2008 Glen: Day 3

Why not enlarge the thin verge of the moment
–Carl Dennis, “Sarit Narai”

T-11 Oatmeal Stout

Brewed December 14, 2007.

After two failed batches, I thoroughly cleaned all equipment, got some fresh yeast, and procured an ingredient kit from Grape and Granary. Let’s get back on solid ground, I said. Having had a great summer of pale ales, I wanted something different, so here we are at an oatmeal stout. Besides, it should be well conditioned and ready to drink for St. Patrick’s.

The one innovation I tried on this batch concerned the steeping of grains. When brewing with malt extracts, specialty grains are usually tied up in a muslin sock of some sort and allowed to soak before adding the extract to the water. The purpose is to extract the color and flavors of the specially kilned grains. Taking a page from my coffee brewing, I thought that rather than smoosh up the grains in a tiny sack, I’d like to allow the grains full reign of the brew kettle. Using the nylon bag from the Pumpkin Ale, I allowed the grains and oatmeal to float about freely.

A fun surprise of the steeping was that the oatmeal created a thick wort that glooped and gurgled during the steep.

Ingredients
As this is a G&G recipe, I won’t be posting the exact recipe so as to protect their interests.

Grain Bill

• Flaked Oats
• 2-Row Pale Malt (I asked John about using PM grain in an extract brew, and he explained that the oatmeal requires certain enzymes in the PM to properly contribute to the stout.)
• Black Barley
• Chocolate malt
• Roasted Barley

Hops
Being a fairly traditional stout, there was only a simple bittering hop addition using Horizon.

Yeast
Used Wyeast 1028, London Ale

The Numbers
O.G. 1.064
F.G. 1.018
ABV: 6.01
IBU: 44.3

Tasting Notes
The brew pours a satisfying black with a slight roasty aroma. The taste is also quite roasty and smooth. If there’s anything on the down side, it’s that I’m really not certain what the oatmeal brings to the table.

However, that hasn’t stopped anyone who’s had one from wanting another.

This batch was a very satisfactory recovery from the ails of the previous batches.

Glen 2008: Day 2

At noon, there came a tremor; cows
Stopped chewing for a second; sun,
Scarfed as in a heat-haze, dimmed.
–Philip Larkin, from “The Explosion”

Last night, in addition to thinking about Cain, we also heard a good bit about Bezalel. In Exodus 31, God tells Moses, “I have called by name Bezalel…and I have filled him with the Spirit of God in wisdom, in understanding, in knowledge, and in all kinds of craftsmanship.” Bezalel and his likewise called compatriots were called to create with all skill the tabernacle. Interestingly, as members of the tribe of Judah, they were called to make all of these works of art that they would never again see once their work was done. Once the ark was made, for instance, the only person who would see it would be Moses entering the Holy of Holies once a year.

It is a hard idea. Not only do they not have control of their work once it is done, but this is work which is created so that the whole nation can worship even though they cannot ever see it again.

This is part of what it means to make art in the public square.

Today’s workshop began with an in-depth analysis of a Philip Larkin poem and a Michael Donaghy poem. Each poem incorporates different strategies for releasing information. I don’t know how this is going to affect my work exactly, but I do know that this question of the intentional release of information is one I need to address, especially in the more narrative works.

Today was Warren’s first dip into my pocket. In addition to some Seamus Heaney poetry and a gift for someone who may be reading this post, my two big finds today were Li-Young Lee’s new collection Behind My Eyes, which includes a CD of Lee reading 22 of the works in the collection, and Ashen Sky by Barry Moser which is a series of illustrations of The Letters of Pliny the Younger on the Eruption of Vesuvius. I’ve got my eye on a book examining suburban city planning. I’ve also got my eye on an icon of The Ladder of Divine Ascent and of St. George and the Dragon.

