course of a day. Finally his doctor advised Joe to cut down of his beers.

"I'm not stopping nothing." Joe was stubborn and ignored the warning, as his belly bloated to an enormous size.

On his next check-up the doctor informed him that his distended stomach was from the beer carbonation seeping through his stomach lining into his body. The only remedy was a complete cessation of beer and soda and Joe bemoaned his fall from grace.

“Even after the four week abstinence I won’t be able to drink beer. Not like a man is supposed to drink beer.”

I commiserated with my friend, because I’m a lightweight in my old age.

I have no more 20-beer nights.

These days five beers are too many, although I can put down ten when the thirst is on me.

Neither Joe nor I were world-class drinkers like Andre the Giant who drank enough for 30 men according to this piece from Wikpedia.

“He has been unofficially crowned “The Greatest Drunk on Earth” for once consuming 119 12-ounce beers in 6 hours. On an episode of WWE’s Legends of Wrestling, Mike Graham claimed that André once drank 197 16-ounce beers in one sitting, which was confirmed by Dusty Rhodes. In her autobiography, The Fabulous Moolah alleges that André drank 327 beers and passed out in a hotel bar in Reading, Pennsylvania, and because the staff could not move him, they had to leave him there until he regained consciousness.”

327 beers.

I’d died after drinking a 10th of his epic feat.

Andre the Giant would rise from the ashes of his hangover and drink as if there had been no yesterday.

My next beer is to him.

The God of Beermas and his ghost wants his beers during this Oktoberfest, so lift your beers to the Giant.

To hear tales of his drinking please go to this URL

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Kwyb65J_d4

Pagan Winter Solstice

2008

Today will be the winter solstice.

The shortest day of the year.

On December 21th I will wake at dawn and climb onto the roof of the Fort Green Observatory to bathe in the distant sun's light. The frost on my skin will the only human sacrifice within sight. After 30 seconds I will retreated to my bed and shivered myself to sleep for another half-hour before heading into Manhattan to work in the Diamond District.

Few people in the modern age and even fewer Christian realize that Christmas was lifted from the ancient pagans celebration of the winter solstice as the rebirth of the sun. This last chance to feast before the months of winter starvation coincided with the final stages of fermentation of wine and beer.

My friend the ex-model from Paris abhors Christmas as an orgy festival. Brigitte is a devout fundamentalist. The Bible is fact and she recently wrote on Facebook.

"Christmas is a disgusting pagan holiday that comes from Roman orgies where they would choose a scapegoat torture them by forcing them to eat and indulge in all sorts of excess and then brutally murder them."

She later added, "Some of the most depraved customs of the Saturnalia carnival were intentionally revived by the Catholic Church in 1466 when Pope Paul II, for the amusement of his Roman citizens, forced Jews to race naked through the streets of the city. An eyewitness account reported before they were to run, the Jews were richly fed, so as to make the race more difficult for them and at the same time more amusing for spectators."

Sounds like a good time had by all.

So happy solstice one and all.

I'll be drinking me some beer and not a little either.

Beer Heaven

The Hour Of The 13th Baktun

A little more than three days remain until the end of the 12th Mayan Baktun, which began on August 11th, 3114 BC. Supposedly the Egyptians invented written language on that date. The rest of the Neolithic world was recovering from the ravages of the Great Ice Age. Agriculture wouldn't revive in Northern Africa for more than a hundred years about the same time as the foundation of Troy and Caral the first city in the Americas. Stonehenge had yet to be built by the Celts, but beer had existed since 9500 BC as the first stepping stone of civilization. Billions of people have lived since then. The supposed approach of doomsday on 12/21/12 had leadened the spirit of the world. A tenth of Americans are concerned whether they will survive the dawn. The mother of the Sandy Hook shooter was purportedly obsessed with the End of Times. The director of the Carl Sagan Center for the Study of Life in the Universe has declared that the entire apocalyptical prophesy has been a hoax foisted on mankind by the media. According to him there is no planet Nibiru in this galaxy, planet alignments have no effect on the Earth, and a magnetic polar shift occurs every million years and if it happened now north becoming the south would take centuries to complete. So I guess I'll drink beer on December 22. Heck, I'm drinking beer on December 17 and I will on December 18 too. Happy Beermas.

Lunar Twin Eclipse

There was a lunar eclipse of Gemini on 11-28-12. I was born under that celestial star. The full moon should have some effect on me. I drank with my good friend and landlord of the Fort Greene Observatory at Mo's and Mullane's on Lafayette Street. We had more than one beer each, so I experience not a full stomach of beer rather than the lunar eclipse. Happy Beermas. Mine was so good that I missed the following two days and I've moved off the beer to a Chilean Merlot. In vino veritas. In more wine oblivion.

Happy Beermas

Oktoberfest is a High Holiday month for beer-drinkers around the world.

