The Bowdoin Orient

Paul Barber?Face of SmuttyNose IPA and Man of Infinite Wisdom. Spring is here. But enough about the weather. As classes come to an end and reading period begins, it is important for all of us to get our priorities straight and prepare for the long road of finals ahead. This is why I enlisted the help of Paul Barber for this week's article. Mr. Barber holds his faded jeans up with a big gold belt buckle that says "Aloha." His eyebrows are bushier than a Chia Pet on Miracle-Gro and his love for Bowdoin lacrosse rivals his love for good beer, which, incidentally, has landed him squarely in a patio chair on the label for SmuttyNose IPA. Clearly, this guy has his priorities straight.

BootLeggers Beverage Warehouse. It often amazes me that in Boston you can't buy booze in gas stations. But here in Maine you're far more likely to head to your local 7-Eleven for a fill-up on Natty Light than for gas. Just the other week, coming back from an interview in Beantown, I pulled off to a Mobil to fill up on Bull Ice and was appalled when the sales clerk told me I should settle for a pomegranate seltzer water instead. Not in Maine. Here, kegs are delivered right to your doorstep and finding an aestival respite from the heat is as easy as locating the nearest neighborhood hard lemonade stand (50 cents!). Booze in Maine is sold like knock-off Louis Vuitton bags in Chinatown: It's not a question of where to find it, but rather where to find it cheapest. Welcome to Maine: The way life should be, baby.

Long Trail Blackberry Wheat?$7.95 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market When I was little (by little, I mean before I graduated from high school), I approached each night's family meal like a general going into battle. As my mom prepared the meal, I would slink around the kitchen, scouting out what villainous vegetable dish was destined to make my otherwise glorious meal miserable. After I was done with the good stuff, I spread the remaining vegetable medley across my plate as thin as a pancake, in hopes that my mom would not notice and instead think that there had been a new, rainbow-colored plate added to her collection.

The Top Five Alcohol-Induced Procrastination Techniques. I think I'm going to stop trying to comment on the weather for a while. It has become pretty clear that Maine is going to take its sweet time arriving at spring, and that time is not today, nor is it likely to be tomorrow. Regardless of how it feels outside, however, the fact remains that this school year is coming to a hasty conclusion. As the days tick off the calendar faster than a snowstorm can drop six inches, the art of procrastination will inevitably become more prevalent in our everyday lives. While many people frown upon such idle dawdling, I think procrastination is merely our body's way of telling us that it's not quite ready to get the job done. So I say listen to your body, grab a Natty Lite, and indulge yourself in The Top Five Alcohol-Induced Procrastination Techniques of "Spring" 2007.

J.W. Dundee's Amber Lager and Honey Brown Lager?$4.99 each at Hannaford Growing up in Maine, I have become accustomed to weather that often proves more mercurial than a two-year-old left at home with the babysitter. One second he's humming "Yankee Doodle Dandy," and the next he's screaming bloody murder. So it is, we have seen, with the weather, as we have all just experienced the first Bowdoin College snow day since Woodstock?and the first in April since that Safe Ride down to 'Shua's was pulled by a team of horses.

Spring Heat Spiced Wheat?$8.35 for a six-pack at Hannaford The T-shirts, flip-flops, and (best of all) skirts are coming out. Despite the drastic increase of frostbitten toe cases at the health center, I fully endorse this conscious forcing of Mother Nature's hand?as ridiculous as it may seem in the early stages of post-Spring Break in Brunswick, Maine. My logic, however, requires a little explanation. Normally, life doesn't reward conscious preparedness. Throw some change in your pocket in the morning to make life a little easier, and everything you buy will undoubtedly come out to perfect dollar increments.

Beer Fever has the flu. Now, I'm not talking a runny nose and a little muscle ache here. This is the kind of flu where I'm dripping sweat walking through a snowstorm in a T-shirt and absolutely freezing on the third floor of the library.

"Unclassy" Beer?Sold cheap. Everywhere. Ever since blindly stumbling upon the "Beer Fever with Weaver" crown at the beginning of the year, my life has changed in a number of significant ways: some good, some not so much. To begin?though admittedly flattering?it is a little hard to get my beauty sleep while throngs of autograph-seeking high school girls camp outside my room at night and take turns reciting their names with "Weaver" longingly attached to the end. Similarly annoying, around campus it seems that my name is slowly morphing into simply "Beer Fever"?as opposed to "Weaver" or (gasp!) "Alex."

