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!

Beach Weekend II

This year's beach weekend was awesome. I had been looking forward to it for months, and it didn't let me down.

As to be expected, there was plenty of laughs, plenty of beer, cards, several vomits, and a few cheese slams, to name a few.

Let's start with this year's roster.

Making up for missing last year, is Dooley.



Also goes by Dool show, and to very few people, Ian. Dooley is our resident mixologist and hails from the rock (chief). When talking to Dooley, if you say anything that has to do with Boston, Nantucket, or any kind of rum, you have to yell "chief" afterwards. Dool show set out to explore New Zealand for a few months, and ended up staying for two years. When he got back, we learned he was now married. Sick wedding Dooley.


Disregard me in the foreground with that stupid long-brimmed hat that Owen finds every time he's there.


Next we have Robert.



Goes by RED, Rdoug, Dougbert. He was the first recipient of this year's cheese slam award. This picture was after he thought he caught the slam for the second night in a row, when really it was just a fake. If it weren't for Rob, Darren would likely be dead by now. Rob once hurled right on the side of Buckingham Palace. It could have been some leftover bitterness from the Revolutionary War, but it was more likely because of the gentleman below.

Cawley.



Goes by Cal. Cal was on the London trip with Robert during a study abroad for school, and after Rob was having the worst hangover of his life at the time (until beach weekend last year), Cawley was asking Rob if he wanted to gnaw on a stick of butter, or take mayonnaise shots with budweiser chasers. This led to the immediate booting on the Queen's primary residence. The double bird in the picture is likely going out to anything related to Pittsburgh or liberalism.


Scott ("Scawt!")




See back right of picture.
Goes by Owens or Y'Owens. His specialty is the cheese slam. If you don't know what that is, you don't want to. If you do know what that is, you probably wish you didn't. Owen desperately needs to get out of New York City. His former specialty is starting trouble, and claims that he didn't do anything to start it, when in actuality, it was probably about 75% him, 25% some guy who said something he immediately regretted. In Chapel Hill on Cal's birthday during school, apparently a car full of guys jumped Owen, kicked him a bunch of times, and stole his prized Mets hat. Owen didn't remember the ordeal until an hour later.

Jack.

Goes by Jack man, Biggs, Big, Large, Large guy, large man, or one of several hundred other names. He spent most of the time snoring next to the table or barking at people several houses down.





Here in spirit:

Corey.

Goes by Blake, Babe #1, Babe #2, Grilled Cheeses, or Babe Will You Make Me a Grilled Cheese. Corey couldn't make it this year because he's West Coasting at Gonzaga and couldn't fork out the cash for a plane ticket.

Darren

Goes by Salty, Salty Donkey, The Gow, or his Saltiness. Couldn't make this year because the man has a tight grip on him, pretty much to the point where breathing is difficult. This weekend was the end of quarter, so Darren was lucky if the man even let him eat lunch. I was half expecting him to show up Friday night at 2AM, like he did last year. His specialty is nearly burning down apartments with chicken nuggets two times in one night, and getting lost in Mexico after a binge, only to turn up two days later with no wallet and no shoes (he did some old world bartering and paid the cabby with his sandals).

The Pat Monster.

I'm shocked that Pat's still alive. Everything that has gone wrong throughout college he equates to bad luck, but upon deeper analysis, it's 100% his fault; he just hasn't accepted that yet. He came back from Thanksgiving one year with a shiner because he got knocked out by Ricco Rodriguez in a Vegas Casino. It's probably a good thing Pat didn't come down, especially if he was driving. While in school, he got pulled for DUI without having a sip of alcohol; in fact, he was the DD that night. I'm not saying he's a bad driver. I'm saying he's a terrible driver.



Since the water was cold and the waves decent, Dooley and I decided to dress up like penguins and go surfing. Dooley has been pretty much all over the world surfing, and on days like this, when some of the sets were 5-6 feet, he doesn't say anything, but I know he's thinking "man, this is average, I wish it was double overhead."



















The weather forecast looked like shit all week coming up to the weekend, especially after Rob jinxed it by sending everyone the link. Turned out that there was nothing to complain about at all. It was supposed to rain one day, and missed us by only a few miles or so, leaving a big gay rainbow over the ocean in front of the house.


And we all know there's only one way to pose in front of a rainbow: Like you've got one on the bumper of your car.














Pretty cool pictures taken by Dooley though. He did some enhancing effect on this one and I can't figure out if it's out of a really good dream or a really bad one.










Already looking forward to next year's trip. In the mean time, Owen has gotten engaged; congrats buddy.


It's been about a year since I started the ole blog and I feel like my reasons for doing so have shifted. At first, I thought it would be a good idea because in general I've got a lot to say about a lot of things. But what I've realized after typing out these posts is that just the act of writing them out has made me realize what great times I'm having. If anything I won't have to look back one day and say "wow I really had it great"--instead, I can appreciate it for all it's worth right now.

Spring Beach Trip and Mini Hiatus

Last night I got back from about two weeks in Nags Head. It was an all around awesome trip. For the first part of it, my dad had come down for a few days to fix some stuff at the house. He's always good company, and considering he's a pretty damn good cook, I ate well.