I had decided to skip the fiction reading tonight by Valerie Sayers and get some writing and commenting done. Instead, I found myself reading a Patrick O’Brian novel. “This is silly,” I thought, “If I’m going to just sit here and read fiction, I should go listen to the reading.” And I was glad I did. Sayers fiction follows in that wonderful tradition of Southern writers who blend the outrageous with the tragic, the grotesque with the sublime, the humorous with the gut-wrenching. She read a story set in Jim Crow South that traced the fissures created by fear of difference at that time to its descendents today.

Worship was once again a blessing. The sermon tonight focused on that other Genesis city, Babel. How interesting that when God came down to confound the tower builders He did not wrend or destroy or smite. Rather, he scattered and he diversified. The preacher observed that the scattering was also a releasing, a freeing. The people were no longer tied to this insane project; they were freed to people the earth with glorious variety.

On a side note, my special package from home arrived today via UPS. Those attending the Thomas Parker Society meeting on Thursday are in for a treat.

2008 Glen: Day 1

‘Lie down
in the word-hoard, burrow
the coil and gleam
of your furrowed brain.

Compose in darkness.
Expect aurora borealis
in the long foray
but no cascade of light.’
–Seamus Heaney, from “North”

I’ve been anticipating breakfast at the Glen for over a week, and it did not disappoint. Scrambled eggs with salsa verde has become my special Glen breakfast. The salsa verde not being something we see often in northwestern Ohio. It was also good continue meeting new folks. This morning it was Carol from TX, a visual artist who is also on Image’s board. We rhapsodized a while on the edification provided by community, especially when finding like-minded people at home is so difficult.

Today was also the beginning of the workshop proper, and I couldn’t have been more encouraged. After the usual introduce yourself rounds, we dug into an examination of Seamus Heaney’s revisions of “North”. We had seven versions of the poem and traced through the process by which the initial scribblings became the polished stone. It was encouraging and intimidating, a combination that I’ve come to expect here at the Glen.

Then it was on to the critiquing of each other’s work. We got through about two poems from two people. The conversation was energetic, insightful, constructive, all the things that make for a great week. In fact, it was a rather energizing session. Tobin creates an atmosphere that engenders useful and helpful feedback. My only trouble now is that before we even get to my poems, I want to go through and shred them myself.

Over lunch, Bob, his college roommate Chris, and I discussed the boundaries of the interpretive pallette, or, to put it another way, the quality literature has to mean many things but not everything. That, and we discussed the effects of Sears buying/merging with Lands’ End.

Brett Lott gave the keynote address using a 5 point outline with 4 points. Addressing the theme of “The Artist and the City”, he explored the idea that because we are blessed, we do not keep that blessing. We are blessed in order that we may in turn give that blessing away. As artists, our job is to enbody harmony between the moral order and the world. He pulled liberally (but in a good way) from Francis Schaeffer’s Art and the Bible. An interesting balancing act that Schaeffer requires is that Christian art not be all sweetness and light, for that is not true. He describes art as operating in major and minor keys, and the Christian artist needs to do both. Dwelling only in either key is not truth. However, and here is where, perhaps, some Christians falter in their wish to judge various artists, this does not mean that any one piece of work must work in a balance. That is, one must look upon an artist’s entire body of work, for one piece may be in a decidedly minor key, but that one piece does not necessarily depict the entirety of an artist’s worldview.

He closed with the idea that the Bible is not the story of corporate action but rather the actions of individuals. The way we change our culture is not with protests or boycotts or other corporate actions. We change the culture by individually living in harmony with the moral order.

In keeping with theme of the Artist and the City, our worship time featured a meditation on the founder of the first city, Cain. A fascinating fact is that while it is true that God exiled Cain, not only does God then protect Cain with his mark, but it is the descendents of Cain that are “the father of all those who play the lyre and the pipe” as well as those who begin the metal arts. In other words, here in the fourth chapter of Genesis, we get the Bible’s first redemption story. Yes, Cain is a murderer. Yes, Cain is cursed to be a vagrant and a wanderer and a failed farmer. But it is also true that from him who was protected by God comes whole areas of knowledge that are required of later generations for the worship of God.