Andrew's English Pale Ale?$7.95 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market On mornings when I awake to that familiar glare of blinding snow through the window shades and the sound of snowplows backing down for another go at the street outside, I am often struck by the perpetual and unrelenting constancy of nature. No matter what we do, or don't do, nature is always doing something around us. Though many of you are cursing every innocent snowflake that hits the ground, bear in mind that with driving winds and 12 inches of snow come some unmistakable advantages as well. Now we all know this is leading to beer one way or another, so why don't I cut to the chase and offer the punch line (before I digress into the many benefits of schooling in a wintry wonderland): We all knew that a whopper of a snowstorm was coming eventually, so now that it's here, I find it fitting to offer Andrew's English Pale Ale, a beer brewed exclusively in Maine, because it is important to remember while trudging to class that there's a far more pleasant and tasty piece of Maine waiting for you back in your fridge.

Negra Modelo?$9.15 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market Two weeks ago, I stressed the importance of putting the reconnection with friends high on the list of things to do upon returning from Winter Break. Now that the hollow "so how was your break" questions have all been asked, the icy kegs tapped, and the preliminary open bars (classily) attended, what stands chief atop the priority hill now? Why, Spring Break, of course!

Upon returning from a semester in Athens, Greece, I was confronted with a phenomenon that I wasn't quite ready for. Being old for my grade, turning 21 was nothing new to me. But fall 2005 was when a number of friends arrived at this milestone. To ring in this joyous occasion, said friends decided that an open bar would be the way to celebrate.

Natural light & Natural Ice—$75.00 each per keg I think one of most tragic tendencies of college students nationwide is the degree to which we take for granted the early weeks of each semester. With Winter Break now safely behind us, the freshmen have had sufficient time to catch up with the rest of us in realizing just how miserable midterms and finals can be. But with this newfound knowledge comes newfound responsibility. Now, if you think I'm stressing the importance of hard work now to soften the impending scholarly blows later, you are wholly missing the point and I think it would be better for both of us if you saved copies of this paper for those who deserve it and brushed up on your inorganic chemistry.

Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale?$9.70 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market I'm chalking up last week's article in the win column. I do this for two reasons besides the psychological advantage it gives me heading into finals period: First, I received an e-mail from the great guys over at Red Bull, who informed me that my article is being passed around their office faster than we'll be dish ing out Colby slurs at tonight's hockey game. In fact, they liked it so much, they're currently under negotiation with the makers of Natural Light to create a Natural Bull product line, complete with action figures, lunchboxes, and that elusive five-pack (because it doesn't really count as drinking until you've knocked back that sixth).

The Natural Bull?$2.90 for...errr...one at Uncle Tom's Market. Drastic times call for drastic measures. With finals bearing down and the hours logged in at the library increasing daily, it is safe to say that these are indeed drastic times. Now I know everyone is feeling the same pressure that I am to get their work done so they can enjoy a restful, well-deserved Winter Break. But just to put things into perspective before we depart, bear with me for a second.

Gritty's Christmas Ale?$8.35 for a six-pack at Hannaford When I was little, I couldn't figure out what all the Thanksgiving fuss was about. I just couldn't discern what was so fantastic about getting all excited and waiting all day for a bunch of food that was prepared by people other than my own mother. I mean, what do I care if Aunt What's-Her-Face has brought her famous asparagus custard? Part of it, I think, was because my mother's food is just too damn good to care what someone else has to offer.

Harpoon Winter Warmer?$8.25 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market Picture this: It is a Friday night in mid-November. You are sitting in your room, doodling on the margins of your problem set. The sky is overcast and spitting something that looks white but soaks you through like rain. Inside, you're huddled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around your feet, heater clunking and emitting random puffs of lukewarm air. The power goes out, the TV blinks off, and any chance you had at comfort flies out the window to join the icy winter air. Fed up, you throw on your mittens and grab a beer (can't let those get warm). Popping the cap floods your nostrils with sweet cinnamon and mild nutmeg. You smile and envision Christmas Eve dinner and your brand new pony. One taste and you're up on the coffee table, jumping around to the Mariah Carey in your head and screaming "Dance Party!"