Over the weekend we had a crew of about 10. Pretty much a perfect crew, actually. Despite the fact that not everyone knew each other prior, everyone got along famously. I have trouble sitting still even on vacation; the thought of laying on a chair on the beach or by a pool all day makes me cringe. Fortunately, this was the type of group that is always down for going somewhere or doing something.

I forgot to take pictures, and I think Jensen forgot her camera, and she's usually the one who leads that charge.






Photo courtesy of Randy Childs.




A friend Randy, has a dog, Silas, that's a Carolina Dog, which is an American Dingo. Mattafack, Silas' parents were actually wild. And I'm not talking about strays; these wild dogs have been living in the backwoods and swamps for thousands of years. Pretty cool dog, too. It's amazing how well they seem to adapt to being first generation pets. In the background I'm heading out to catch a few rides and a few faceplants as well.

Later on in the week, it was just the Jack Dog and me. Once in a while when I'm down there and have a little spare time, I like to drive south to check out the goings on, or better yet, lack thereof. About 10 miles down the road is the Oregon Inlet, which connects the Pamlico Sound to the Atlantic. Here you can literally find some of the best fishing in the world.

Here's an awesome pic of the bridge and inlet from National Geographic:



I was talking with the Bob, the owner of Bob's Grill (eat and get the hell out), one morning and he said the Oregon Inlet is closing up. The currents are taking sand out of some areas and putting the sand into others. Recently a guy at the wheel of a 56 foot fishing boat ran into a piling, and the currents were so strong that water came onto his boat and sank the whole thing in 3 minutes. A 56 foot boat went down in 3 minutes--hard to imagine, until I saw that the entire Pamlico Sound, which spands about 1/4 of the coast of NC, only has two points where water comes in and out of the Atlantic, and this is one of them. I've said it before and I'll say it again, one of the things I like most about the Outer Banks is how mother nature always has the upper hand.

It's pretty well known that the condition of the Oregon Inlet Bridge is absolutely terrible. It was analyzed by an engineering company back in '06, which gave it a rating of 'poor,' and concluded that in it's current state, without repairs, the bridge would only be considered safe for roughly another 6 years or so.

Anyway, my destination on these short treks is usually Pea Island, a few miles past the bridge. The road narrows, and to the left is one dune and the ocean, and to the right you'll find marshes as far as you can see. If you show up after a big storm, sometimes the roads are so flooded that you can't even cross, at least I can't in the Sube without getting all kinds of salt water in the engine. As far as I know, salt water and engines have yet to get along. No houses will ever be built here, as it's a protected zone. Matt and I used to come down this way in the summers looking for waves. There are a few areas where you can pull to the side of the road and walk up the dune to check the surf. One of these places is known locally as Boilers.


It's called Boilers because you can see the boiler stack of a shipwreck sticking out of the water. It's the wreck of the Oriental, and this beast went down in 1862. We had been surfing here for years without even noticing it. Word on the street is that some pretty big fish like to hang out in the area, including the kind that you don't want to piss off.

On the right day, you can be the only person on the beach for miles, and Jack took full advantage, running full loops, jumping in the ocean, peeing on every piece of driftwood and every clump of seaweed and of course making my car stink like wet dog afterward.

I was just getting into a good routine by mid week the second week- work all day with a few breaks to head to the water for a few, drop by the store early evening and get what I need to make a bad ass dinner for myself, get some work done at night with the door cracked so I could hear the ocean. But of course, when it was time to go, the weather jumped to about 65, the sun was steady, and the wind died down, as if to taunt me.

I shouldn't complain though, in two weeks or so it'll be annual beach weekend, which will be sicckkkk. I should start hydrating now.

February Trip and Round 2 of Beach Weekend

We headed down to Carolina Beach for the polar plunge 2 weeks back. Jensen's family owns a cottage about 5 blocks from the water- just far enough away that you can walk to the ocean in a few minutes, but don't get all of the traffic. It's not just any place though; her grandfather built it with his bare hands back in the 60s. Homes built with the original owners' bare hands carry just a little more love within the walls.

I love some Carolina Beach. The place had a reputation for being a little rough for many years, but has cleaned up nicely. It's perfect actually; you still get to see some pretty special people if you catch my drift.

My routine when I get down there is usually about the same for Saturday mornings; roll out of bed with a headache, walk out to the screened-in porch, ask jack if he wants to go for a car ride (and he's already shot up and raced to the door after "you wanna go---") and head down to the bean to grab some coffees. On the way back I'll check the water for waves, which there usually aren't any in front of the house.

We then head down to Fort Fisher, a nearby state park. That's usually where we find a wave or two, like we did this time, as evidenced by the photo below, taken by government satellites. I love the kinds of days where we half-reluctantly get wet suited up (just doing that can be a real pain in the balls) and paddle out to end up finding 2-3 foot, fun little waves.





Jensen got a new board from a friend and was taking them down the line with Corbin. For one reason or another, I got a good several months' worth of face plants in along with a few good rides.


Graaaaant, will you wax my board?