After worship, we had the first open mike night. I read three pieces, and people laughed at the right places and made appropriate noises after I finished. A highlight of the night for me was a song sung acapella by Sara Zarr’s mother; it was a Christmas carol written in a medieval/Appalachin cadence. Simply, it was beautiful.

2008 Glen: Arrival Day

I must like getting up at ungodly hours in the summer. This morning Sherry and I were on the road at 3:45am to get me to the Toledo Airport in time for a 6:10 flight. Despite a close connection in Dallas, I sailed into Albequerque at the appointed time–with my luggage–only to be forced to sit on the tarmac for 45 minutes. I began to wonder if this wasn’t part of a new American Airlines scheme: now you have to pay a special fee to get off the plane.

Not to worry, I shortly was through the car rental line and most of the way to Santa Fe where I pulled into the Santa Fe Brewing Company for lunch. I had a most satisfactory burger. Nay, it was a fantastic burger. A huge fresh roll with crisp lettuce and fine tomatoes, a patty as big as my face, and they didn’t feel the need to char the snot out of it. Pink, Pink is the color of my tasty burger. Pair it up with a rather nice PA, add in the oceanic musing of Patrick O’Brian, and it was the perfect beginning to an exciting week.

My roommate is also studying poetry, but he’s in the other workshop. Seems a decent enough fellow. looking forward to the traditional reception tonight with pithy words and new wine.

I’m also anticipating a less fraught experience than last year due to a less stressful theme: The Artist and the City–Art and Faith in the Public Square.

Evening Update
The first night of the Glen is a wonderful thing, especially for misanthropic introverted man-cave dwellers like myself. Old friends smile when they see you, tell you what’s been going on, asking about your health, all that. Makes you feel human.

So, after a nice dinner reuniting with Randy C and Sara & Liz Z, bumped into Jeffrey and Anne O, and then it was time for “Opening Remarks.” After the usual, corny, but sweet, opening remarks, workshop leader Dan T huddled up our group where I ran into fellow disc golfer and Phoenix firefighter Bob as well as Peter S. During the fine reception out on the balcony, we were treated to a spectacular NM sunset. The O’s told their tale of airplane terror. Really, it shook me up just to hear about it.

Now, it’s just on 10 of the clock mountain time, but I’ve been up since 3 Eastern. Must. Go. To. Bed.

The Great 8: Team Golf

It’s taken a few days to recover, but on Saturday, July 19, Ken and I successfully completed the disc golf iron man competition known as The Great 8. We rose a 4:30 in the A.M. to arrive at Zebulon park for the 6:15 players meeting. After picking up our players packs (a nicely stamped disc, Innova Super Shammy, and a minidisc), hearing some announcements, taking the above photo, and milling about aimlessly for a bit, we took our position at hole #5 and awaited the starting horn.

I’ll let you imagine the finer points of playing 144 holes of disc golf in under 14 hours. Here are some random observations:

• Two themes emerged on the day:
  1. What do we play? Team Golf. Throughout the day, Ken and I complemented each other’s weaknesses nicely. When I’d throw a drive into a tree, Ken’d have a nice clean shot. When Ken yanked a putt, I might put one in. Neither one of us had to carry the other for long, and both of us needed carrying at points.
  2. Long putt for two makes a tip-in for three. We quickly established a pattern of having 15-20 foot putts for 2. As long as one of us kept it close the other could run at it. We didn’t always get the deuce, but we gave ourselves chances.
• I was surprised at how NOT tired I was late in the day. It wasn’t until the 7th course that I started feeling some fatigue. I chalk this up to constant intake of water, gatorade, and Clif energy gel. Also, the drives between courses provided enough time to rest without getting stiff.
• I’m very glad I started working out at the Y. We had to sprint the last four holes, and there’s no way I could have finished without the working out. Not that I’m in the finest shape, you understand, but the cardio work made the difference.
• Positive talk will save the day. At any number of times–say when the skies opened and rained on us for four holes–it would have been easy to get negative, which would have slowed us down further. But Ken kept talking positive things (even when I knew his thoughts were quite the opposite). It’s amazing what a difference that makes.
• God bless the creators of UnderArmour.
• God bless the creators of Gold Bond Medicated Foot Powder.
• SHOCKING development of the day: I won a putting contest! While waiting for scores to be tabulated, the organizers held a “Ring of Fire” putting competition. 30 guys put at a basket simultaneously until only one person makes the putt. I won a nice Innova Starter Bag and a disc. That’ll never happen again!
• GPS units are wonderful. Ken and I were able to split the driving, and he could relax even though I didn’t know the way to the courses thanks to the nifty Garmin.

