by Laurelin

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that I’ve been in a serious rut lately. I don’t know if it has to do with my approaching 30th birthday, my increased responsibility at work, my lack of any romantic interest in anyone besides an ex that I just want out of my head, or a lethal combination of all of these things. Either way, I haven’t been very happy lately, and I really don’t feel like myself. I feel…lost. Sad. Alone. Rejected. Like I’m standing in a crowded room screaming — and no one can hear me, or the ones who can just don’t care.

I know it is nothing more than a temporary hiccup in an otherwise smooth existence, so I have been dealing with this the best way I know how: drinking, reading, working out, whatever. I’m choosing one night a week to do something really fun and taking it to the next level in a vain attempt to forget that for one second, when I go home, I will probably just start to cry about the same thing over and over again.

The one constant in my recent fall from my ever-perfect life is my ex-boyfriend from a few years ago. He was the person who inspired me to start writing this column; first in anger, then as time went on in friendship and in unwavering support. He moved to Los Angeles about five months ago. His leaving made me feel like a part of my life was seriously over. I felt conflicted; devastated and happy at the same time. This city eats bartenders alive, and he was ready for a change. We always said we would go together, and when we broke up I was the one dead set on leaving… but I wound up staying, and months later, he left, and I cried.

He knows me better than most of my girlfriends, and when I call him drunk and crying about another guy at 4 AM, he always answers and he always knows just what to say. Just hearing his voice on the other end of the line is like being thrown a rope, something to keep me hanging on for just a little bit longer.

“You were crying about birthday cake,” he said the other morning, “it was cute, and sad.” Birthday cake, the one that I had custom made for a guy who never showed up for his party I helped plan in Boston, and who shut off his phone when I called to ask what was going on. Instead, I carted the cake home to my apartment and my roommates and we tore it apart; ate half of it and threw the rest in the trash. And I got drunk and I cried, because I was an idiot to care about someone who never cared for me, again.

And then, a few weeks ago, my ex called from LA to say he was coming home. He had had enough of California, and for once, I didn’t cry. He was coming home and finally, maybe, things could get back to normal. He’s been back for two days, and when I woke up this morning I was tangled up in him and for once, I didn’t feel lost.

I woke up, I took his clothes and I washed them with mine. I pulled his old dusty Tupperware container out of the closet and got him new socks and underwear and one of his T-shirts. I made coffee while he slept, and when he woke up he rubbed my back because I had run twelve miles in the rain the day before and I was cold and sore, and we were happy.

We might not be together anymore, and I don’t want to be, to be honest. We’re clearly both lost, but we take care of each other, for now. Sometimes, when you’re in a rut it’s nice to have someone throw you a rope. Other times it’s nice to have someone climb down and sit there with you until you’re ready to muster the strength to get out on your own.

[..]

by Laurelin

It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I remember the feeling like it was yesterday, a once sharp pain now only a memory that makes me cringe only because of the way I almost remember feeling. It’s faded now, the sharp feeling of loss from so long ago to be replaced with this new experience, one that’s a bit more bittersweet and almost entirely silly.

I remember the first time. I was standing at the Ocean Mist in Rhode Island at an all ages rock show. The bar was perfect; on stilts that went into the ocean so when you looked away from the crowded stage and sticker covered walls you could see only the blue of the ocean. The windows were open in the summer and you could taste the salt on your tongue while you breathed in the bass from the speakers. As a teenager, it was heaven.

I had had a crush on this guy forever, and I had decided that while we were all out that night I was finally going to tell him how I felt. The music faded to a dull pounding in my brain as I walked over to him, and my stomach flipped somersaults. I somehow managed to spit it out, not remembering exactly what I said but distinctly remembering his face, his blank expression that told me that I was wrong, he would never like me back, and I turned and ran. Later a friend told me that he was embarrassed, that I was too tall, disproportionate. I wanted to die.

