New Experience: Hipster Bars

Your local Renaissance Wannabe is probably already a connoisseur of your local pubs and can accurately name not only which beers are on tap at each bar but also which kinds of whiskey and rum are house favorites for drinks that are supposedly in "Jack and Coke" (Jim and RC?). But even the greatest of connoisseurs don't always know the intricate details of their speciality - for example, when's the last time a wine taster discussed the delicate bouquet of Carlo Rossi? Never, that's when.

So it is with this bar connoisseur. Sure, I know a lot about the bars in town but not those things known as "hipster bars." For the blissfully naive, you might want to know what a hipster is. Well, I've prepared a crash course in hipster-dom below. Warning: this image may not be appropriate for with those with heart conditions:



Additional Warning: Eyes have been shielded to protect the confused.

It's not that I've purposefully avoided this particular segment of the bar scene (ok, that's not true). I avoid it like the plague. Why? Hipsters are possibly the most singularly annoying thing since the Macarena (and at least that was catchy). With their Che T-shirts, thick glasses and overly dramatic sense of everything, hipsters will lecture you on the merits of whatever emo thing they're into and then discuss why they hate mainstream culture (and you specifically) right after. Impromptu crying or slam poetry might also occur.

Well, a very non-hipster friend asked me to come with him a few weeks ago to a bar I've never heard of. While skeptical, I acquiesced ... that was a mistake.

My first clue was the fact that there were lofts advertised as lofts and not condos. Uh oh. I was behind enemy lines, and while we were walking to this place from our cars, I knew that I had gone too far to run screaming back to my car.

Then I saw the first hipster, and they're like cockroaches: if you see one, there's probably thousands more. This one was wearing black waiter pants, carrying some little paperback book and listening to his iPod. To set the scene, I'm almost positive that the little book was Noam Chomsky and the current track was something by Modest Mouse (which, admittedly, I also enjoy).

Then another appeared, and another right after that. Pretty soon I was out of the car and shuffling through a sea of cigarette smoke, weird blue back lighting, dirty pool tables, statues of the Virgin Mary, mohawks, some girl crying her eyes out and a bar literally the size of a ping pong table. Awesome.

My buddy got a 40 of High Life, and I got nothing (no cash and that's all they take). He offered, but I figured drinking would either cause me to say "the truth" or encourage me to drink until entire the experience was pleasurable.

We talked inside for maybe 45 minutes until I was ready to make a B line for the door. By this point, the place was the packed with hipsters or seem to produce in a sort of depressingly asexual manner. To more accurately lay the scene:

- At one pool table there were two hipsters girls and one abnormally normal looking girl. Both of the hipsters had hair that was dyed jet black and wore clog-like shoes and black fishnets (nobody's complaining about the fishnets though). The normal looking girl was wearing jeans (which any hipster can tell you are simple oppression).
- At the bar, there was what might loosely be called a hipster couple (I know that androgyny is popular but this was ridiculous). They were close enough that I could eavesdrop, and they were having a really passive conversation about Sartre.
- While I eavesdropped, another group had bought a bottle of wine and was passing it around. Uh huh...

At this point, I found a quick excuse to leave, and he followed.

"This was fun," he said.

"Uh huh," I replied as I flung everything except my keys into the passenger's seat and slammed on the accelerator to get out of there.

Moral of the story: change can be exciting but have an idea of what you're walking into.

Something I Know Nothing About: Washing Dishes

What I Know About This: Nothing. Ok, that's not entirely true. I know that dishes must inevitably be washed, and that this generally requires some sort of water and soap combination to effectively achieve. But, I don't have a particular strategy. My momma does: she throws it under water and right into the dishwasher. I've generally used that strategy, but my dishwasher is broken for the time being. So tonight, I bit the bullet and tackled my three days worth of dishes the old fashioned way.

And I was stumped. Was their a correct way to do this? Being a studious Renaissance Wannabe, I went to find out.

When You Google "Correct Way to Wash Dishes" you get 558,000 oh so helpful results.

If you were feeling particularly lucky, wisegeek.com offers the following result.

To paraphrase, they recommend three sinks (and I'm screwed with just two): one that has hot water and soap, one with just straight hot water and one with hot water and chlorine. So not only can your dishes get a sauna, they can practice the backstroke too.

Like I said, with just two, I'm screwed.

