Driven to Drink

Driven to Drink

By Driven 2 DrinkSociety & CultureMusic
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Driven to Drink episodes

  • 66. Do Dogs Have Areola?

    Jen made what she believes, and I can’t argue, the most perfect drunk purchase she’s ever made.  She made it because simply couldn’t handle my shoe-wearing around the house combined with a confusing refusal to get slippers.  So, she ordered Keen slipper shoes for me.  They are wonderful and, indeed, perfect.  I don’t know how I walked around my house without them for so many years.

    Oh, and then there’s Bob’s old clothes.  My gym-friend, Bob, who also works for Nordstrom and has been in sales for many years, gave me a load of designer clothes that no longer fit him as well as 3 new scents.  I’d apparently been running around the house like a fashion-show model, changing outfits regularly.  During this podcast, I settled on a new jersey-knit hoodie, a suede shirt/jacket, cargo shorts, patterned socks, and the Keens.  Jen claims I’m Dapper AND comfy.  Domfy.

    Bob is my fragrance pimp, and I am his cologne ho.  I’m his ride or die bitch for life.  You feel me?  Know’m’sayin’, homie?

    But I digress.

    We began the evening with our old-faithfuls, Lagunitas Hop Stoopid (Jen) and Imperial Pils (Greg), and then continued forward with Dogfish Head 90 minute IPA (Jen, 9% abv) and Troegs Le Grave (Greg 8% abv).

    Topically, we span the following:

    • We love the new season of the Walking Dead.
    • We lament the learning of negative shit about iconic people who we’ve generally loved and held in high esteem.  (e.g. Jen learned more about Ghandi than she ever wanted to know.  I found out about Bob Marley’s parenting and husbanding challenges.)
    • Do dogs have areola?  (No, but the definition of areola is broader than perhaps you’d imagine.)
    • When will we have our animal communication session with Karen Anderson?

    Fun, huh?

    Yep.

    Anyway, we present to you, “Do Dogs Have Areola?”

    The closing music should bring you great joy.  Winter is coming.

    -G

     

    (Source: PandaWhale)

    25 min
  • 65. Fruitvale

    We’re back!

    This podcast was recorded a few weeks before the Oscars (in the midst of a diversity controversy that, just like any valid, nuanced controversy, became grist from the media-driven “culture war” mill rather than a topic for authentic dialogue and reconciliation) and immediately after having watched, “Fruitvale Station.”

    So…it’s kind of heavy.

    I really like this conversation.  It’s real, it’s gritty, it gets mildly heated, passions run…well my passions ran a bit high, and there’s plenty of humor and levity to balance the rest.

    We had a lovely “half and half” cocktail of sorts using Samuel Smith’s Organic Chocolate Stout, Lindemans Kriek, and Wigle Pomander Orange Bitters.  Uh…so much yum.

    Your musical selection for today?  “Bonita Applebaum” by the incomparable Tribe Called Quest.

    We present to you, “Fruitvale.”

     

     
    38 min
  • 63. #HipHopIsDead

    In this episode, we falsely claim that Troeg’s Brewing was acquired by one of the brewing world’s big guns, but this is not true. Not at all  Here’s the story.  This makes me incredibly happy, even though I wasn’t initially super stoked by the label-art redesigns.  They are beautiful, though. (If you’re ever in/near Hershey, it’s absolutely worth your time to stop at the brewery, eat at the exceptional and amazing “snack bar,” which is an understatement of epic proportions, and take the tour.)  Sometimes I’m a crotchety old traditionalist, though…particularly when it comes to big things that I used to know and love when they were considerably smaller.  So, Troeg’s.  We had Nugget Nectar tonight (7.5 ABV, 93ish IBU).  We did this post Lagunitas Hop Stoopid and Imperial Pils, which is becoming a bit of a tradition for us.  Get buzzed on the Lagunitas, hit record, and bring that buzz to a drunk with a new brew.

    So, what is the topic today?

    We talk about absurd Twitter battles (…I know, the word “absurd” is entirely unnecessary and is implied by the following two words…) and misinformed bro-beefs.

    First, B.o.B. versus Neil deGrasse Tyson regarding the following question: Is the world flat?

    Really.  It wasn’t a joke.  I mean, it’s a fucking joke…but it wasn’t to B.o.B. (His Twitter profile leads me to believe that he also believes the moon landing was faked.  Perhaps by Stanley Kubrick.  Yikes.)