All these years later, finally comfortable with who I am, how tall I am, my life and my choices. All these years later still struggling with the truth and just finally giving up and telling someone I still have feelings for them even though I know nothing good will come of it. I don’t know why I said it. I don’t know why I felt the need to tell him, it’s not like I couldn’t sleep or live without finally getting this off my chest. I know it was stupid and it does nothing but makes things awkward. (All these years later that still hasn’t changed.)

I don’t feel better. I don’t know if I feel worse. I don’t think things can be the same, but they shouldn’t have to be different. I imagine that in the grand scheme of my life, this is going to be something I look back on and laugh at. A psychic once held my hand and said, “You have already been so lucky, you’ve had two great loves and two great heartbreaks. This thing you hold, this is neither. So why can’t you move on?”

It’s something that now, I can remedy with calling other ex-boyfriends and drinking with girlfriends, where as back then I cried myself to sleep for days. This time, only a train ride home with a bit of smudged mascara, a woeful realization that I’m not as tough as I make myself out to be. I feel bad for myself. I feel bad for making him struggle to find the right words to not hurt my feelings. I feel bad for the past three guys I’ve dated, because I have kicked them all to the curb with a handful of lies and half truths once we hit the one month period. Better off alone until I figure this out, don’t like to be alone so I start things I can’t finish.

“It’s okay, because you know this is silly,” my roommate says as I’m trying not to let anyone at the bar see me cry. “I know,” I mumble, and I DO know. I don’t even notice the guy walking up behind me and ordering shots. “Two please,” he says and passes one to me with a kind smile. My eyes dry almost instantly, and I know how stupid I must look. We cheers and the shot goes down like fire, but I seem to have found my coy smile, and this guy is kind of cute.

“Rough night?” he asks.

“It’s nothing,” I say smoothly, and the lie spreads like butter on warm toast, so well that I almost believe it. Almost.

[..]

by Justin Beckner

Over the past decade Sailor Jerry has turned itself into one of the greatest success stories of the industry while miraculously staying true to its roots. This is largely due to grassroots style underground marketing campaigns and the relentless work put in by people who believe in the product. But let us not forget that marketing campaigns are not what ultimately sells rum, the uncompromised flavor of Sailor Jerry’s is what sets it above its competitors and is fast making it one of the top selling brands of rum in the country.

Our story starts with a man named Norman Collins, known to friends and clients as “Sailor Jerry.” Jerry was a seafaring tattoo artist, musician, and poet, who schooled himself on the Asian art of tattooing during his time in the Navy. Everything Jerry pursued he did with valor and passion, but it was his work doing tattoos that garnered him his iconic and legendary status within the annals of the tattoo industry and beyond. Designers like Ed Hardy have been heavily influenced by Jerry’s work, Converse has put his designs on shoes and clothing, and the use of anchors, compasses, and ships are staples in tattoo shops around the world. Jerry was also very insistent on the sterilization of equipment, especially needles. This helped to decrease the spread of infection and clean up the image society had of tattooing.

The tattoo work of Norman Collins contains a resonance of the passion and valor which he put into everything he pursued. So it makes sense that those who played such a vital role in making Sailor Jerry’s Rum would share those same principles. The rum itself is a work of art. A gentle blend of caramel and vanilla flavors that are so smooth, you can actually enjoy this rum straight on the rocks. It also tastes great with a cola or in any sort of mix which calls for rum.

The following is an interview conducted with Sailor Jerry’s Rum Brand Ambassador and marketing mastermind, Erin Cooper.

Justin R. Beckner: How did the Norman Collins namesake become a brand of rum?

Erin Cooper: A company called CCM owns the Sailor Jerry brand. They bought the artwork and the name and started off as a clothing company. A few years into this, they decided that they wanted to have an alcohol in honor of Norman Collins. They went to William Grant, who are known for their Scotches, and of course Hendricks Gin, and they put together this amazing spiced rum to honor Sailor Jerry.

