Getting into Heaven

According to some hardcore bible bangers, who likely pose a threat to society, the world is going to end tomorrow, May 21st, 2011. They're so convinced that many have sold all of their belongings to pay for things like billboards around the country. I saw one the other day in eastern North Carolina. Shocker.

Anyway, it's supposed to happen tomorrow at 6PM. Jensen and I have an engagement party to go to at 6:30, and it's supposed to have heavy hors d'oeuvres, so even if the apocalypse is a half hour to an hour behind schedule, we still wouldn't get our last supper in. That leaves no choice other than to have that meal this evening.

I recently found a butcher shop down the road that carries all sorts of interesting things--kind of like the asian market a few blocks away, but without some of the downright terrifying sights and smells (btw still haven't pulled the trigger on a durian fruit). I wish I hadn't discovered it on the second to last day of Earth, but better late than never. I figured Jensen and I could go out with a real bang, so guess what we're having for our last supper? You guessed it. Alligator and home brew.


Might as well make it interesting. We'll probably add some veggies and rice to tag along.

I could be doing this because I'm curious about what alligator tastes like. Or I could be doing this in the event that heaven gets overcrowded tomorrow evening (hundreds of millions of people would take some serious planning) and that it becomes a situation comparable to the great depression, where would-be day laborers line up along fences and the dock masters select the few that will get work, and therefore pay, for that day.

In the case like this, it's good to stand out. What if God was having trouble making up His mind, and threw out a question: "What did everyone have for their last supper?"

You'd get all kinds of responses.

One guy would say "Frozen pizza. I washed it down with some Crystal light, too"

Another might say "Filet mignon with a bleu cheese butter, herb garlic whipped potatoes, and a Napa Cab to represent the blood of Christ."

"Rosemary chicken with couscous and asparagus with hollandaise sauce."

"Alligator and homebrew." Done. Shoe-in. It's at least unique enough to make it to the finals or semi-finals of the competition, if not right through the gates. I'm sure God would add something like "When my son was on earth, everyone drank so much wine only because people hadn't yet developed the strains of fresh Northwest hops that give a real kick to an American IPA." This meal might even leave some room for negotiation; Jensen and I are a package deal, and I'm not going without her. She'd get in way before this anyway. Me, I don't know about that. I can't begin to count the number of times one of my friends like Jared said something like, "you're goin' to hell, Cook."

Aside from uniqueness, think of it from this angle: Chickens just mind their own business all day - eating seeds, pecking around. Cows are friendly, slow animals who just eat grass and produce milk for many naive people who still believe it's actually good for you; but that's not their fault. Pigs are actually very loyal, gentle and as intelligent or more so than the average family dog.

But not alligators. For thousands of years, alligators have been ripping the limbs off of unsuspecting fisherman all over the world. They regularly eat dogs. Mattafack, Florida alligators live off a steady menu consisting of swamp rednecks, wading birds, retired seniors wearing wrap-around sunglasses, and Pomeranians. I'm practically doing God's work by eating this beast.

Life in the Cackalack

I was just thinking about how good life in the Cackalacky has been lately. I've been really busy--a lot to do with work, and recently Jensen moved in, so there's been a lot going on.

Anyway, it's only May and I've gotten a lot of quality trips in, with even more to come. Next weekend will be the fourth or fifth beach trip.

We headed to Carolina Beach over Easter with some friends. When you head down to Fort Fisher, there are other people, but at the same time it's sort of like having your own beach. And at Fort Fisher, it's against the law to not be redneck.

My buddy Bill just moved back to NC and his truck ensured that we were in accordance with this law:


Complete set up with grill, tent, and jacked up Ford turbo diesel. Everything you need to kick it at CB. Minus the High Lifes.





photo courtesy of Randy Childs


One of the other things I like about spring down here, is that you can trunk it in April. Hopping in the water without a wetsuit, no problem.


After about 30 minutes though I had to get out; my hands were blue and I couldn't move my arms much anymore. Still felt good to do it though.



photo courtesy of Randy Childs

At different times over the last few years I had thought about eventually moving out west, toward Colorado or some place like that. As time rolls on, I know that's not for me. When I fall or face plant, I don't want it to be on snow, ice, or frozen earth, I want it to be in the water...see exhibit A:







That wave was at least 10 feet. Must've hurt.

photo courtesy of Randy Childs


Anyway, onto the homebrew front. I don't mean to float my own boat. I'm not one to really drink my own cool-aid. I don't really think it's right for one to pat oneself on the back. But...I think I'm starting to get pretty good with turning this:

and this:






into some of this:



I'm serious, look how delicious that looks. That's a shot of my latest IPA sitting on the deck. I brewed this one with 3 types of malts and 2 hop varieties. It's far from perfect, but it clocks in at 7.5% and tastes pretty damn good.

If that picture doesn't make you want to have a beer, you're nuts. Or perhaps you are the type of person who would rather be sipping some kind of mixed drink that has Malibu in it. Get you some!