    This is a real thing that just happened.  A fairly popular hip hop and pop music artist, that being B.o.B., claims that there is NOT irrefutable evidence that the earth is round; that, in fact, there is much conspiracy-theorist-nut-job-driven data pointing in the direction of human beliefs circa 300 BC.  An actual scientist and also popular culture icon, that being deGrasse Tyson, argued with him.  And the fall out includes several songs.  Here’s B.o.B.’s.  Here’sTyson’s.  I don’t know, maybe we should prepare for the Armageddon.

    Next, we try to interpret the Wiz Khalifa/Kanye West Twitter battle.  Think about that.  A friggin’ Twitter battle.  Not a physical fight.  Not a drive-by shooting.  Not even a verbal confrontation.  Just two dudes, presumably of average intelligence, arguing with each other over a social media platform.  About…really, it’s entirely unclear; or at least not worth any additional cognitive energy to explain here.  Is this what we’ve become?  When hip-hop hatred needs to be modified and telegraphed to fit the character constraints of an application?  I guess.

    And through this entire thing, Jen ends up becoming a fan of B.o.B.’s flow and the producers with whom he works.

    Here we go…presenting to you, “#HipHopisDead.”

    Oh, the music!  At the beginning, “Blues Music” by G Love and Special Sauce.  At the end, “Hip Hop is Dead,” by Nas.  And just below, the iconic image of the iconic Notorious B.I.G.

     

        B-I-G…P-O…P…P-A
    43 min
  • 62. Note to Drink: #infomagical

    Good morning, pleasant Saturday, and Happy Valentine’s Day.

    We’ve got a lovely podcast for you that aligns with the, “Thank you, #infomagical,” post from Wednesday.

    As you may know, I discovered the podcast, “Note to Self,” in the midst of their #infomagical challenge week.  I did it, and it was exceptionally helpful for me from several perspectives including mindfulness, relationships, anxiety, and worry.  Specifically, and respectively: more, better, minimal, and negligible.

    So, Jen and sat with beer.  She with Fat Head’s Head Hunter IPA (ABV: 7.5/IBU: 87), which likely sits upon the Mt. Rushmore of American IPAs…even with all of the wonderfulness from the west coast; and I with a gifted Dogfish Head Higher Math (ABV: 17/ IBU: 35) which is literally like drinking 3-4 regular beers.  Notably, this is the first time I’ve had a huge beer and actually enjoyed it from first to final sip…so Huzzah! to the brewers in Delaware.

    And, we discussed our experiences with Infomagical.

    At the very end, there’s a lovely little musical foundation what will excite many of my several (…is that possible?…) 40+ year old listeners.

    I present to you, “Note to Drink: #infomagical.”

      She brought all my dreams alive. (For me.)
    41 min
  • 61. Alone Again, Drunkenly

    Jen went to Erie.

    Greg stayed home with the dog, the cats, and the tortoise that hasn’t eaten in a few days. (Let me go do that right now.)

    …

    Okay, now the tortoise ate.  (Have you ever closely observed a tortoise eating?  It’s fascinating.  The beak, the noises, the oily black eyes that somehow convey judgement and emotion.)

    I decided to record a solo podcast last night. I don’t entirely remember what I said, and I haven’t listened to myself yet…so we’ll be on a tandem journey. What…did Greg have to say?!

    I do have notes, which I apparently wrote down at some point. They go like this:

    1. Drunk Aversion
    2. Louie C.K. Show
    3. Drinks: Wigle Manhattan in an Arsenal Cider House tasting glass. Sierra Nevada Hop Hunter IPA (6.2), Sierra Nevada 5 Hop Experimental IPA (5.8)

    So yeah.  I believe the first is related to the fact that I’ve had an interesting relationship with alcohol and the buzzed feeling of the second drink since my monumental hangover last Sunday.  The second, “Horace and Pete,” which is a brilliant, wonderful, amazing, soulful on-line play/show that Louie C.K. created and then put out for $5.  You should do it.  And the last thing, well…that’s obviously what I drank.

    I know I’ve got, “Alone Again, Naturally” by Gilbert O’Sullivan at the beginning and the song that’s been stuck in my head all day, “Locomotive Breath,” by Jethro Tull, at the end.

    This should be fun.  A choose-your-own-adventure.  Together.  Let’s see what the hell I said!

    I present to you, “Alone Again, Drunkenly.”