JB: Tell us a bit about Norman Collins, the original Sailor Jerry.

EC: He was the grandfather of Americana style tattooing. A lot of people don’t know that and are somewhat jaded because of Ed Hardy and how they blew up that form of artwork into this commercial thing rather than a respected artform. Norman Collins actually taught Ed Hardy how to tattoo, so many of the things that Ed is known for were learned from Norman Collins. Norman traveled a lot, especially around Japan, and learned their tattooing styles and techniques and made them his own. Around the time of Norman’s hayday, during World War Two, the pinup culture was booming. So that’s where we get the pin-ups incorporated with the anchors and compasses and other symbols of Americana.

JB: I’m told that the recipe for this rum is kept under lock and key.

EC: What’s great about William Grant is that we are a family owned company and our Scotchers will talk your ear off about how our Scotches are made and the distilling process. But with Sailor Jerry, the recipe and the process are kept under lock and key, and even the Ambassadors aren’t allowed to share them. I can say that we do our blending in New Jersey. Of course the flavor is no secret; it’s got a rich vanilla flavor with some caramel and a hint of lime. A lot of people assume that because Sailor Jerry is 92 Proof that it’s really sharp and you can’t get any of the flavors. But in spite of the high proof, you can really pick out the flavors and see the scope of the awesome profile of the rum. One of Sailor Jerry’s mottos was “My work speaks for itself.” That’s what we like to say about the brand. When you mix it with cola or have it straight up or however you choose to drink it, you’re going to taste it for what it is. We make it the way it’s supposed to be made.

JB: The marketing strategy for Sailor Jerry is very grassroots. How did this brand grow so quickly to rival some of the more commercial rum brands?

EC: We started underground with Sailor Jerry and we hit the dive bars where we thought would be a great place to put it. We gave bands the rum and they promoted it on tour – it was definitely a snowball effect from there. We won’t put advertisements on TV or magazines and the brand has gone further than they ever imagined it would. We still want to stay underground and we want to stay true to the people who know Sailor Jerry’s for what it is. We want to stay true to the punk rockers and the rockabilly geeks and the people who made Sailor Jerry’s what it is today. But at the same time, it is a rum for everybody and we want to make it available to the general market. What’s cool is that recently we’ve been seeing Sailor Jerry’s in high end bars here in Las Vegas and many of the casinos and it’s been getting picked up by corporate beverage programs, and it’s not because of the label or because of Norman, it’s because of the liquid inside. It’s the same way with music; the bands that who drink Sailor Jerry and help promote it are always a natural fit.

JB: I think Sailor Jerry’s philosophy fits quite well with the philosophy at SuicideGirls.

EC: I totally agree. I think that when Missy and Sean started the site it was very underground and it was based on this alternative lifestyle and the art that goes with it. Sailor Jerry’s stated out the same way. I also would like to say that Amina is fantastic. She’s a great photographer and if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I started out in modeling and she was a great inspiration for me and it’s been so amazing to have her and AmberLynn on our staff at SJ.

JB: Let’s talk a bit more about how you got your start and how you came to be the Ambassador for William Grant.

EC: I started out modeling here and there and did some work with Inked Magazine. One day I got a phone call from one of my friends who knew an agent who was looking for tattoo models for this company called Sailor Jerry. I had never done modeling for a liquor company before and I was super nervous but I did it and pretty soon I was working at all the Sailor Jerry promos that were going on in Las Vegas. Then when New York decided that they wanted a brand ambassador for Nevada, my name came up and I went to New York, interviewed, and got the job. Around that same time they were doing a casting call for the 2011 Sailor Jerry Calendar, so I sent my picture in and crossed my fingers that I would get it and I got a phone call like a week later saying that I was going to be in the SJ Calendar. All these great things happened all within a short span of time. I love my job and everything that the company it. I’m very glad to work for a company that fits me so well because I am a terrible liar. When I worked in retail, it was hard for me to sell things if I didn’t really like the way it looked. With Sailor Jerry’s, it’s so easy for me to sell because I believe so strongly in the product.