For the person that requires everything spelled out in ridiculous detail, there's trusty about.com with this result.

For the domestically challenged, here's some tips:

• You must use hot water.
• Yes, hot water. None of this warm water crap.
• Cleaning dishes is a tedious task (that's a great sales pitch by the way).
• Rubber gloves can leave a smell (that's news to me).

Damn it, Google, I'm glad I wasn't feeling lucky.

Seeing that Google AND Google Scholar failed me miserably, I just went to work. Sometimes the good Renaissance Man must know when to say, "screw it" and jump into something.

Where People Do This Activity: The privacy of their own homes where their dirty dishes and laundry are protected from public view.

How to Learn About this Activity: Mom taught me to use dishwashers, but I imagine most people just teach themselves. I started with the bigger plates and dishes and worked my way down to utensils. Little hint: leave knives out of the sink and wash them separately if you fill your sink up with water to wash dishes.

I imagine your local friendly restaurateur could also give you a quick lesson.

Something I Know Related to This Subject: Nothing; I just know how to cook.

The Plan: My dishwasher will be fixed by tomorrow.

New Experience: Texas Hold'Em

Admittedly, I have never been much of a poker player. There's no real reason; I suppose that I had no regular guys to play with and that, of course, is the death knoll of an activity that cannot be played by one's self. But all of this changed a few weeks ago on a trip to Houston to visit an old frat brother.

While we lived relatively close to each other for close to six months, we somehow had never quite made the time to see each other. A few weeks ago, my wife was headed out of town on business, and suddenly I found myself without anything to do. First thought: I'll give my buddy a call. What the hell? Houston could be a fun time. Second thought: Houston's a dump from what I've heard, but hey, he's my brother.

Fortunately, we were free on both ends, and I made plans to leave Austin (my town) and travel the two-and-a-half hour trip out to the coast. On that Friday, I left work a little early and got myself put together and was heading out about four when I called to see what was up. Whiskey and beer had been bought, but we would be saving that until later. First, I was told, we would be playing Hold'em.

Oh shit. I was rusty on seven-card stud, let alone hold'em. So, traveling alongside the Texas countryside, I desperately tried to pull my act together and remember the basic rules. So, I reasoned, there's a high card, two of a kind, two pair and three of kind. What comes after that? I basically sat there in a panic, thinking about every possible awful outcome. What if I was so stupid I'd have to ask my buddy to help out? He might play with these folks every week, and now not only would I look like his dumb frat brother, he'd look like an idiot too. What self respecting man doesn't know poker after all?

Suddenly, before I could worry too much about that particular problem, I hit Houston traffic. They say everything's bigger in Texas and that includes the time you'll sit on a highway waiting for anything to happen. About seven thirty, I found my buddy's place.

I tried to dance around the issue, before I straight up admitted my deficiency in manliness. He kind of laughed before printing out some quick guide.

For those who don't know, Hold'em has essentially the same card combos as seven-card stud. The only difference is how the cards are dealt: instead of dealing all the cards individually, two are dealt at the beginning to each player. The remaining cards are laid down face up in a series of three flops (three during the first and one in each of the remaining). The object is much the same as any other poker game, but instead you've gotta make the best combination you can out of the five face up cards and your two. Whereas seven card stud is all mental, this one's all luck.

Well, we got to the bar, had a few drinks and went to play.

I sucked.

First, I was rusty. Second, the rules of betting were different than I remembered. Third, I had shit luck.

My first hand was a two and a six of different suites. The flop was a queen, jack and nine of different suites. Unless two sixes were in the last two flops, I didn't even have a long-tailed cat's chances in a room full of rocking chairs. Fold. (In case you're curious, the next two were an eight and a three).

My next hand was better, but nevertheless, the bets got too high and the chances two low for me to make a flush. Luckily, I folded, because somebody lost close to a quarter of their cash in that one.

This went on another five or six times - I had another two or three beers. As often happens in that situation, time blurred together.

Then luck finally struck. I had a seven and a second seven appeared in the flop. I raised. The guy next to me - a banker by the looks of it - had already gotten some idea that I was new to this. He raised. The rest called. Another flop came. A six came up. Damn. I called. My neighbor did as well. An African-American gentleman who simply bided his time and made very conversative moves raised. The guy next to him folded. My buddy folded. Then there were three of us.