      I’m Kunk Drunkle.
    26 min
  • 60. Sloppy Snape and Sad Sex

    Tonight’s the night we’ll make history.
    Honey, Jen and I.
    ’cause we’ll, by any means, give you a pleasant time,
    and stay with you here tonight…

    …except I drank a glass of Lagunitas Hop Stoopid (9% abv West Coast IPA), 2 bottles of Founders Backwoods Bastard (11.6% abv bourbon barrel aged ale), and a cup of Nighttime Theraflu (100% guarantee of a slow sleepy slide into cognitive-linguistic oblivion, unless you sneeze like Gary.  Or Jen. AHHHHH….HEEEEYYYYYYYY!)…

    …so…

    …a gathering of Angels appeared above my head.
    They sang to me this song of hope and this is what they said:
    They said, “Come sail away. Come sail away. Come sail away yinz guys.”

    Fun times.

    What else happened?

    Alan Rickman died, and I wield Snape’s wand for the evening. Additionally, I used the Sherriff of Nottingham’s spoon to stir my TheraFlu. (Why a spoon, cousin?)

    Any other topics?

    Yep.

    1. Who is the least appealing of the Spice Girls? (Earthy Spice)
    2. Jen already makes amazing chocolate chip cookies. This has been confirmed by hundreds of unbiased humans across the past 10 years. Tonight, she creates an oatmeal cookie…and we’re generally not oatmeal cookie people…that is revelatory. How can that be? (Jen’s a baking alchemist. The Severus Snape of the oven. Domo Arigato, Ms. Spatulotto.)
    3. Can a man ejaculate while flaccid? (Yes.)
    4. Is it a sad, unsatisfying endeavor? (Always.)
    5. What’s said man’s history of mistake-sex followed by dramatic fall-out and compounded self-loathing as a percentage of total partners? (50)
    6. Is it impossible to keep an alias straight when utterly intoxicated? (Absolutely)

    You should really listen to this one.

    That’s it then. Cancel the kitchen scraps for lepers and orphans, no more merciful beheadings, and call off Christmas. We present to you, “Sloppy Snape and Sad Sex.”

    P.S.  If it wasn’t obvious from the first several paragraphs AND the associated links, this podcast is a Styx sandwich, with “The Best of Times” at the beginning and “Come Sail Away” at the end.  I wrote it once and I’ll write it again…fun times.

     

     

    42 min
  • 59. This Jawn's On Fleek

    Yo, this jawn is hilarious.

    Finally, we get Maddy on a podcast, along with her friend Sydney, and they’re absolutely hilarious.  Them jawns was killing it, if you know what I’m saying. (#squadgoals)

    Oh, you don’t.

    Urban Dictionary’s top definition of “Jawn” states: Jawn is a word used by Philly cats to describe anything and everything. NY cats interject with the word “joint” but it doesn’t convey the same feelings.  Here are the example phrases, offered by “Jay Sticky (ooowee!!),” with inconsistent punctuation, vernacular, and big words included:

    you see that car? that jawn was hot.
    you was at Keisha’s jawn last night?
    when them planes flew into that jawn, it exploded!!
    you heard that new jawn by B.Seigs & Freeway?
    i hit this one jawn in my trunk, nigga!!
    nah, i was at the jawn when she came by.

    As is always the case with Urban Dictionary, the additional definitions and examples illuminate the “word” in question and bring non sequitur and sidesplitting humor.  So…

    Jawn, definition 3, offered by the quaintly monikered “eatshitniggahh”: A word used in Philadelphia to describe any noun whose appropriate word could not be recalled by the brain in the necessary time. You can tell the general education level of the user of said word by how many times they use it in a sentence.

    And the example? yo i went to that jawn down at the plat, yo there were like 6 jawns down there man you shoulda whipped out the ’97 jawn picked up a couple jawns and came down, pussy

    Jawn, definition 5, with example, from the rather mundane but incredibly succinct and ultimately amusing “jhani”: Any person place or thing. (Actual quote…. ” i put my jawn in the jawn, and some jawn took that jawn, and now my jawn is gone”)

    So…jawn.

    We start with the jawns.  Uhh…beers.

    First, we had Lagunitas Bitter Oats.  Big, delicious, bitter, and full bodied.  That jawn was outstanding.

    Next, a take on the half-and-half using Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout and Lindemann’s Frambois.  Quite delicious.  (I think we’ve found the key to Jen’s adoration of stouts, which is to create beer combinations with Belgian fruit ales.)

    We continue with Maddy inadvertently teaching Greg the urban youth term that he will pile drive into your ears as he’s already jackhammered into your consciousness.  This jawn is most certainly on fleek.

    Here we experience Jen, Maddy, and Sydney all messing with Greg like a cirque du soleil of relentless sarcasm.  Go ahead, name that show!  (Circque du sarcasme presents: Relentless)

    Here Jen gets her driver’s licence back, opens a gift of fancy-ass rooster moccaloshes.  (Or would it be golaccasins?)