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by Laurelin

The old woman cupped my hand in hers. Narrowing her eyes and making a clicking noise in the back of her throat she looked up and smiled warmly. “You are untrusting in love,” she said. “Why? What is there to worry about, you have had two great heartbreaks in your life and they are over, it’s time to put the past behind you. I look in your eyes and see such warmth, too bad you cannot speak with your eyes.” She lets my hand go and it falls into my lap. I guess that lady gets paid to say those things, but at 2 AM in New York City it suddenly seems so real, and I walk back through Times Square to my hotel wondering about what she said. Was she right? Was I totally untrusting?

I went on a date the other night with a bartender from a trendy bar downtown. He wasn’t anything like me, and while once that would have really frightened me, now it seems really appealing, challenging, intriguing. I had a great time, and at the end of the night back home at my apartment I found myself smiling stupidly, wishing my roommate was home so I could talk her ear off about it. I never heard from that guy again, and it was a bit unsettling for a few days. What did I do wrong? This was so typical.

After a few days of not hearing back I moved on; not everyone gets an explanation as to why something doesn’t work out. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself a little bit — here I was wondering why everything seemed to click when it didn’t really. Who does that? “You do that,” my roommate points out. “You do that all the time. Have a great time and then freak out and run away and never tell the guy why. That’s like, your favorite thing to do!” I think about it and I can’t help but laugh, at myself, at the poor guys I have dated in the past five months, and at the whole situation in general. She’s right, I have an inability to tell the truth when it comes to wanting to end something before it really starts; I just slither back to my bar scene life and immerse myself in work. One can always trust the reliability of a 45 hour work week. Does that make me untrusting? Easily bored? Non committal?

I have always considered trust in relationships to be something that is created over time once you find someone who doesn’t drive you nuts. All of a sudden I realize that I’m looking at the cell phone you left on my nightstand when you were rushing to work and I roll over and go back to bed – instead of flipping through your texts. I’m left alone in your apartment and your computer is right there with your e-mail up on the screen, and I sign out and into mine without even a second glance. You want to go out with your friends to the strip club with an eight ball of cocaine in your pocket? Sure, have a good time. I trust you. See? I can be trusting.

That old lady was wrong. I have trust in a lot of things. I trust that my friends will get me through anything. I trust that I’m a good judge of character, and that even if something doesn’t work out that I chose that person or that path because I saw something good in it, because I thought that it would make me a better person. I trust that I will not always do the right thing but that I will know the difference between the two, and that I will do better next time, be stronger and able to learn from my mistakes. I might be untrusting in love, but that is only because a lot of times the way it’s ended up for me has left me feeling like I trusted something that wasn’t real, or that was only real for a little while and that is devastating. I was never mislead, nor was I ever misleading to anyone I ever called mine. If I mislead you, you were never mine, nor I yours.

Untrusting in love seems normal to me to an extent; it’s good to be cautious with your heart after you have spent so long learning to trust yourself. I’ll open up when the time is right. For now, the only trust I need is from the bartender shaking my martini or muddling my mojito. It’s almost summer time, and I smell some really poor life choices on the horizon. If there’s one thing I can trust in, it’s that.

[..]

by Justin Beckner

During a trip to Iowa (don’t ask me why I was there) I came across a brewpub called the Olde Main. It was slightly after noon and I was thirsty so I went inside. Upon speaking with the bartenders and other patrons there, I found that everyone in the bar knew a lot about the beer they were drinking. This was a place where beer was appreciated rather than simply consumed – this was my kind of bar.

The Olde Main had six classic styles of in house brews on tap. The vats that gave birth to the delicious beverages rested just beyond a sheet of glass behind the bar. As I sat there enjoying my beer –– A Scottish Ale called “Off Kilter” –– I began to ponder the rich history of beer brewing process. Everyone can enjoy the obvious effects of beer but it takes another breed to enjoy the science behind it.