St. Pauli Girl Lager?$8.25 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market. Recently, while doing research for my honors thesis on the early stages of advanced senioritis, I was perusing my latest edition of "You're a Stud!" magazine when a familiar and enticing advertisement caught my eye. The page was completely black but for a gorgeous woman, whose body and tight dress are comprised of golden, bubbly beer, and her hair of dripping and full-bodied foam. She is standing in a sassy "oh-no-you-didn't" pose: hands on hips, thigh bent, head cocked. The slogan, leading right into the neck of a bottle of St. Pauli Girl Lager, seemingly takes the words right out of her (and my) mouth: "You never forget your first girl." It is with this image in mind that I made my most recent trip to Uncle Tom's Market.

Samuel Adams Winter Lager? $7.99 for a six-pack at Hannaford By a show of hands, how many of you faithful readers are coming off a miserable week? I'm talking a week so bad that each meal feels like a mini Christmas and Friday's "Beer Fever with Weaver" (OK, fine, or Thursday's "Grey's Anatomy") is like the light at the end of the tunnel of infinite graded assessments. Five hands just shot up in my apartment, and considering I live in a quad, I'm going to assume that this past week just wasn't that much fun for anyone.

Gritty McDuff's Halloween Ale?$8.99 for a six-pack at Hannaford By now, it is safe to say that fall is in the air. With peak foliage already past and the amount of popped collars increasing daily (we'll chalk those up to the wind), I can't help but think of days gone by, when visions of inventive costumes and candy-stuffed pillowcases danced greedily through my head.

Samuel Adams' Cherry Wheat?$8.35 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market By now, we all know that Uncle Tom's is a little odd. Among the fake arms, '80s sunglasses and tasteful magazines, I was starting to wonder if there was anything in there worthy of writing about. Don't get me wrong. I like electrocuting my friends with fake pieces of gum just as much as the next guy. But seriously, who chews Doublemint these days anyway?

Morland Brewing Co.'s Old Speckled Hen?$10.25 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's I just finished an exam. I handed in a paper yesterday and I have a quiz tomorrow. I also need to figure out what I am doing with my life after Bowdoin, and fast. Maybe I should go to the library or the CPC? I think instead I'll go to Uncle Tom's and revolutionize the way beer critics everywhere write their weekly reviews. I wasn't able to hold my traditional beer-tasting session last night (I told you, it's been a rough week). So instead, I'm going to go make a spontaneous and ill-informed beer purchase and write about my new beer while I try it for the first time. This is going to be ingenious. Then again, this could also suck.

Kennebec River Brewery Magic Hole I.P.A: $7.99 for a six-pack at Hannaford. As I scoured rack after mouthwatering rack for this week's beer of choice, an enticing label caught my eye. Most of the time, an interesting logo, bottle, or packaging is all it takes to pique my interest. Hell, I'll try anything once. When the label happens to feature a fearless rafting group heading into a huge swell beneath a snow-capped mountain and a grinning sun with arms pointing at a mug of heady amber ale, well, I'm as good as sold. Couple the label with the location of the beer's manufacturer?Kennebec River Brewery?and you've got yourself the potential for a great new local beer. Now, if only the beer tasted as good as its packaging looked...

Shipyard Pumpkinhead Ale: $7.99 for a six-pack at Hannaford Last Thanksgiving, I had the unique pleasure of visiting my girlfriend in Prague, where we were treated to an incredible traditional Thanksgiving spread complete with an enormous turkey and all the fixings. Surprisingly enough, however, it was not the food that made this Thanksgiving so distinctive and unforgettable?it was the beer.

Magic Hat Circus Boy - ($7.95 for a six-pack at Uncle Tom's Market) As the summer months fade and all eyes turn towards fall, most jovial beer drinkers can only sigh as their beloved summer ales begin to leave the shelves and empty out of taps everywhere. I suffered this exact fate just Tuesday night at Sea Dog, when the bartender could offer me only a Red Ale rather than my usual Summer Wheat. Instead of fits of rage and bouts of profanity, I offered him a simple smile and a $5 bill.