Friday, January 30, 2009

Draft Magazine Article

         After receiving several hundred emails concerning the rumors of a Union Beer Co. article I will now formally address them. Yes, Union Beer Co. is having a write up in the upcoming March 2009 issue of Draft Magazine, a nationally published magazine celebrating beer and beer culture. I have been in contact with Editor-in-Chief Erika Rietz and she gave me permission to post a preview of the 25,000 word piece on this here blog. “It is perhaps the greatest of the beer blogs,” she exclaimed, “I would be honored to have the article previewed on the site. I am so very jealous of your literary skills.” I would like to express my gratitude to Mrs. Rietz for allowing me to post this excerpt from her magazine. So, without further a due, a sneak preview for those of you who cannot wait another month.

 

Prodigy Men or Prodigal Sons?

Inside the World of Two of Americas Hottest Young Brewers

 

By Kimberly Kaye

 

           

            It is late Friday evening in the Nob Hill neighborhood of Portland, Oregon. I sit uncomfortably on a couch watching two grown men dance around in a state of ecstasy wearing shiny, silver suits and Brandon Roy sneakers (of which I was constantly reminded of throughout the night). A mid-90s hip-hop song by the name of “More Money More Problems” is blaring from the speaker, loud enough that I can barely hear the two men screaming, “Throw your Rollies in the sky! Wave them side to side!” at each other. As the song winds down the two high five and one of them takes a seat next to me.

            “Did you know Brandon Roy can breath underwater?” he asks.

            The two grown men are Peter Stephens and Evan Trapp, co-founders of one the most promising breweries in America, Union Beer Co. After all of the write-ups on the magic and genius of the Union Beer Co. brews, I expected the two founders to be somewhat like the Leonardo DiCaprio portrayal of Howard Hughes in the movie “The Aviator,” in which the troubled eccentric genius Hughes is constantly pushing the presumed boundaries of aviation while battling his inner demons. Instead, the brewers appear somewhat like another cinematic figure portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio: Arnie in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.”

            The night had begun innocent enough. We first met up at a Laurelwood Brewpub near their house to try a new Black IPA. Trapp had been raving about this seasonal beer on tap.

            “You know, they plagiarized this Black IPA,” claimed Stephens. “It was our idea, and than Laurelwood plagiarized it.”

            Either Stephens was blatantly lying or he did not understand what the word “plagiarize” meant. I lean towards the latter since the next day he described a slam-dunk by their beloved Brandon Roy as “plagiarizing (the opponent’s) face.”

            The conversation soon turned towards the exploding microbrew scene occurring in their hometown. The two seemed appreciative of many of their elder brewers, but would only get seriously passionate about a brewery when they disliked them.

            “Pyramid? Are you (explicit deleted) kidding me?” Stephens fumed. “Pyramid? I mean, Pyramid? You’ve got to be (explicit deleted) me!”

            Not surprisingly, they especially expressed their disdain for Roots Brewing. The two companies have spared continuously in the media recently, leading to what some are calling a “Beer War.”

            “Is it a Beer War?” Asked Trapp. “You are (explicit deleted) right it’s a mother (explicit deleted) Beer War! Can you believe those clowns had the gall to say we don’t care about our carbon footprint?! Of course we care about our carbon footprint! And, just like our brewery, we want it to be the biggest and the baddest carbon footprint all of carbon footprints!”

            While somewhat ridiculous, this statement does hold up much merit. Trapp had recently trademarked the slogan: “Union Beer Co.: The Sasquatch of the Carbon Footprint World.”

            “Roots is so lame,” Stephens chimed in as he began to fake a Jamaican accent, “Roots-a Brewing, mon. ‘Ey, mon! I got-a ‘da dreadlocks, mon. No woman no cry, mon!” I questioned Stephens if he thought the Jamaican accent was a tad racist. "Of course not, those (explicit deleted)-holes are both white!"