I arranged to meet with the brewmaster Jeff “Puff” Irvin the next morning for a tour of the beer making process. Puff spoke with true passion as he explained each step taken to ensure that the beer at Olde Main is held to the highest standard. The following is an interview with Puff, an architect of delicious beer. A thorough explanation of the process used at Olde Main can be found here.

Justin Beckner: What are your credentials as a brewmaster?

Jeff “Puff” Irvin: I have an undergraduate degree in Biology from Iowa State University. Then I went to the University of California Davis and I graduated from the Master Brewers Program down there. Then I came back here to Ames, Iowa and started brewing beer.

JB: Was it always your plan to become a brewmaster or at what point did you decide that was what you wanted to do?

JPI: I had a job as a bartender here to put myself through undergraduate college and I wanted to learn more about the stuff I was serving so I did some brewing experiments at home before I went to school for it. I took a class at Iowa State called Plants & People where we talked about how plants have impacted society over the years so we learned a lot about the ingredients that go into making beer which I found to be really interesting. But I always had a passion for spirits, beer and wine, and I was fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time and have the opportunity to get accepted to UC Davis. I’ve found that brewing beer has been a great fit for me and I’ve been doing it for the past eight years.

JB: Now, on the website people can check out the brewing by way of photos and your process is very well explained. You describe your brewing process here as being very “traditional”. What does that mean exactly?

JPI: We basically use large buckets to brew the beer which is a very old process. We don’t have a lot of the state of the art technology that some places can afford. But people have been making beer the same way for a very long time. We make it 500 gallons at a time. There are some things that we need to take into consideration because of that but the general process is the same as brewing it 5 gallons at a time in your home. It’s not rocket science.

JB: How many people work here?

JPI: The brewhouse in just myself and John, and then we’ve got four part-time guys who come in from time to time. We’ve also got a full time sales guy who’s always out on the road trying to sell the beer.

JB: Is the marketing world as difficult for breweries as it is for things like music and independent films?

JPI: It’s very similar in the fact that there are a lot of great breweries out there who are very good at marketing their product. In that sense, even though we’ve been around for eight years, we are still very new to the marketing aspects of the industry. We do have aspirations of getting bigger and hopefully soon building a new facility off site from here to keep up with production. We bottle five of our beers right now and we’d love to add some more seasonals to that.

JB: In your experimentations with making different kinds of beer and liquors, what would you say is the oddest ingredient you’ve ever used?

JPI: We do a chocolate porter here every year where we add 45 pounds of real Bavarian Chocolate – that’s our winter seasonal and it sells really well. We do an Irish Red beer for St. Patrick’s Day. We do a pumpkin brew for our fall seasonal. Some of the crazier stuff we do are our one-off runs. We did a 13 grain beer that had a bunch of holistic aphrodisiacs in it like Horny Goat Wheat Powder and Yohimbine. That was kind of funny and it sold well after we explained what was in it. We did a 4 Oat beer which we made with malted oats, flaked oats, toasted oats, and then an oat cereal that I can’t tell you the name of it because I called the company and since it is marketed to kids, they wouldn’t let us use the name anywhere. I can tell you that it was Magically Delicious – that’s what we called it. The interesting thing is that the cereal we used had marshmallows in it. We poured the boxes of cereal into our mash tub, so that was pretty interesting. We did a double IPA last spring which ended up being like 15.5 percent alcohol content. We used a process called dry hopping which we’d never used before here. It was a delicious beer but it was really a messy process. We’d like to make it again but we’ve got to figure out a better way to strain it from our tubs because it tends to clog everything up.

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by Laurelin

Change over time is a strange thing; it’s so gradual and so fast at the same time. One day you open your eyes and you’re like, wow, where did the time go? How did I get here in this apartment with all this stuff, with this job and this… life.

