I’m a lover, not a fighter. And this is where I don’t make the requisite Michael Jackson joke (from whence that line comes). I’m simply talking about beer.

When I first tried beer, I hated it. A small sip of my father’s Michelob Lite in early childhood impressed upon me that beer was indeed uncarbonated moose pee. Not that there really would be any need to carbonate it. I’m just saying…

Anyway, I never touched the stuff again until freshman year in college, where I went for a Killian’s. In retrospect I could have done much, much worse. But still, the first step was taken on many a year’s journey into the depths of terribly bad, bad beer. With stops in MaltLiquorville, Nattytown, Free-keg-asomethinberg and WarmFourtyopolis, I never really knew good beer. It was cheap, and I slowly learned to like what little taste could actually be extracted from them. And then I went to Dublin.

Har har, the joke is that I’m Irish, so I’m supposed to like anything remotely Irish, right? The truth is, though, that across the pond beer is actually taken seriously. My first pint of Guinness was served in a pint glass, with a shamrock formed into the head (produced by the bartender who knew how to properly pour a stout—back then I didn’t even know what a ‘stout’ was though, besides my ancestor’s physiological body type). The Guinness that hit my throat was possibly the best thing I had ever tasted. And it’s because it had character. Henceforth, I could never stop talking about how good the Guinness in the UK was. Ask my friends, I’m sure they’re tired of hearing about it by now.

And though my undergraduate ways continued, even after graduation and first jobs, beer in the US still never really did anything for me. I still drank it, but tended to go for Scotch instead, because it had the flavor, the distinct personality that I was looking for. With beer I was still just trying to convince myself that it wasn’t uncarbonated moose pee.

About a year and a half ago I stumbled upon a few people who were into homebrewing their own beer. Intrigued by the process (as I am with anything else process related), I was curious about all the different styles of beer they discussed and more importantly, why they were so passionate about this stuff. So I came back to beer, to give it one more shot.

Though I don’t remember “the beer that changed my mind,” I’m pretty sure it was either from Rogue or Great Lakes Brewing Company. I was taken away by the body, the taste and the complexity. I was dumbfounded that beer could be this flavorful (in the US, of course). I made a promise to myself that anytime I had to pick up a 6-pack, for a party, get-together, etc, that I would not get the same thing twice. I needed to try all the styles I could. So for about a year I tried, all the while waiting to get my hands dirty and make some myself, all the while still shocked that beer didn’t have to be uncarbonated moose pee.

There really is a substantial point to this blabbering, windbag post, but I should break it up to retain any sense of readership. You know, those two people are crucial to the future of denyingphoenix (Hi two readers!)…