            After Laurelwood we headed down towards the great Willamette River and found ourselves at the herald Deschutes Brewpub tasting their epic, The Abyss, recently named to last months Top 25 Beer List by our editors. I made the dreaded mistake of mentioning this to Stephens and Trapp.

            “And we aren’t on the (explicit deleted) list?”

            I informed them that the tastings for the list had been completed several weeks prior to Union Beer Co.’s public opening. We had not even heard of the company yet, let alone taste their beer.

            “Well, go back a revise the (explicit deleted) list! You stupid (explicit deleted)!”

            This verbal attack was soon followed by Stephens emphatically firing me in front of the entire bar. I informed him I was not a part of his company but it was no use. The patrons cheered and Trapp got them to do a rousing chant of “Bran-don-Roy! M-V-P!” I suggested we go to another, quieter pub to talk beer.

         "McFadden's it is!"

          While McFadden's was not quite what I had in mind, the lively conversation on brewing I had wanted finally came to life. The next day, both Stephens and Trapp claimed not remembering going to McFadden's, but that night they delivered some of the most memorable speeches on brewing I had ever heard. It was a night I will never forget, and, undoubtedly, will go down as one of the most historic nights in the history of brewing...

(end of except)




Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Official Founder Photo

I feel it is my obligation to warn you before you scroll down and view the rest of this bloggy-post thing. The warning is this: the founders of Union Beer Co. are unbelievably beautiful. So beautiful that at some point while reading this post you are going to think you are looking at some sort of hot guy nudey pics site. How hot are we, you ask? So hot we've been seduced by Mayor Sam Adams... twice. (Take that Beau Breedlove, or whatever your real name is.) We informed Mr. Adams that, while flattered, we are not homosexuals. We then offered him a Red Roses for Me ale but were recently informed that, typical of Adams, he could not wait until the bottle was fully-aged to give it a taste. (Be sure to tip your waitresses, folks!) 

I give you this warning because this post consist of out-takes from the Official Union Beer Co. Founders photo shoot. At first, the shoot was extremely professional and elegant. We raised the flag of our glorious country, we lit a nice fire to create a comforting setting, and we straightened our designer ties preparing for what deemed to be a sophisticated photo shoot. But put two good-looking guys in front of a camera and their inherent modeling tendencies are sure to come out!

The importance of the Official Founders Photo is huge. We want a photo that says, "Hey, kid. How old are you? What's that you say? 21? Put down that 40 and bong and come have a drink with us!" It is also very important from a PR standpoint. We can all remember the "nipple-gate" PR fiasco that happened with Dick and Nancy Ponzi at the Super Bowl Halftime a few years ago. Their Official Founders photo was plastered all over newspapers across America. Though I have to say after seeing the Halftime performance, Nancy was looking pretty good for her age.

So here are some out-takes, building dramatically towards the unveiling of the Official Union Beer Co. Founders photo! Enjoy!



This is an early shot. You can see how professional we look. And you can also see the BRoy Nikes, intentionally placed in the shot. It shows how we are "dope" with the kids. I like this shot, but I feel it doesn't quite capture the sassiness of the founders.



Here's a shot where the fire was getting a bit out of hands. The last thing we want is a burning American flag in the background of the Official photo. Good thing both founders had their BRoys on to protect us from all harm.



Ah oh... did someone say, "Switch positions?"



Now that's the sass I was talking about!



How about a glass of Union Beer Co.? Yes, please...



This would have to be second place in the final votes. Very sassy. Very warm. Very inviting. Maybe a little too warm and inviting. The sass level is about right.



God bless America!



This will be our official photo once Brandon Roy returns our phone calls.




This is our "Just getting off work" look. You can be sure this shot was followed by Alex searching for Lady Gaga or Kevin Rudolf On-demand.



This one may be a bit too celebratory. We will use this as our official photo once we put Roots Brewing out of business. They are our brewing opposites. We are proudly zero-percent organic and use absolutely nothing sustainable. In fact, for every bottle of Union Beer Co. we brew Peter randomly chops down a tree and laughs maniacally while we drive away in our Hummer.