Results

• Number of Discs Lost: 3 (Ken)
• Number of Consecutive bogeys: 0
• Number of Trees Todd Hit on Tee Drives: Too numerous to count
• Number of Holes set straight through tight trees with a slight anhyzer bend: Same as number of Trees I hit
• Number of Participants: 46
• Number of Doubles Teams: 21
• Number of Intermediate Doubles Teams: 12
• Ken and Todd’s score: 402 (-35)
• Ken and Todd’s place in Intermediate Doubles: 3rd
• Number of gallons of Gatorade G2 I drank: 1
• Number of 1 liter bottles of water I drank: 8 or 9
• Pairs of socks used: 4

So there it is, we didn’t die, we finished, we placed. I call it a successful event.

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The VOCH-ness monster: A Great 8 Warmup

So next week, I’m going down to Raleigh to participate in a particular form of craziness known as The Great 8. My friend Ken and I will play as a doubles team in a tournament that requires us to play 8 courses in one day. In the summer. In North Carolina.

As preparation for this, today I loaded up the car with the requisite gear, food, and water, and headed up to Temperence, MI. I then worked my way back down to Tiffin playing the various courses along the route. Four in all. Here’s some random thoughts.

Vienna Park, Temperance, MI:
I was just here a few weeks ago for a tourney, and my general feelings haven’t changed. It’s a well-developed course that’s aging fairly well. The only blemishes are some new hole configurations that aren’t so much about skill as they are being known to locals who have figured out the secret handshake. I shot the same +5 I shot at the tourney, further illustrating the uselessness of adding extra holes to a tourney.

Ottawa Park, Toledo, OH:
This was the first time I’ve played this course. It’s very short. I blew several holes by not having the shortness dialed in. The layout is sensible, decent signage. There weren’t any holes that really stood out to me. This is a course that I should easily be shooting under par. Give me another crack at it or two, and I’ll be there.

Carter Park, Bowling Green, OH:
I’ve only played this course one other time, and that was a tourney in which I injured myself. Coming back, I’d forgotten how LONG the course plays, even with the plethora of short holes in the middle. The course requires many different shots, a good test. I ran into lots of traffic here. Fortunately, everyone was nice and offered to let me play through. Guess there’s nothing else to do at BGSU right now.

Hedges-Boyer Park, Tiffin, OH:

Back on the home course for the final round of the day. I was feeling pretty good, which is a good sign. I shot an average round for me, and there were some deuces I left out there. Hole #11 was painful; I overshot the short hole, going OB and taking a circle-4 on an easy deuce.

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General observations:

• I was surprised by how I didn’t feel tired. Obviously this was only half as many courses as the Great 8 and the temps were only in the low 80s, but I still felt solid. The time between courses was just enough rest.
• While I didn’t get physically tired, the mental game is going to be hard. At both BG and Tiffin, there were holes that I bogied or didn’t deuce that were the result of pure mental failure. This area is probably going to be where having a partner will help.
• I keep dropping my back shoulder–or lifting my front shoulder–on important drives. Need to focus on driving THROUGH my body.
• Funny nature moment of the day: Hole #16 at Tiffin. My drive landed about 10 feet from a robin. As I walked up, the robin snagged a huge earthworm: it dangled all the way from its beak to the ground. The robin wanted to get away from me, but it refused to drop the worm. It would try to fly, but couldn’t. It hopped a few feet away every step I took towards my disc. Finally, it was able to duck behind a tree.