I called. My neighbor folded. Two of us left.

The pot had roughly half of what I originally started out with plus everyone else's ante from this hand. I raised another 5,000 credits. The guy called. This was it. Either I was going to walk away in a much stronger position or half to bet everything I had on the upcoming hand.

The final flop was turned over. A jack. I had one pair.

I turned over my hand. A pair of sevens sat there as I nervously waited to see his hand. He starred at me, trying to figure me out.

"DAMN!" he exclaimed. One pair: two sixes.

I guess lady luck smiles on all of us after awhile.

I'd like to say that I played one hell of a game after that, but I was a mixture of overconfident and tipsy and ended up going all in on the next hand and found my prospects rapidly dimming until I had a pair and somebody had three of a kind.

The bartender became my new best friend after that.

I'll do a write up on poker later on, but I thought I'd share my most recent new experience as a way to show that I'm actually doing this stuff.

So now we've got the three parts of this blog: stuff I can talk about, stuff I don't know anything about but want to learn and the experiences in which I learn.

Good Times, Good Times.

Something I Know Something About: Bluegrass Music

What is It?: Bluegrass music is an American musical genre descended from English/Irish folk music, centered in Appalachia and noted for distinct use of acoustic instrumentation including acoustic guitars, banjos and fiddlers. Unlike most related music (country), bluegrass allows each instrument to improvise with an accompaniment making it strangely related to jazz (and thus allowing for the existence of Bela Fleck).

Is it awesome?: Yes.

Random Fact: The banjo is a descendant of African instruments - giving the genre of bluegrass yet another connection to soul and jazz.

Commentary: Bluegrass is a recent discovery for me, and it's become a increasingly large section of my iTunes library over the past year. Unfortunately, when most folks think of bluegrass this is there first thought:



















"I is a produkt of da Georgia edjacation system."

Truth be told, bluegrass is considered a legitimate and professional form and has a valuable place in modern music. First thing you've got to know is the history of the genre:

First, bluegrass has three waves, and kind of three resulting sounds. Here are some samples:

First Wave Bluegrass: Bill Monroe's "Into the Pines"



Bill Monroe is almost universally recognized as the father of bluegrass. In fact, when folks were struggling to figure out what to call the genre, they used the name of Monroe's backup band - "the Blue Grass Boys" - as kind of an impromptu name. What made Monroe distinct from say, Johnny Cash? Part of it was the introduction of Earl Scruggs, a late-coming banjo player that developed the Scruggs style of banjo playing: a style requiring picks on the thumb, pointer and middle finger with three-note rolls. This particular style is credited as one of the key characteristics of the style. The Soggy Bottom Boys from the Coen Brother's "Oh Brother Where Art Thou?" is another example.

Second Wave: JD Crowe and the New South's "Tennessee Border"


The second generation obviously pulls a lot from the first, but this was also the beginning of a divergence in the genre and the creation of progressive vs. traditional bluegrass. Progressive might best be exemplified by "Old and in the Way," a progressive bluegrass band featuring as one of its members, Jerry Garcia on banjo. Yeah, imagine that for a second. Fun Times.

Third Generation: Johnson Mountain Boys' "Duncan and Brady"


The third generation is still largely traditional but has just about everybody miked for a change. Another noticeable difference is that a lead guitar has emerged, an import from rock music.

Modern Progressive: Old Crow Medicine Show's "Wagon Wheel"

Old Crow Medicine Show, Yonder Mountain String Band, Railroad Earth, Bela Fleck and the Flecktones and several other modern progressive bluegrass bands pull heavily from both traditional bluegrass and other influences - in fact, some commentators now comment on many of these groups as "grungegrass." This is, by far, the most popular subgenre of bluegrass in modern times and is more likely to incorporate new chords and instruments and further experiment than modern traditionalists. Some songs, specifically the Avett Brother's "Pretty Girl from Chile," openly use chords, instrumentation and melodies from completely different genres - in this case, a decidedly strong Spanish influence.

Will I Continue to Listen to It?: Yes and while I'm decidedly in the progressive camp, I'm definitely not opposed to expanding into the traditional camp.

Name Something Related to Learn More About: Two things: (1) jazz and (2) Jerry Garcia.