The double point is always good. But I think it may be a bit too aggressive. Plus we are smiling. So it's like we are joyously intimidating you. I'm not sure if that is what we want to convey.



Now we started to get a bit out of control. I don't know why but I feel like this picture could be a 1984 album cover for The Cars. Just me?



And now, the moment you have all been waiting for,
The Official Union Beer Co. Founders photo:
A bit sass. A bit intimidation. A bit inviting. A bit flirtatious. A bit perfect.

Email us if you want the Official Union Beer Co. Founders 2009 Calendar. 

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Red Roses for Me

As days go by, so do the last of the Red Roses for Me. An ale like this should not leave this world unrecognized. With that, we offer this.


Red Roses for Me

An Ale’s Eulogy

            Poor Paddy had lost his way. Drifting is easier to do when this happens. But drifting is not a happening one should wish easy to do. In tiny limbs Paddy was content. In larger limbs he was confused. An evening in a pub. Like never before. Poor Paddy had lost his way.

            “Another pint for Poor Paddy?” Asked the publican O’Patrick.

            “Please,” Poor Paddy mumbled. Feigning pleasantries. He had forgot to put on his left shoe that morning. Instead of turning around to retrieve the shoe Poor Paddy plodded on. Walking the dirty downtown streets with one shoe. Children had noticed. One shoe! Had you ever seen such a thing?

            “Why’d you put on only one shoe, Poor Paddy?” Asked the publican O’Patrick earlier that day. “D’ya favor one foot over the other?”

            Paddy cleared his throat and smirked. “Of course not. I simply thought that while my life is uneven my gait must be too.”

            “Faith. That’s a silly thing, is it not Poor Paddy?”

            “Faith to you, fine sir. Silly is a guise. While the truth. Well. The truth is a pancake.”

            Poor Paddy had lost his way.

            His girl Sal had gone. She was pleasant. Her hair was like a comfort Paddy forgot to thank. She had soft smooth skin and a warm treat bellow her belly. But she had grown tired of Poor Paddy and his predictably piss poor ways.

            “Why don’t you get a job, Poor Paddy?” Sal would ask after she pleaded with him to bath his putrid body.

            “A job would mean I would have to early wake. To early wake would mean I would have to early sleep. To early sleep would mean I would have to be home. To be home would mean I would have to leave the pub. To leave the pub would mean I would have to be sober. And to be sober. Well. Quite frankly. To be sober is something that I am not prepared to encounter yet.”

            His girl Sal had gone. And with her took the only string of normalcy in his life. This is not a bad thing to lose a single string of normalcy. But to lose the only string of normalcy you have is paralysis. The rug will be pulled. The curtain drawn. Yet his girl Sal still loved him so.

            “Another pint for Poor Paddy?”

            “Please.”

            O’Patrick, the publican, sympathized with Poor Paddy. He had seen many a man lose everything. Only to gain some back and to take some away at his pub.

            “Would you like a Red Ale this time Poor Paddy? It is said to heal a man’s heart.”

            “Please, fine sir.”

            “White collar?”

            Poor Paddy feigned a smile. “Could any other be worth?”

            O’Patrick poured his man Paddy a pint. It frothed in the glass. And bloomed in the nostrils. And would ease the belly. And satisfy the heart.

            Poor Paddy eyed the rest of the pub. Two drunks. A young couple. College boys.  None ever was or will be as happy as Poor Paddy had once been. He drank the pint and insisted on none other. Poor Paddy stood and said a prayer.

            “May the Lord God remember in His Kingdom. Our Holy universal Supreme Pontiff MacGowan. The Pope of Rome, our most reverend Archbishop and Metropolitan Behan. And our God loving Bishop O’Brien. And the entire priestly, diaconal, and monastic order. Our civil authorities. And all our armed forces. The noble and ever memorable founders and benefactors of this holy Church. Our suffering brethren. And all you believers. Always. Now and ever. And forever.”