Oh, TMI alert, the new UnderArmour undies that I purchased are fantastic! Not a single chafe all day long.

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Stats for the day
Miles driven: 144.5
Hours driven: 4
Hours spent on this endeavor: 8:43
Time spent playing DG: 4:13 or so
Shots OB: 3
Discs lost: 0
Discs lodged in a tree: 1
Discs lodged in a tree by trying to get down another disc lodged in the tree: 1

Scores
Vienna 3 2 3 4 4 4 4 3 3 || 3 3 2 3 4 3 4 3 4 |||| +5
Ottawa 4 4 2 4 3 4 3 3 3 || 3 3 3 3 2 4* 3 3 3|||| +3
Carter 4 3 3 3 4 5 2 3 3 || 3 5* 4 3 3 4 4 2 3 |||| +7
H-B 3 3 2 3 4 3 3 3 3 || 3 4* 4 3 3 3 3 4 3 |||| +3

Total: +18 for 73 holes

He did, did he?: A rant

I generally think that the writing in our nation’s newspapers is abysmal and contributes to the destruction of knowledge in the hearts and minds of the average American. However, a recent Associated Press news story does more than the usual to illustrate how the pervasive “style” of journalistic writing not only shades meaning but also entirely convolutes the facts of the story.

The July 12th report of a boy who was struck by a foul ball at a Cubs game carries the headline:

Boy fractures skull after hit by ball at Cubs game

The first sentence of the short article begins:

Doctors and family members say a 7-year-old boy who fractured his skull when he was struck by a foul ball at Wrigley Field…

Look at those sentences carefully. How exactly was the boy’s skull fractured? Did the boy purposefully bring his head into contact with a batted ball? Did the boy through a fit after missing a foul ball and smash his own head into the ground? Did the boy, in fact, have anything to do with the fact that his skull is now fractured? No. But the AP seems to think that the boy did all the fracturing. Why else would you write “a 7-year-old boy who fractured his skull“?

I understand the AP’s desire to write in the active voice. In fact, I generally encourage my writing students to write in the active voice and avoid the passive. However, an overzealous and context-insensitive application of the rule has a negative effect on the goals of AP style. Dr. Michael Sweeny of Utah State University suggests that the unstated logic behind the AP style is:

1. Totally accurate.
2. Totally clear to anyone with a high school education.
3. As tight as can be, given No. 1 and No. 2.
4. Inoffensive, unless there is an overriding reason, central to a significant news story, to include potentially offensive words or concepts.

The AP story headline “Boy fractures skull after hit by ball at Cubs game” violates dictum #1. The boy didn’t do any of the fracturing. The ball fractured the boy’s skull. More accurately, the ball batted foul by Cubs pitcher Ted Lilly fractured the boy’s skull. By casting the sentence in the active voice with the boy as the main subject, the writer makes the boy culpable in his own injury. Surely that is not an accurate representation of the facts.

I’m sure someone could argue that being entirely accurate in this case is going to result in a sentence in which the active agent is not a person–A foul ball fractured the skull of a young boy. Shouldn’t the news story be focused on the boy? Yes, it should. Which is why the passive voice may be the best option in this case. Especially if the acting agent is included. A young boy’s skull was fractured by a foul ball. It may be in passive voice, but the young boy is up front in the sentence and the proper cause of the fracturing is represented.

I could rail about some narrowly focused style hound in the bowels of the AP whose myopic application of a guideline has not only obfuscated the truth but also placed implied blame on an innocent child. But the sad truth is that I’m guessing that this error didn’t require any such threatening visage. My guess is that the piece was written by some poor lackey who has had the rules beaten into his soft, malleable brain-mush and probably wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference even if he’d had a free-thinking neuron capable to notice what was going on.