The Fetishization of Beer. (My)

For a while now, I've realised that some of/perhaps most of the fun I get from beer, isn't actually always the beer itself.  Very often I get a real buzz from all the peripheral stuff...... I present the following evidence:

i) I am hoarding beer.  My cupboard overfloweth.  I so cherish the idea of having a large and splendid collection of beer in my stash, that I am often loathe to drink any of my 'treasures'.  Even when I know that I have a cupboard full of lovely beer at home, I still desire to go beer-shopping.  I dream about it in fact.  Generally I only allow myself to drink the really good beers, when (due to over shopping) I can no longer hide* my beers in my cupboard.  Having to drink the good stuff however, makes me feel a bit wretched.  This, in part,  leads to second phenomena (see ii)

ii) The sourcing, acquisition and discovery of beers.  As often stated, it gives me enormous pleasure to find an obscure Polish or Lithuanian beer in an obscure local shop.  The pleasure of finding is very often larger than the pleasure of drinking these 'finds' - BUT they serve the purpose of allowing me to consume beer regularly, without having to eat into my 'treasures'.  DOUBLE WHAMMY!



iii) I take photographs of the beers I drink.  I'm not sure when this started, but it's getting worse.  Now, not only do I take photographs of particularly noteworthy beers, I also snap pump clips, glasses of indistinguishable liquid and anything that I buy from a beer shop.  Not only that, but a new breed of beer photography has been spawned from this - artistic beer photography.  Twitter reveals that I am not the only one who likes to snap their beers.



iv) I rate my beers.  This is a very longstanding symptom: for ten years I have been reviewing and recording every different beer I sample.  This gives rise to a whole panoply of statistical beer geekery, allowing me to tick off countries, beer styles, drinking establishments and actual beers.  This pretends to give legitimacy to the innate, blokey need to hunt/gather beers and shout about it to the other members of the 'tribe'.  Even though it pretends to be cooler, Untappd fulfils this function also; so for all you Untappd dudes, please be assured you are just as sad as me.

v) I talk endlessly about beer.  Whenever I can, I do this with people in the room with me; when this isn't possible, I go online.  In fact, by seeking out and forming a peer group of like minded beer geeks, I have fundamentally changed the dynamics of my friendship circle, via the medium of Twitter.  Again, and rather obviously, I am not alone in this.

Now points iii), iv) and v) are connected: they are clearly outward expressions of the need to be a part of the crowd and feel accepted.  However, as for points i) and ii) - your guess is as good as mine.  Perhaps I didn't have enough Star Wars figures as a child.  Perhaps I am overvaluing each beer too much, instead of drinking them and yielding to their dirty pleasure.  Perhaps my inner puritanical streak shrinks from the wanton lust of actual beer consumption, and therefore turns the acquisition of them into a guilty, exciting pleasure.  Others in my 'circle' are less obsessive than me and are able to buy, consume and enjoy: but for me, the possession is part of the excitement.

I also love 'the choice'.  In life generally I often find that 'the choice' is much more exciting that 'the choosing'.  What does this mean?  Well, when I walk into Cotteridge or Stirchley Wines and behold the shelves stacked with colourful treats, my heart is aflutter.  When I have to actually select 5 or 6 bottles, I feel constrained, limited and cut short, because the wide expanse of 'the choice' is behind me and and I must live with the results of 'the choosing' (forever wondering whether the grass was greener on the other side)**.  This torment repeats itself in my beer cupboard - the thrill of having a really healthy stash, somehow seems more boundlessly exciting than the rather limited excitement of having to select just one to actually drink.     

Am I a complete weirdo?  Am I alone?  No. No I'm not alone.  Twitter proves this.  And in fact, even for those who do not obsess about beer, they are free to get jiggy with trainspotting, or go wobbly at the knees for vinyl.

I accept that I am a beer fetishist.  After all, I actually sat down to write this blog piece about the subject - that's how twisted I am.  You (yes, you!) on the other hand have read this article.  You're a fetishist too.  Accept it.   




*from wife
** rather horrifyingly, this seems to correspond with aspects of my romantic life, during the mid part of the Noughties.  Epiphany!

Drinking - My New Paradigm

It's time to finally admit.  I don't go the pub very much anymore.  I think I was sort of trying to make this point in a previous post, but it warrants a more explicit airing.

Much respected colleagues in the Birmingham Beer Twitterari have recently revisited a much noted point - that Birmingham still doesn't have a City Centre pub, which can consistently deliver, on tap, one or more hoppy, high quality beers.  Various location have their moments, but equally there have been many (boringly retold) occasions when I have ducked in and out of several boozers, during an attempted 'stolen crawl' only to find nothing to take my fancy.

This is one part of the problem.  Now this part may be fixed by the arrival of Brewdog, in fact I'm sure it will.  However, that will not correct part 2 of the problem, which is fiscal in nature, and could perhaps be described as 'quantitive diseasing' i.e. large corporations liberally pumping funds out of my bank account.

Brewdog won't be cheap, but then again, nowhere is that cheap anymore (except for the Black Country).

So shorn of my once frequent pub loitering, I have now moved fully to an off-licence driven pursuit of great beer.  Off licence addiction is now easier than ever to 'get into', as Birmingham now provides any number of places to grab some Eastern European lager, plus two premier destinations for all the very best beer brands - both located along the Pershore Road (Stirchley Wines and Cotteridge Wines).  Off licence shopping is clean, easy and oh so tempting; but it does lead to single-handed drinking, for [I am perhaps glad to report] my house is not usually filled with garrulous blokes standing at the bar necking boozes.

Yes, I now mainly drink alone, which simultaneously means I don't drink as much.  This is good for health reasons obviously, but it does lead to a stockpile in my beer cupboard.  Why is this?  Well during a proper session in the pub, I might manage to sample 4 or 5 different beers in an evening, but I'm unlikely to do this at home, as sitting on my sofa, watching Family Guy and getting mullered on fine beer is not exactly the height of spiritual rebirth and doesn't provide the most wholesome example to set for one's offspring.

So then, what I have right now, is a cupboard full of beer, and ever more chances, to purchase ever more delicious beers, from some of Birmingham's ever more brilliant off licences.  Good for the City, meh for my wallet, and confusing for my hectored brain.  How can I keep up?

In the long run, will it truly be possible to be the poster boy of Birmingham's craft beer revolution from my sofa?  Only time will tell, but it will require some ingenuity.

This post is dedicated to the_Bish - one of Birmingham's premier Ratebeer and Twitter correspondents.