    Here Maddy proves she’s super ghetto with her grocery request.

    And we close with tortoise genitalia, or the lack there of.

    Oh…the music.  The intro music is by an artist named Jon Chan who goes by the name, and I shit you not, JAWN.  This is his beautiful song, “Fade to Black.”  (And as Jon indicates in the description, “Thisjawn is not a metallica tribute.”) [The italicized lingo is obviously added]

    The outro is, “Summertime” by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince.  Why?  As if that question is even necessary.  But here’s why.  Them boys is from Philly, that jawn is still smokin’ hot 25 years later(…that’s right, let it sink in…”Summertime” dropped in 1991…), and on a day like today, in the midst of Winter storm Jonas Brothers, don’t you wish it was Summertime right about now?  Burnin’ up and shit as you Escape with your Caribbean Queen, drinking something withlime and coconut?  Taking in the evening Summer Breeze? Hot fun in the Summertime, sailing with your easy lover as you see theSouthern Cross for the first time?  I wish.

    Have fun…we present to you, “This Jawn’s On Fleek.”

      #squadgoals
    34 min
  • 58. Quadrupels, Cupcakes, & Cranberry Juice Cocktails

    Here we are, well into 2016 and not nearly finished writing 2015 on checks and administrative forms.

    This lovely podcast occurred in the warm (quite warm), waning days of 2015…on an evening in which Greg decided to make cranberry juice and his unpredictable neurochemistry decided to toggle in the mildly bipolar manner that it often swings.

    This can be frustrating for Jen.  However, when the toggle moves from draggy and depressed to frenetic and happy it’s ultimately amusing for Greg and anyone not living with him.  Like you, dear listener.  So have fun!

    Whilst Greg boils a pound of cranberries in a liter of water, in preparation for a New Year’s margarita variation involving cranberry-citrus juice/syrup, Wigle white rye, Solerno blood orange liquer, club soda, and bitters, your dynamic duo of drinking Del Ducas pair Brewery Ommegang Three Philosophers quadruple style ale with two cupcakes from Vanilla Pastry Studio in Regent Square.  And wowee, wow-wow is that pairing wonderful!

    This fun continues for approximately 22 minutes, at which point your narrator, Greg, will return to guide you immediately back in for an 8-minutes-mini that includes the previously mentioned citrus-cranberry juice (…it turned out wonderfully, and quite concentrated…) and a late, late cocktail.

    The music included in this episode, in order, includes:

    1. “I can read your mind” by the wonderful and talented R.J. Heid.
    2. “The Cuppy Cake Song” by Amy Castle.  (Original video here.)
    3. “Ice Cream Man” by Van Halen.

    We present to you, “Quadrupels, Cupcakes and Cranberry Juice.”

      (A few of my favorite things.)
    38 min
  • 57. All That Glistens Is Not Booze

    Greg thought he’d purchased an 80 proof bottle of Wigle Wapsie Valley Bourbon. (Zagat likes it too!)   He needed half of the bottle to figure out that he’d actually purchased the cask strength, which is 112.5 proof.  Such things are par for this D2D course.

    Greg recently found wonderful cocktail vessels at Goodwill.  Ninety-nine cents each.  Beautifully etched stemware and perfectly rounded coupe glasses.

    Greg will forever sing the praises of Luxardo maraschino (“mah-duh-SKEE-noh”) cherries.

    What’s that all mean?  It means a top shelf, mind-blowing, “this ain’t your old man’s” Old-Fashioned cocktail.

    Remember K.I.S.S.?  Keep it simple, stupid: One Luxardo cherry and a barspoon of the syrup in the coupe glass.  Whatever ends up in the spoon as you scoop the fruit.  Then, a couple dashes of Peychaud’s bitters right on top.  In a pint glass, stir the bourbon with ice then strain on top of the cherry/syrup/bitters.  Cut a generous piece of orange rind, squeeze and twist the essense out of it…and drop it in the glass.

    Drink that.

    You get to the now booze-soaked cherry at the bottom.  What to do now?

    Just wait a moment.

    Remember the movie, “Men in Black,” how the cat had an entire galaxy in a marble on its collar?  “The galaxy’s on Orion’s belt.”  Well, these Luxardo cherries are like the taste and oral-sensory version of that.  Quite literally, they shut Jen up…mid-sentence even.  She’ll be talking, then hit the bottom of the glass, and as soon as she pops that cherry (…yeah, I know…) it’s cognitive shut-down.

    So that’s the booze.  How about the beer?