            O’Patrick watched Poor Paddy curiously.

            “The doors. The doors. In wisdom let us be attentive. Absolve. We beseech Thee, O Lord, the soul of Thy servant Poor Paddy. From every bond of sin. That being raised in the glory of the resurrection. He may be refreshed among the Saints and Elect. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

            The two drunks stood.

            “Amen”

            O’Patrick laughed.

            “What was that Poor Paddy? Sunday School memoirs?”

            Poor Paddy sat. Gesturing for a new pint.

           

            Now.

           

            He lost

           

            himself.

           

            A flutter of angels took him by the hand. Leading him into the backroom. Poor Paddy collapsed. He was greeted by a jug. He unscrewed the top and sipped. The jug shattered in his hands. A serpent slithered from the broken pieces. 

   "What is this, Poor Paddy?" Asked the publican O'Patrick from his pondering position.

   Poor Paddy began to cry. It wasn’t fair. His left arm trembled uncontrollably. A shiver shot up the spine of the serpent. It tweaked. Where had his shoe gone? Don’t laugh. Poor Paddy was sailing up the shit stream in a boat without a sail pitifully holding up a sail without a boat. He was sailing without a left shoe, too. He stopped pouting. He prayed. He laughed. He gasped for a breath. Finally, he gave up.

   "Poor Paddy. Poor Paddy."

   Poor Paddy asked for forgiveness. A breeze met his face with a comfort. He turned back towards the watering room. And in the doorway. Well. In the doorway. Stood his girl Sal. And in her hands. She stood.

           

            With a bunch

           

            of  Red Roses

           

            for Me.



Monday, January 19, 2009

Top 10 D'Angelo Joints

Every once in awhile greatness manifests itself. No one knows when, where or how. But to celebrate the greatness of Union Beer Co. one must celebrate all greatness. Listen closely children, here is our first installment of GREATNESS KNOWS GREATNESS.

The Top 10 D'Angelo Joints
Yes, the "R'n'B Jesus" only has two albums out but the magnitude of the two releases cannot be emphasized enough. Neo-soul's Patriarch on Cocaine. Soul Brother Number Two. He really can't be blamed for the lackluster development of Neo-soul (I'm looking at you John Legend). He was busy getting "HIGHER". Let's start the list kids.

10) "Alright"
Following the smoothness of our #1 on the man's debut album, "Alright" feels just right. Coming from a man who's life has been trapped in addiction and demons, "Alright" offers not only the listener but the tormented speaker some solace and peace if only for five minutes and sixteen seconds. 

9) "Sh*t, Damn, Motherf*cker"
The ultimate revenge song... so long as you are planning on going to jail for murder. "Why are you sleeping with my woman?" D' croons in a way that can be described as content, not angry, with the situation and the untimely end of his woman and his best friend. "Why the both of you bleeding so much?" Sinister.


8) "Untitled (How Does It Feel)"
Remember, this list is about the song, not the video.


7) "Higher"
D'Angelo gets all gospel on our asses during the final track on his debut. But, don't you worry, you can still easily get down to this tune. And unlike Al Green getting gospel on his final track on "Call Me," this spiritual experience works for both the body and the soul.


6) "Feel Like Makin' Love"
Roberta who? Just kidding, of course. But the opening drum from Ahmir "?uestlove" Thompson may even make Ms. Flack start to blush.


5) "Lady"
With the #5 track on our list we truly enter greatness. From the pop-teen to the soul-connoisseur, no other D' joint can get the entire party started like "Lady". I'll tell you what really makes this song: the smooth stab of the keyboards emphasizing the chord progression. This type of keyboard player usually results in Nintendo-type corniness, but, by God, he wouldn't be known as the "R'n'B Jesus" if he didn't make greatness from the traditional.


