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Busy day today. First I had to haul Tops’ Fantasy Football Trophy to the freight company for its trip to Alaska. Apparently he’s starting a collection, with this being his 2^nd. Seems that after receiving the last one, they wouldn’t deliver mail to him anymore, so he’s had to contract delivery out to a private company. Hope they’ve got a big crane or know how to sling a helicopter rig.

Those not interested in boring home-brewing stuff can stop reading here…

After a brief interlude for that 4-letter word I like to refer to as “WORK”, I arrived home to find that my new Stout had finished fermenting, and was ready to be kegged. Space being at a premium (my daughter and I had made Ginger Ale over the weekend), I had to finish the last of the Witbier to make room for it (I’d actually planned this, as there were only a few pints of the Wit left anyway). Armed with my new toys, a proper Racking Cane and the correct sized hosing (last time I accidentally used the 3/16 stuff, and it took a half hour to transfer 5 gallons of beer from the fermenter to the keg, with me holding the hose in the fermenter the whole time). This time I kicked back and enjoyed the last of the Wit while the beer and the laws of physics did all the work.

The stuff came in today for a nice Irish Red, and it was about all I could do to keep myself from brewing it up so there’d be something to keep the newly empty fermenter from being lonely. Strangely enough, cleaning out the dregs of yeast (trub) from the bottom of the fermenter reminded me of hot late August mornings at the Sig house after a rush party, as countless half-drunken beers slowly eroded the Tasty-Freeze cups they were served in.

Sometime this week, the Kegerator should have its 3^rd line hooked up and pouring. I’ve picked up an extra quick disconnect so I can hook up a picnic hose for those times when I don’t feel like hooking up the entire tap tower. The end of the beer lines (with quick disconnects) are now on the outside of the Kegerator, which also has a new distribution block with individual shutoffs for the CO2, as I finally got around to drilling the hole in the side, praying that I wouldn’t hit a Freon line (still cold inside, so it seems I didn’t). Once I hook up the 3^rd set of keg connectors, the Kegerator part of the operation is complete.

The mobile base for the imported ceramic tap tower is coming along nicely. I had it just about finished, but decided it was too big (24” x 16”), and I’d never find anything it’d fit on when it wasn’t in the gazebo or in the dining room, so I had to re-engineer it a bit (now it’s 16” x 14”). This left some less than perfect edges, so I decided to trim around the top with some oak corner molding (which has the added benefit of holding the drip tray nicely in place), and around the bottom some shoe molding (adding a little extra stability, and counterpointing the trim on the top edge). Despite having a nice compound miter saw in the basement, I cut the trim with an old back saw and miter box. I’ll need to do a bit of finish sanding to get the edges perfect, and on they go! Then it’s time for staining and finishing.

Recently, the PCN Bank Arts Center has recently banned alcohol from their parking lots, supposedly because too much underage drinking was going on. This came to a head when two people (neither of which were underaged) died during a recent concert. Banning alcohol from the parking lots (ie, tailgating) does absolutely nothing to address this, and actually creates a much greater and more dangerous problem. The venue continues to sell alcohol on its premises, at ridiculously inflated prices ($8.00 for a beer), and all this does is eliminate competition for the venue’s own alcohol sales. If they were serious, they’d stop selling alcohol all together, but as that probably represents one of the largest profit-making parts of their operation, you won’t see that happen.

Instead of drinking at the venue’s parking lots, many are meeting at parkway rest areas, local parks and other areas to drink prior to the concerts. Not only are these locations totally unsupervised (compared to the venue’s parking lots, which is supervised by the NJ State Police), but it also puts large number of potentially drunken drivers on the road, driving from these new tailgate locations to the venue. Isn’t it better if these people are going to drink (and they are) to have them do so in a safe and secure location?

The underage problem can easily be addressed the way it is at most venues. Set up a location in each parking lot (there are 2 satellite lots at PNC in addition to the main lot) where patrons can go, have their ID checked, and be issued wristbands, which are affixed to them at that time. Then, the State Police have a much easier time patrolling for underaged drinking. No wristband, and you’ve got a drink, you get checked out. You’ve got a wristband, and you’re not causing any problems, no problem. Obviously anyone acting drunk and disorderly, no matter what their age, should be arrested.