    1. Ballast Point “Sculpin.”  This beer is consistently rated near 100% across all sites, and it’s expensive.  Feeling the need to give this, “Best IPA in the universe” a try, we coughed up the cash.  After having tried it, we feel that the rating comes from the brew being so accessible and non-offensive while still being moderately big at 7% abv.  It’s like a very good “intermediate” level IPA.  You start with Magic Hat #9 or Sierra Nevada, then you move to this.  However, when we have IPAs at the D2D studios, we want to be assaulted with bit, complex aromas, flavors, and mouth feel…so this didn’t really do it for us.
    2. Ommegang “Lovely, Dark, and Deep.”  Sounds dirty, huh?  It’s delicious, and at 5.3% abv, you can actually drink this one for a while.  (My problem, of course, came with…)
    3. Terrapin “Wake and Bake.”  Wow.  I mean, Wow!  9.4% abv.  It’s an oatmeal, coffee stout that uses “Jittery Joe’s” coffee.  All from Athens, Georgia.  It’s like drinking the smoothest, most complex cold-brew coffee on the planet.  And oh, it’ll fuck you up.  Well, me.  But you, too.  It’s my…drum roll…favorite imperial “breakfast” stout as of right now.

    And the topics?

    1. We move through a Kindergarten level malt lesson
    2. We move through 14 beers you’re likely pronouncing wrong.  (Thank you, Thrillist.)
    3. We talk about Wigle deep cut rye, Wigle “absent minded” absinthe, and the possibility of an all-local sazerac.  Bing cherries are locally grown, so we could make bingaschino cherries and bingaschino liquer.  And at the end of it all?  A Sazerac’n’at!
    4. We Wrap it Up with the Fabulous Thunderbirds.

    And the music?

    1. At the beginning, “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” by John Lee Hooker.
    2. At the end, “Drink You Away” by Justin Timberlake.

    Have fun!  We present to you, “All That Glistens Is Not Booze.”

     

       

    39 min
  • 56. Cat's Eye

    Cats’ eyes in the dark are creepy. Dimly glowing little orbs of

    ancient feline wisdom, humanly incomprehensible contemplation, and
    murder. Lots of cold-blooded murder.  Absolutely unremarkable
    until they are pointed directly at you, and then it’s as if an
    ocular toggle has been thrown from to . I
    always feel creeping, gradually intensifying discomfort when
    confronted with that not-quite-blank stare shining from an
    indistinguishable distance, clearly intent on me.

    Various sources on the internet place the domestication of cats

    in a huge range, 5,000 to 12,000+ years ago. In either case,
    they’ve been living with us, in our homes, for a long time and
    roaming the planet even longer…and they are generally thought to be
    solitary in the wild. Though I’m not entirely convinced that we
    know shit about shit. Dogs, derivative of wolves, have been with us
    (arguably) longer than cats, though throughout most of our tangled
    history as de facto tools and vaudevillian entertainment. That is,
    we use them to hunt, search, pull, protect, sit, shake hands, roll
    over,  and walk on their hind legs as we play the Macarena.
    Cats, though. Cats, I believe, have given zero fucks about such
    tomfoolery forever. (I think this is where we humans, with our
    limited capacity for creativity, dispassionate observation, and
    accuracy […just turn on your television…], ended up concluding that
    cats are “solitary in the wild” instead of “as collectively sick of
    your shit in the wild as they individually will be in your home.” I
    tend to think that cats communicate and congregate on a higher
    level and in a way that is not obvious to our human brains.)

    I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t domesticate cats as much as

    cats decided, “You know what, fuck this shit. It’s dangerous out
    here, and I’m sick of eating disease-ridden rodents and these
    goddamn flying rats with their feathers and beaks and bones. Too
    much planning, training, and work for way too little shitty-tasting
    meat. You know what, I’m going to live with those fat, furless,
    declawed, blunt-toothed walking monkeys.” And so it was. And so it
    is.

    And now, I must go feed Emmy, the tortoise-shell tabby with

    PTSD, an inflammatory gut disorder, and feline Autism; and Lizzy,
    the skittish, nocturnal tuxedo cat with an intellectual disability.
    Because they demand it.

    And here, for you, the oddly compelling, if not mesmerizing

    sounds of Emmy eating, then licking the plate clean, then drinking.
    In stereo. Enjoy.

     

     


    (Lizzy: “Huh?”)       (Emmy: “I will kill you.”)

    9 min

About Driven to Drink

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Memoirs, memories, and musings of an anxious, often inebriated, truth seeker...with family and friends. (An alliterative little a$$hole, ain't he?!)