Slaving away. I even caught some sunburn in February. Of course, I'm an easier target than most with the amount of coverage on my dome. The sun was probably saying, "man it's too early in the year to fry all those beach patrons....wait, check out that dude with the five head- I got this"




Considering the amount of pain I go through when having to leave CB on Sundays, I really should be living closer to the beach. Two hours isn't far, but still. I'm even more thankful to be able to have the freedom to go there, or OBX when I want, without some a-hole manager scratching his chin while deciding whether or not I can take some of my vacation time. Besides, now I just work from wherever I am at the moment.

This leads me to thinking....2 more beach trips coming up, the second being the 2nd annual beach weekend with my college friends. I say annual because I'm really hoping we can do this every year.

I don't have much in the archive in terms of leftover pictures, but regardless, let's take a stroll down memory lane.

Last year involved whistling pigs, several thousand busch lights, 80 degree beach days, face plants, admittedly a cheese slam, typical Darrenisms, and all sorts of good times.

Here's how I ended up one night.



Btw Jack thanks for the pillow effect; you've earned your spot on this year's trip.








As I got up and looked around, everyone was in this general condition...








Solid, Owen, solid.

And this wasn't just him, it was the entire room. Amazing how everyone falls asleep sitting up, beer still in hand with no spills or drops. This takes some serious balance, and plain old talent in general, but what can I say, we are a group of talented guys.


Unfortunately Cooper (see below) won't be able to make it, but I'm hoping him reading this will convince him to sell some valued personal belongings or family heirlooms on craigs list and fork out the 7 hundo for a plane ticket from Washington state.








"Man, sitting here with the dog playing poker with everyone is like heaven. I can't wait to do this next year.....oh wait"


On a brighter note, Dool show and Cal have confirmed for this year. Instead of imitating Dooley the entire time, we get the real thing this year. Shaping up to be another classic.

btw Corey you are in, whether you like it or not.

Good Songwriters

I've got a lot of places to go and a lot of living to do in the mean time, but when I'm old, gray and tired, I'm gonna sit on my sailboat or porch, depending on the day, and listen to John Prine....







Even if you've never heard of him, which most people I'm sure haven't, how could you watch something like this and not want to have a chair across from him and learn some things?

Though the guy never truly made it big on a commercial level, a few decades ago many people were predicting he'd be the next Dylan.

Are you OK?

Yes. The answer is always yes. Even if it's "yeah, but..."

This is a rule that should be followed by all guys. If someone asks you if you are ok, no matter what the circumstances, your answer is always "yes." I don't care if your leg is broken the opposite direction and you are bleeding profusely, your answer needs to be yes. Otherwise, you're acting like a you know what (I'll keep it clean).

A reasonable example for this situation would be the following:

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah I'm ok, but my leg is shattered and I'm bleeding. I need some help right away."

If you say no in this situation, the only thing left for you to do is scream cry.

Looking back on it, Matt and I were ahead of our time at the ripe age of 6. I remember even back in kindergarten, we'd always make a big deal out if it if someone said they weren't ok. As terrible and soulless as it sounds, we'd even imitate them and pretend we were crying.

What I'm talking about is not a matter of being 'tough' or anything. I'm not sure what it's a matter of, actually. Maybe just my [sometimes humble] opinion.

This was just inspired by a situation I was in the other day. I won't go into specifics because the person might be reading this, but let's just say that yeah he was OK and it really wasn't a big deal. I gave Jensen this rant and she just listened with a half smirk, as if she was thinking "well I kind of agree with you, but you're sort of an asshole at the same time."

Cracked My First Homebrew

(if you don't like tasty brews don't bother reading)

The first carbonated one at least. For the last two months I've had roughly 9 gallons of beer fermenting and getting all happy in one of my closets, and about 2-3 weeks ago Britton and I bottled it up.

My first batch was an IPA and the second a brown ale. Now the IPA was based off of someone else' recipe, but the brown ale was my own from scratch. I wanted to dive right into making my own. The way I see it, if you only brew off of others' recipes, it's like being in a band and only playing cover songs; it might sound good and have stage presence, but you ain't too original now is you?

Flavor wise, the brown ale is exactly what I was going for. The only change I'll make is to add a little more body and up the alcohol a little - it clocked in around 4.3%, just under what I wanted.

I've got another few gallons of a new pale ale in the closet, another recipe I came up with. I figure that within a few more batches, I'll be making world class tasty beverages.

The homebrewing community is a collection of many interesting people. Despite my limited experience, I've tried my best to narrow it down into three main categories:

1. The kind of guy who brews beer (and does whatever else he does) between rounds of world of warcraft.

2. 42-48 year old males who refer to their wives as 'the old lady.' They wear tshirts tucked into very light colored jeans, big sneakers, and are often named Larry or Barry.

3. 25-29 year old males who answer "right on" to just about anything you say to them.

Good people regardless of demographics and what they choose to do in their spare time. Not sure where I fall into the mix, but I don't really care. I just like learning how to do stuff. Right on.

On a side note, had an awesome Christmas--spent about a week and a half up in PA with the fam and Jensen came up for a few days as well. Heading to Carolina beach in the AM---supposed to be 67 on New Years day, and hopefully we'll get some waves..