I really, really suck at partying. I just don’t have it in me anymore. I used to be a party animal, I was the kind of guy in high school that would quit my job just to attend a party, or at least call in sick. And I would start the party immediately after school until Sunday morning where I would then sleep till Monday morning, but of course there would be partying sporadically on weekdays as well. More or less I was a nut, probably wasn’t a very good idea but hey, I really did have fun. Last summer, as with every summer for the past 5 years, me and my friends have a big bash at my friends cabin. It is a rollicking good time with wiffle ball, cowboy golf, a lake, a pontoon, big fire at night, and outhouse, no running water and about as much cheap beer one could wish for. I think last year we had about five 30 packs of Special Export, and that was just what one guy brought. I brought two cases of PBR, but only managed to take down about 20 with a little help. Here is the story.

I took Friday off and headed up to Cotton, MN with my two dogs Sarah and Sydney at around noon. I loaded up the truck with my tent, two coolers of beer and some food and we were set. We stopped for some lunch in Cloquet and arrived at the cabin at about 3:30 where before I did anything else I cracked a cold PBR and from there on out there wasn’t a moment where there wasn’t a beer in my hand for the rest of the night. Obviously I drink this beer because if I drank the beer I usually do I would be passed out by nightfall. Before in my life this weekend be no problem, a no brainer, I would be the king of the party (or at least in my mind) and I would have been able to go on for the rest of the week if I could. This time around though, and also the prior party, I was not the old me. This time I woke up not feeling all that great but not really as bad as I could have been, went out for some breakfast and arrived back at the cabin where everyone cracked a beer, except for me. For some reason I just didn’t have any urge to drink a beer and especially not a PBR or any of the other ones that were there. Eventually around 4 after wiffle ball I cracked my first beer and let me tell you, I wasn’t enjoying it and it took me about 20 minutes to drink it. That was it. After trying to get into it I gave up and I eventually moved inside with my dogs and another fellow who doesn’t drink (how he can stand being around drunks is beyond me) and turned on some pre season football and there I remained. I gradually saw people go from charming to stupid, if you haven’t done this before it is really an eye opener, watching people, smart and intelligent, slowly drink themselves stupid. It’s irritating but at the same time enjoyable. You’re welcome to all those who have watched me do it. Ever see on those TV shows where the actors are comically acting drunk, this is very accurate to what it is like. It took me forever to fall asleep because people were just loud as hell and the radio gradually got louder and louder. I realized that I put my tent way to close to all the action and, though I did not feel it the night before, that blanket I brought to add some extra cushion to my sleeping bag was not very effective. I got to sleep at around 3:00, woke up at about 8:00 and immediately packed up and hit the road. This was it, I knew it before but this time it was in stone, I am old.

But you know what, I like it. There was a time in my life where I thought I was going to party forever, where there was no way I would be tied down with a wife and kid, where I would work 8 to 5 everyday and drive a mini van but here I am, and I love it. I love every minute of it. Sure there are times where I think I want this or that in my life but then when I get a taste of it, I don’t like it. Coming home at 6:00, spending time with Delia and Kelly, eating super at the table, watching a movie or the hockey game going to bed at 10:00… repetitive and boring? I see it as stable and relaxing. The fun I do have now is just right for me, sure I still drink often but never really to the point where my next day is ruined. Fun for me is taking walks, biking, playing hockey, going out to dinner and seeing Delia do things for the first time. Getting wasted and being not being relaxed just isn’t fun anymore. I can still do it, and I will still go to the cabin parties but this time, it will only be one night. My idea of a good time, what I love to do, is sit with a couple of friends and family on the back porch, heat up the grill, put on some Uncle Tupelo talk about whatever is on our minds, maybe play a yard game or something and of course drink some good beer.

However this time of year I really can’t hang out on the back porch. Luckily hockey is my favorite sport and it gives me something to relax to at night. And nothing goes better with this than a bomber of beer. The other night while watching our Minnesota Wild I popped open a treat from our good friend over at the Vice Blog, Stone’s Double Bastard Ale. This is what I look for in a bomber, high alcohol and big taste. It had a beautiful dark brownish color with a creamy frothy head. The aroma was deep with hops and malts. The taste was one part strong ale second part strong hops, almost biting my taste buds. If this was sold at the store by my house it would be very hard for me to pass this up. Heck if any Stone beer was sold by my house it would be hard to buy anything else, though I am probably just saying this because it is not sold by my house. Double bastard is awesome, just awesome.

Just awesome.

Seriously.

Stone’s Double Bastard Ale

A+