Oh Fer Guinness' Sake
Note to my faithful readers (that would be Mom and Dad, Susie, and Maryanne and Dan): Got a little behind-ish -- okay, a LOT behind-ish -- on the blog, so how about you pretend it's, oh, say, March 14th, or 15th or even 16th as you read this post, okay?
Not to alarm anyone, but this week's column is only for the stout. Ireland’s famous Guinness stout that is!
If you're not familiar with stout, it's a loverly adult malted refreshment that looks as black as aitch eee double hockey sticks but tastes like a bit of aitch eee aye vee eee enn.
(Note to you schoolmarms out there: yeah, yeah, the third letter is "a," but I gave it little Irish lilt, okay?)
I'm the type who enjoys a tasty pint of Guinness anytime of the year, but particularly during my annual St. Patrick's Day celebration, which usually begins on about September 5 and runs until at least May 9 or so. Which I'm pretty sure is some kind of world record.
None of my friends and acquaintances are as fond of Guinness as I am, and in fact, they often try to persuade me to enjoy a different adult malted refreshment. I guess this is because I’ve accumulated a compendious lexicon of trivial Guinness factoids over the years, and while enjoying a cold pint, I can't control my compulsion to recite them.
This might not be so bad, except for my insistence on repeating any factoids missed by friends and acquaintances who stepped away to the bathroom. (Hmmm. Maybe this is why I have so few friends and acquaintances.)
Guinness is the best-selling stout in the entire world, and America ranks fourth in Guinness consumption. The top three Guinness guzzling nations are probably exactly the ones you'd expect: Great Britain, Ireland, and Nigeria.
Yes, Nigeria. Which reminds me. . .I need to ask that deposed dictator's son (the one who's going to use my bank account to hide $39 million) how many pints of Guinness our booty will buy us in Nigeria!
I had the pleasure of visiting Ireland several years ago, and I'll never forget the day we departed for the Emerald Isle. It was the same day that a white SUV carrying O. J. Simpson was chased at recklessly low speeds along a Los Angeles freeway. I realize this is not a Guinness-related factoid, but it gives you an idea of what my few friends and acquaintances have to put up with.
While we were in Ireland, I bought a Guinness baseball cap and a Guinness sweatshirt, both of which I'm presently wearing. In fact, I've been wearing them since my St. Pat's Day observance began last September. I'm also rolling my computer mouse around on a Guinness pad my sister brought back for me when she visited the famous Guinness brewery at St. James's Gate in Dublin.
Oddly, even though my own trip to the Auld Sod included a couple days in Dublin, we never visited this holiest shrine in all Guinnessdom. I think my wife didn’t want to risk being exposed to any more factoids.
But I can tell you that Guinness has operated continuously in that location since day one, in 1759. At that time, there were 10 other breweries on St. James's street. Brewmasters loved the site because it was located right next to a pure and guaranteed supply of Dublin's thirstiest drinkers.
Guinness founder Arthur Guinness (no relation) signed a lease that set the rent for the brewery at $70 dollars (Nigerian) per year. This was a lot of money in 1759 Ireland, but he could afford it thanks to a bequest of $150 from the will of his godfather, Vito Guinness.
Confident that he'd be in business for quite some time, Arthur even agreed to the landlord's demand for a long-long-long-long-long-long-term lease - 9,000 years. Really. At $70 per year for the duration. Really again.
(By the way, I've done the math, and 9,000 times $70 equals one miserably puny inheritance for any descendants of that landlord who are still around in the year 10,759.)
No article about Guinness would be complete without mentioning the odd behavior of the gas bubbles in a glass of stout. Rather than floating to the top, they sink, due to a force known as "the drag effect."
A couple of my brainy friends explained this phenomenon to me, and added that the next time I imbibe a pint, I should watch for something called "the double drag effect": The bubbles will cascade downward, and so will their desire to sit with me if I bore them with any more Guinness factoids.
# # #
TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
Not to alarm anyone, but this week's column is only for the stout. Ireland’s famous Guinness stout that is!
If you're not familiar with stout, it's a loverly adult malted refreshment that looks as black as aitch eee double hockey sticks but tastes like a bit of aitch eee aye vee eee enn.
(Note to you schoolmarms out there: yeah, yeah, the third letter is "a," but I gave it little Irish lilt, okay?)
I'm the type who enjoys a tasty pint of Guinness anytime of the year, but particularly during my annual St. Patrick's Day celebration, which usually begins on about September 5 and runs until at least May 9 or so. Which I'm pretty sure is some kind of world record.
None of my friends and acquaintances are as fond of Guinness as I am, and in fact, they often try to persuade me to enjoy a different adult malted refreshment. I guess this is because I’ve accumulated a compendious lexicon of trivial Guinness factoids over the years, and while enjoying a cold pint, I can't control my compulsion to recite them.
This might not be so bad, except for my insistence on repeating any factoids missed by friends and acquaintances who stepped away to the bathroom. (Hmmm. Maybe this is why I have so few friends and acquaintances.)
Guinness is the best-selling stout in the entire world, and America ranks fourth in Guinness consumption. The top three Guinness guzzling nations are probably exactly the ones you'd expect: Great Britain, Ireland, and Nigeria.
Yes, Nigeria. Which reminds me. . .I need to ask that deposed dictator's son (the one who's going to use my bank account to hide $39 million) how many pints of Guinness our booty will buy us in Nigeria!
I had the pleasure of visiting Ireland several years ago, and I'll never forget the day we departed for the Emerald Isle. It was the same day that a white SUV carrying O. J. Simpson was chased at recklessly low speeds along a Los Angeles freeway. I realize this is not a Guinness-related factoid, but it gives you an idea of what my few friends and acquaintances have to put up with.
While we were in Ireland, I bought a Guinness baseball cap and a Guinness sweatshirt, both of which I'm presently wearing. In fact, I've been wearing them since my St. Pat's Day observance began last September. I'm also rolling my computer mouse around on a Guinness pad my sister brought back for me when she visited the famous Guinness brewery at St. James's Gate in Dublin.
Oddly, even though my own trip to the Auld Sod included a couple days in Dublin, we never visited this holiest shrine in all Guinnessdom. I think my wife didn’t want to risk being exposed to any more factoids.
But I can tell you that Guinness has operated continuously in that location since day one, in 1759. At that time, there were 10 other breweries on St. James's street. Brewmasters loved the site because it was located right next to a pure and guaranteed supply of Dublin's thirstiest drinkers.
Guinness founder Arthur Guinness (no relation) signed a lease that set the rent for the brewery at $70 dollars (Nigerian) per year. This was a lot of money in 1759 Ireland, but he could afford it thanks to a bequest of $150 from the will of his godfather, Vito Guinness.
Confident that he'd be in business for quite some time, Arthur even agreed to the landlord's demand for a long-long-long-long-long-long-term lease - 9,000 years. Really. At $70 per year for the duration. Really again.
(By the way, I've done the math, and 9,000 times $70 equals one miserably puny inheritance for any descendants of that landlord who are still around in the year 10,759.)
No article about Guinness would be complete without mentioning the odd behavior of the gas bubbles in a glass of stout. Rather than floating to the top, they sink, due to a force known as "the drag effect."
A couple of my brainy friends explained this phenomenon to me, and added that the next time I imbibe a pint, I should watch for something called "the double drag effect": The bubbles will cascade downward, and so will their desire to sit with me if I bore them with any more Guinness factoids.
# # #
TakefiveT5@yahoo.com
posted by Don Stuart at 4:04 PM
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