Your attendance is obligatory.

Drink Beer and drink it often.

It's good for you.

If you have any difficulties, please refer to the above chart.

It's a life-saver.

PLease click on it to enlarge, if you don't have good eye sight.

Beer As the Cure

BEER TROUBLESHOOTING GUIDE

SYMPTOM Feet cold and wet
CAUSE Glass Being held at incorrect angle.
CORRECTIVE ACTION Rotate glass so that open end points toward ceiling

SYMPTOM Feet warm and wet
CAUSE Improper Bladder Contro
CORRECTIVE ACTION Stand next to nearest dog, complain about lack of house training

SYMPTOM Beer unusually pale and tasteless
CAUSE a. Glass empty b. You're holding a Coors Lite
CORRECTIVE ACTION Get someone to buy you another beer

SYMPTOM Opposite wall covered with fluorescent lights
CAUSE You have fallen over backward
CORRECTIVE ACTION Have yourself lashed to bar

SYMPTOM Mouth contains cigarette butts, back of head covered with ashes
CAUSE You have fallen forward
CORRECTIVE ACTION See above

SYMPTOM Beer tasteless, front of your shirt is wet
CAUSE a. Mouth not open b. Glass applied to wrong part of face
CORRECTIVE ACTION Retire to restroom, practice in mirror

SYMPTOM Floor Blurred
CAUSE You are looking through bottom of empty glass
CORRECTIVE ACTION Get someone to buy you another beer

SYMPTOM Floor moving
CAUSE You are being carried out
CORRECTIVE ACTION Find out if you are being taken to another bar

SYMPTOM Room seems unusually dark
CAUSE Bar has closed
CORRECTIVE ACTION Confirm home address with bartender. If staff is gone, grab a six-pack to go and hit the nearest fire escape door. Run

SYMPTOM Taxi suddenly takes on colorful aspect and textures
CAUSE Beer consumption has exceeded personal limitations
CORRECTIVE ACTION Cover mouth, open window, stick head outside

SYMPTOM Everyone looks up to you and smiles
CAUSE You are dancing on the table
CORRECTIVE ACTION Fall on someone cushy-looking

SYMPTOM Beer is crystal-clear
CAUSE It's water! Somebody is trying to sober you up
CORRECTIVE ACTION Punch him

SYMPTOM People are standing around urinals, talking or putting on makeup
CAUSE You're in the ladies room
CORRECTIVE ACTION Do not use urinal! Excuse yourself, exit and try the next door down the hall. Try to get phone numbers (optional)

SYMPTOM Hands hurt, nose hurts, mind unusually clear
CAUSE You have been in a fight
CORRECTIVE ACTION Apologize to everyone you see, just in case it was them

SYMPTOM Don't recognize anyone, don't recognize the room you're in
CAUSE You've wandered into the wrong party
CORRECTIVE ACTION See if they have free beer

SYMPTOM Your bedroom is painted gray, has a concrete floor and an interesting steel door. Toilet may be conveniently located next to your bunk
CAUSE a. You're in jail b. You're in the navy
CORRECTIVE ACTION Sleep it off, you can always get out tomorrow. Don't talk to your new roommate, and under no circumstances sleep on your stomach

SYMPTOM Your singing sounds distorted
CAUSE The beer is too weak
CORRECTIVE ACTION Have more beer until your voice improves

SYMPTOM Don't remember the words to the song
CAUSE Beer is just right
CORRECTIVE ACTION Play air guitar

The Ghost Of Andre The Giant

According to friends Andre the Giant once drank 156 beers at a sitting. No one can substantiate this feat, since his drinking companions fell by the wayside in the scores. His ghost wants his beers during this Oktoberfest, so lift your beers to the Giant. To hear tales of his drinking please go to this URL http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Kwyb65J_d4

Health Advice for Pattaya Farangs 2008 / Old School

Entering Pattaya on Sukhumvit it is hard not to notice the recent expansion of the Bangkok-Pattaya Hospital. This annex is being prepared for the expected arrival of retirees moving into the thousands of houses being constructed from Naklua to Jomtien. The proposed name of this extension appeals to the spiritual background of the patients.

Gra-dai teung sawan or Stairway to Heaven Wing.

I’ve spoke with several western doctors about the new project.

Most seemed to think that this new addition to the hospital will help the health of the Pattaya residents, although one doctor bucked the entire trend of health addicts and wrote up the following advice to the bar stool sitters of Pattaya.

HEALTH QUESTION AND ANSWER SESSION

Q: I’ve heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that’s it… don’t waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that’s like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can’t think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain…Good!

Q: Aren’t fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU’RE NOT LISTENING!!!… Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they’re permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It’s the best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! ‘Round’ is a shape!
The doctor ended this session with the following advice. I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets. And remember: “Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO HOO, What a Ride”