This wouldn’t even cost the Turnpike Authority (the operators of the venue) any money. The wristbands can be (and are at many other venues) provided by the beer distributors and/or other event sponsors. I’m sure an organization such as MADD would provide staffing for the booths handing out the wristbands, as they should be eager to help prevent underaged drinking. Wristbanded patrons will also make it much easier for the venue’s own beer sales staff to sell only to those who’re of legal drinking age.

As it is, they’re simply punishing innocent people for the actions of a small minority. I purchased tickets to a concert at a venue where tailgating was permitted. Now it isn’t. Shouldn’t the venue refund my money? Obviously, as they’ve changed their policies which directly affect my enjoyment of their facility, and in a negative fashion, they should be liable for a full refund of all my costs to acquire tickets to the show at their venue. Either that, or they should allow the show to go on as originally advertised, and only prohibit tailgating at those shows for which tickets have not previously been sold.

I’m thinking that somewhere in there is something which represents a breach of contract. Even prohibiting drinking in the parking lots may not actually be legal (to this point, no one of drinking age has actually been ticketed). Supposedly the ticket will not be for drinking, but for “failure to follow signage”. Now, what if that signage isn’t legally enforceable (remember, alcohol IS legal at the venue, as is drinking it on premesis if you’re of legal age)? Do you have any legal obligation to obey signage that isn’t legally enforceable? I think not, and I think that’s why nobody is getting any tickets, unless they’re breaking some other law (such as drinking underage).

At the end of last summer, my mother wrecked her car coming home from my cousin’s wedding. We had to take our oldest girl, Desiree, who was riding with her, to the hospital to be checked out. While we were there, our youngest, Heather, was delighted by the large fish tank in the hospital waiting room, so, of course, we had to get some fish ourselves.

I’d actually wanted to get some for a while, but this was as good a time as any. We picked out a 10 gallon starter tank, filter, etc. at Wal-Mart, and along with 3 goldfish (2 gold fan-tails and one calico comet) from the same source, we went home to set it up.

Everything went fine for a few days, then it looked like the 2 fantails had gotten into a fight or something, as their fins were damaged. A day later, one became a floater. Acting quickly, before our 4 year old noticed anyone was missing, I picked up a replacement at Petsmart, and also a nice white fantail with a red spot on its head.

Shortly afterwards, the other gold fantail went the way of its original brethren. This time our 4 year old noticed, but I told her the fish was sick, and I’d have to take it to the fish doctor. Back to Petsmart, another gold fantail, and I also picked up a black moore as well. About a week later, the black moore started acting funny and not eating, so I isolated him for a few days, and his appetite picked up again, However, after rejoining the community, it was only a matter of a few days before he too was a floater. Unfortunately, Petsmart didn’t have any more (either there was a big run on them, or all of theirs got sick and died as well, as they had over a dozen in the tank when I bought mine). Off to the “fish doctor” it went. A few days later I managed to get a replacment at the Petsmart in Eatontown, and since then, everyone has lived happily ever after.

Over the last year, the fish have grown quite a bit, and were much too large for their original 10 gallon tank. I finally found a good deal for a 26 gallon bowfront on craigslist, complete with filter, light, top and several other accessories, so yesterday it was time for the fish to move.

First, I had to take all the gravel out of the old tank, as I wanted to clean and re-use it in the new one. Of course, there was all sorts of junk down in the gravel that the vacuum doesn’t get out, so by the time the gravel was gone, the old tank was a horrible murky mess. As most of the junk was actually food, the fish probably enjoyed this, but it didn’t look good.

I put down all the air hose and bubblers in the new tank, then the old gravel mixed with another 25 lb. bag, and added in the old decorations as well as some of the ones I got with the new tank. It took a LOT more water than the old one did (the dish is in there so the gravel doesn’t get disturbed when the water is poured in).

Finally, I added some of the water from the old tank (despite it looking horrible, it contained necessary bacteria which helps break down the fish’s waste. It’d take at least a week for such bacteria to grow on their own without the old water). Then it was time for the fish to move (they didn’t really like that part). However, they seem much happier in their new home, with much more room to swim around, and more things to play with.

Part of my childhood died today. Hall of famer, Yankee legend Phil Rizzuto has passed away at the age of 89. While I’m much too young to ever have witnessed the amazing feats credited to him on the ballfield, his announcing, both on radio and TV, was part of my life from the 70’s until he retired in 1996.