4) "One Mo'gin"
What seems at first like a typical "Voodoo" track turns into one of the best hooks D' every sang. The song comforts you on the album, giving you just what you think you want (a song with a smooth beat, love/sexy lyrics). But the hook takes it above and beyond. And not in a loud-soft-loud way either. Just shut up and listen.


3) "I Found My Smile Again"
It's a shame that there aren't more D'angelo non-album tracks. But for the few that are out there, "I Found My Smile Again" is the best. So good that it earns its place as #3 on this prestigious list. D' raises the soul of one his his idols, Prince ( especially with uncanny ability to sound like The Purple One counting "One... Two... One Two Three" at the beginning, am I right?) and, like "Alright," it offers the listener solace in a mad world, if only for the time being.


2) "Devil's Pie"
If ever a song had the ability to express a conflicted soul, this is it. All I really want to do is display the chorus and argue it is a beautiful piece of poetry written by a modern-day John Donne.
 Fuck the slice we want the pie
Why ask why till we fry
Watch us all stand in line
For a slice of the devil's pie
Drugs and thugs womeN wine
Three or four at a time
Watch them stand all in line
For a slice of the devil's pie



1) "Brown Sugar"
Could we really make an argument for another #1? Enjoy!

Monday, January 12, 2009

A Civilized Discourse

We here at Union Beer Co. are firm believers in the advancement of not only the mind but also the body and, most pointedly, the soul. In recent years, with the internet and its so-called "message boards," we have become discouraged with the youth of the day and their hideously tainted lingo. No longer have laughs been simply implied in the sentence (or explicitly implied in the predictably stale use of the exclamation point), but laughing has now become abbreviated degrees. From the LOL to the ROFL, abbreviated laughing has become so commonplace that one may fear the human intellect has forever been tarnished. We here at Union Beer Co. still hold out hope.
One may now ask, "What does this have to do with brewing and your first blog post?" Another may ask, "You guys are so hot! Can we go out on a date?" I will address only the former, while the ladder shall be implied with a wink...
Union Beer Co. and its massive intelligence has now undergone a transformation from a bustling home-brew crew to an international and cyber-spacial dimension of brewing threatening to destroy any unworthy beers along its way towards world domination. (Grant Rhodes currently heads the International Division of Union Beer Co., so we are allowed to say "international." You can't sue us, Larry Miller.) With that being said, within our first "blog" mind you, Union Beer Co. is now attempting to branch out and save these lost youths of everlasting youth from the clutches of "message board dopiness". Upon thinking of the proper measures to take, we decided that baby-steps would be the most efficient method to begin the saving process. All of this now behind us, I would now like to introduce you to the first of many "A Civilized Discourse: Chatting with the CEOs":

Akon vs. T-Pain
Peter: akon>t-pain
Evan: ROFLMAO! akon iz wack! booo
Peter: u wack, foo
Evan: t pain iz a genious. 1st cant buhlieve it, den chopped n screwed nah freez. he iz da ring leader man
Peter: that's on of the best song i've ever heard and i think i'm listened all of akon's songs
Evan: oh yh and hu r u?
Peter: lol yur so racist.
Evan: lots of love lol <3
Peter:  gimme autotune and i could sound like him! pain a jokoe and without effects he wouldnt gotten anywhere.
Evan: this song makes to many memories 1st kiss 1st boyfriends 1st everything!!!!!11
Peter:  autotune. nuff saidd. t pain=trash
Evan: T PAIN RULEZ
("Bartender" by T-Pain & Akon begins to blare.)
Peter: ...
Evan: T Pai and akon foreva!!!!!!
Peter: LOL!!!!11 without Akon this would be useless..... cuz akons part is da best!

And that concludes our first of many Civilized Discourses. We hope that by using YouTube comments to express our affection towards Akon and T-Pain we have begun to bridge the gap between the plebeian Bud Light drinker and the much more refined Red Roses for Me lady and gentleman. 
Until next time, 
Slante Portland! 
Union Beer Co.