Something I Know Nothing About: Golf

What I Know About This:
This might be best illustrated in the following way:

THIS:


GOES INTO THIS:


USING THIS:


IF YOU DID IT WELL, THIS IS SOMEHOW INVOLVED:


THIS GUY IS GOOD AT IT:


Ta da.

Where Do Folks Tend to Do This Activity: Golf courses. I know that there are public and private courses, but beyond the traditional definition of what public and private is, all I know is that both do not usually have open bars at weddings. You'll pay like 12 bucks for a freaking Long Island Ice Tea. That ain't right.

I also know, coincidentally, that Orland Park, IL claims to be the golf course capitol of the world.

How Can You Learn About This Activity: I suppose you gotta know someone that does it - there's usually a good ol' boys club wrapped up in these sort of things. Anybody have any suggestions? I'd honestly like to learn more.

Something You I Something About Related to this Subject: Miniature Golf.

The Plan: My brother plays it pretty regularly, but (i) he lives ridiculously far away and (ii) whenever I'm near him, I'm not near him long enough to master anything, let alone golf. I guess what needs to happen is that I make some friend near me that plays it, but since no one I know runs in that sort of a circle, this could be a challenge. I'll keep you updated.

Something I Know Something About: Tex-Mex Food

What is It?: Delicious. End of Story. Actually, it's a distinct subsection of American food with heavy Mexican influences and includes staples such as tacos, enchiladas, burritos, tamales and a few other standards - most of them not found at your local Taco Bell.

Is it Awesome?: Duh.

Random Fact: Cumin, a staple in Tex Mex seasonings, is not original to Mexican cuisine. Oregano, a staple in Mexican cooking, is not terribly common in Tex Mex cuisine.

Commentary: All I can say is that: Dude, it's awesome. Particularly so if you get it in south or central Texas - anything else is like watching Bjork carry a tune.

Tex Mex tends to be a more versatile subsection of American cuisine, allowing some more variety than you might find in say traditional, Paula Deen southern cooking. Sauces can be altered, recipes can be tweeked, ingredients can be substituted. It can become whatever it needs to be in a matter of minutes - particularly tamales (pronounced with a hard t). And it's hard to screw up so long as it's cooked long enough.

Quick Reference Guide for What Things Means:

Tacos: A kind of base of Tex Mex, tacos are generally made with flour or corn tortillas and meat filling
Burritos: A wrapped kind of taco with everything enclosed in the tortilla
Enchiladas: Burritos with sauce served on top (like an open faced sandwich)
Chimmichangas: Fried burritos
Tamales: A combination of masa (a corn product) and some sort of savory filling (usually cheese, meat or both) bound by a corn husk and steamed to heat (don't eat the husk)

Will I Do It Again?: So long as I live and breathe.

Name Something Related To Learn Something About: Ranches.

Pobody's Nerfect or Perfection Ain't Easy

Nobody's perfect - haven't you heard this mantra enough in your life? Every time some mistake is made anywhere, what's the excuse readily offered? Nobody's perfect. While the provocation is always different, the response is always the same: Nobody's perfect therefore you're not perfect and, worst of all, I'm not perfect.

Well, I'm sick of it.

So I decided to try something different: I'm not going to accept my limitations as gospel truth.

Instead of resigning myself to being a specialist in a few subjects in the millions contained in human knowledge, I'm going to expand myself into as many as possible. Instead of relishing the few similar experiences I go through everyday, I'm going to throw myself into unknown situations left and right. Instead of - well, being just me - I'm going to try to become a modern Renaissance Man, able to converse in and adapt to even the most extreme situations with the utmost ease.

Why? To see if it's possible. How? Fuzzy on those details. By When? Dunno.

All I know for sure is that I have to set some grounds rules for myself in this little experiment, but I'm not even sure that I know how to write those. So, I figure we'll write (and right) 'em as we go. But, if you start out with nothing, you'll get nothing. That being said, I did decide upon initial one ground rule:

1. Be Curious: Ask, take invitations, etc. To expand, you've gotta put yourself in areas way outside your expertise (and indulge at least a little in some areas of expertise). So that's rule number one.

So here's the deal: take this journey with me. Give me ideas, keep me accountable and most of all, adopt this journey as your own. Learning never stops, bettering yourself is never unacceptable. Your only limit is the farthest flung things your mind can think of.

Let's get started.