Watching (or listening) to a game called by Rizzuto was like watching a game with your Grandfather, rather than just one called by an announcer. He added a personal touch, and really made the listener feel they were part of the proceedings. Whether it was taking a break in the commentary to offer birthday greetings to a listener, to update everyone on his latest visits to his grandkids, or to talk about some cannoli’s that someone had brought by the broadcast booth for him, he provided a direct connection between himself and the audience which no other announcer could ever match.

Even his miscues were legendary. Ever the Yankee fan, every long fly ball had a shot at going out of the park, and his sadness when it didn’t matched your own. “Oh, Holy Cow, that’ ones outta here. No, wait, he caught it at the warning track. Can you believe that? I thought for sure it was gone”. Once broadcasting partner Bill White noticed an annotation on Scooter’s scorecard that he didn’t recognize. “Hey, Scooter, what’s that “WW” for?” “Oh, that means I wasn’t watching” was Rizzuto’s unabashed response.

Ever a humble, unassuming man, that was part of his charm. He would greet a stranger on the street with the same warmth he would a longtime colleague. His frequent recollections and anecdotes of his playing days with the Yankees that he peppered his commentary with made you feel you had a connection not just with the team you were watching on the field, but with all the long and proud Yankee history, especially important because for many of those years, the teams on the field simply weren’t that good. Yet Phil, like all fans, believed deep down that somehow they’d pull out a win every day. And, like all fans, he’d be disappointed if they didn’t. He shared himself and his emotions with his listeners as if we were all part of a large, extended family.

I suppose that was his greatest gift, above any of his performances on the baseball field; the ability to turn hundreds of thousands of people who he never actually met into what felt like close friends, if even for just a few hours a day. And I suppose that’s why so many of us are so saddened by his passing. Goodbye, Scooter, you entered our homes and our hearts, and you will be missed greatly.

Like a recurring nightmare or bad toothache, the Van Halen family picnic has once again reared its ugly head. Fresh out of rehab, apparently Eddie is ready to hit the road once more, probably literally and figuratively. Still touting Jaba-the-hut wannabe Wolfgang Van Halen on bass instead of actual bass player Michael Anthony, the only member of this sad entourage who can’t give Eddie a blood transfusion will be the ever-popular(?) David Lee Roth, who hasn’t performed with the band since, well, 1984.

Despite being the band’s bass player on every album it ever released, apparently Anthony is still persona-non-grata with Eddie, I guess because he actually wanted to go out and play music while Eddie wanted to wallow in a puddle of drunken self-indulgence. Does anybody else think this thing has a volatility level just somewhere above Mr. Creosote? Just one “wafer thin mint” and Eddie and Dave will be at each other’s throats, while Wolfie tries to eat half the audience. Sorry, but this is shaping up to be more like a bad reality TV show than a concert tour.

Supposedly Wolfie has picked out his favorite 24 songs (I guess from VH’s first 6 albums, as Dave doesn’t have any rights to anything after that). Apparently Eddie’s brain still isn’t right after all that booze, if he’s letting a teenager pick out songs written and performed long before his birth, as well as replace an established and talented musician in the band. Get the kid a garage, an amp, and some friends, don’t drag him out on tour to blow any illusions he might still harbor that his dad might be a decent human being.

Of course, the questions remain 1) Do they actually have 24 songs on those 6 albums worth playing in concert (”Big Bad Billy is Sweet William now”? As popular as 1984 was, it gets a little thin on concert material after “Jump”, “Panama” and “Hot for Teacher”) and 2) Can these rollicking bags of ego and fun get through a complete 24 song set night after night? I’m betting “no”.

Of course, what sort of Blog would be complete if I didn’t put together my own set list to compete with Wolfie’s, having actually been there and heard the music. In no particular order (well, actually, from 1st album to 6th): “Runnin’ with the Devil”, “Eruption” (does this actually count as a song?), “Ain’t talkin’ bout love”, “Jamie’s Cryin’”, “Feel your love tonight”, “Ice Cream Man” (Little dreamer or Atomic Punk would work as well, but let’s leave room for some stuff from their other albums), “Dance the night away”, “D. O. A.”, “Beautiful Girls”, “And the cradle will rock”, “Everybody wants some”, “Mean Street”, “Push Comes to Shove”, “So this is love”, “Where have all the good times gone” (by the end of the tour, won’t this become poignant?), “Pretty Woman”, “Dancing in the Streets”, “Little Guitars”,  “Happy Trails” (to end the show), “Panama”, “Jump”, “Hot for Teacher”. Hmm…, 22, maybe we’ll throw “Little Dreamer” and “Atomic Punk” back into the mix after all.