The Art of Practice and Social Dialogue

I’ve officially run out of things to write about. Ok maybe not, but I have been absent as of late, and this morning I decided to give some thought as to why that might be. I don’t want this site turning into just another blog posting about upcoming events. Luckily Marsh has picked up my slack lately with his excellent festival reviews. I have been busy with life and work and with reading “A Textbook of Brewing,” and “Yeast: The Practical Guide to Beer Fermentation.” Both books, by the way, are incredible resources, and if you don’t own them already, go out and get them asap. But, I can’t help but think that if I had a great tip on how to improve your homebrewing experience, I would have found the time to post about it. I have plateaued. To all those out there that will reach this point, or may be there now, don’t fret. I believe this is a good stage–a necessary barrier built to allow for time to sharpen our skills–to comprehend the knowledge we have acquired over the years. It is time to hit our numbers, chart temperatures, and measure parts per million. It is time to practice.

And what better way to practice than to invite over a good friend or friends to share in the act. A few weeks ago, Marsh flew in to town from New Mexico, and after two days of debaucery in San Francisco and Santa Rosa, we settled down for a full day of brewing in my garage. No matter what your skill level, in any disipline, it is always helpful to talk, teach, and discuss what you think you know with someone else. Nine times out of ten, you will realize that you might not know the subject as well as you thought, or you will discover holes in your knowledge. Marsh helped me hit my numbers, and we ended up brewing my personal highest gravity beer to date–a triple IPA (OG: 1.101). It was a hell of a time, filled with laughter, and interupted by beer tastings.

Of course, it doesn’t always have to be about learning. I mean, we are brewing beer right? What I have come to love most about homebrewing is the social aspect that comes with it. If you brew it, they will come. The social power of a quality beer is easily observed: Take seven people who don’t talk very much, without much in common, and give them each a beer. Within minutes, they will be discussing a broad range of topics with a smile on their face. This is probably what Obama had in mind with his beer summit. Beer: The Social Lubricant (as they say).

Some of these seduced beer discussions I’ve been having as of late revolve around the fact that technology is, in some ways, driving us further and further apart. We no longer have to interface in person to have a dialogue. There are copious amounts of gadgets and devices that “streamline” this process–give us access to more tidbits of discourse. It is as if we are all shouting our thoughts into the air, knowing that technology will serve as a thought net, pulling them down, arranging them in a short, readible fashion, and dispersing them across the networks, without ever seeing or speaking with the recipent. My hope, is that with the resurgence of all the great beer being served in numerious venues across the nation, there will be a default reemergence of this social face time. In a way, it is like how we Americans romanticize about the English and Irish Brew Pubs of old. I believe the next step in this beer revolution is to harness this power. Provide a service to get people to step away from technology for a few hours, and to have a conversation with random strangers (in person). Breweries should allow more access into the internals of the industry as well–more avenues for gaining hands on brewing experience as a consumer, and face time with brewers.

And to those that argue that I’m using technology to write this diatribe, I never said I’m against technology. I rely on it ever day, and work in the field to pay my bills. My point isn’t that we don’t need technology, it is rather we need to figure out a way to remain human while using it. What is to be human? Well that’s a discussion for another day over a good beer.