That’s how I felt high school and college were, and then all the years after that –– a montage of years blending, flickering in my memory like old movies, set to the most beautiful music. It all seemed to be only an exhale in a series of breaths, and all the breaths gone with only the slightest breeze before I’m even aware I’ve drawn another. It was forever and no time at all at the same time, and when it was finally over I couldn’t place how I had changed, or when; I just knew that somehow, I had. Looking back on the past month of my life I am finally able to look at something and know that without a doubt, this instance was when everything changed. This moment was mine.

I have always coasted though life with minimal responsibilities. At almost 30 I have to say I have the best and worst of it all: I have worked hard for every penny I’ve earned. I’ve always paid my own way. I fell into bartending because it paid my bills and still allowed me to party. This was a community where I could drink and stay up late and have a family, and a home away from home. I watched every friend I ever had in high school and then college settle and get married, start families, buy houses. And I stayed the same. I don’t think I ever had a problem, but I certainly never had any solutions. I never thought of it as a career, but it all of a sudden was mine, and while others turned up their noses I decided to make it my own. I never thought that anyone else would imagine me as being able to run a bar on my own; it was always someone else’s job. But then all of a sudden, there it was. An offer for this place to be mine –– really, actually mine.

Being offered a management position in an industry that has always allowed me to coast through life with minimal responsibilities seemed at first frightening. I can’t do this! Other people do this! It was scary, knowing that someone saw something in me, someone thinks I could run the show. What if I’m not good at it? What if I let everyone down? A chance to shine is also a chance to fail, and I always ran from responsibility in fear of failing. Mulling over my fate clutching my usual pint of beer, I consciously make a choice. This job I’ve chosen might not be what “everyone else” is doing, but it can be a career, it’s always been mine. I took a week to think about it and when I was finally ready to say “yes,” I knew that my life would never be the same. This was one of those moments where you take control and literally steer your life down one path. Mentally, I strap on my seatbelt and brace for impact.

My new manager pants seem to be fitting alright, but at the same time I am still so lost; working amongst friends and ex-boyfriends, trying to find my voice of authority while also trying to remain one of the gang. I have no idea who this person is who is supposed to be in charge. I feel like I haven’t found my voice. I can’t even control the color of my cheeks around my ex, how can I control the bar? I may not feel like I can find that voice of authority, but I have always had MY voice, and sometimes I hear that person I want to be stepping forward and speaking, as though someone else is finally accepting a role, and it takes a minute to realize that that person really is me.

I’m settling in in my own way, piece by piece. I’ve come to the conclusion that for me, there really isn’t a life beyond the bar scene. Some people were created just for this; born of late nights, shaken cocktails, of phone numbers and thoughts scribbled on cocktail napkins and spilt beer. I like to think that I didn’t just fall into this because it was easy. That’s how it started, sure. But it’s not how it’s going to end.

[..]

by Laurelin

People always think that as a bartender I must be always surrounded by men. Flirting with the bartender is just what people do, it’s true. I’m going to be honest though — besides the occasional coworker, in my years behind the bar I have never once met and wound up hooking up with or dating a guy I’ve met while working. I am friendly, but I am not one of those girls who bats her eyelashes for tips. I would rather impress you with my knowledge of beer selection than with my boobs (although I do have a pretty perky rack).

That being said, let’s move on to something a little on the girly side: hair. I have spent the majority of my life as a faux ginger. My hair is naturally mousy brown, and in high school (without my parents permission of course) I started dying it auburn. With the exception of a few years of rebellion with crazy haircuts and experimenting with pinks, blues, and purples, I have always had long, red hair. I woke up one morning about a month ago with a new idea in my head. Blonde. I wonder…Not an hour later I found myself in a salon chair covered in foils, and an hour after that, I was a different person. I looked in the mirror and couldn’t believe it. Could I touch it? Is this me?

I didn’t think anyone would care, but as the days went by I started to notice a serious difference in the way men talked to me. People held doors, bought me drinks, smiled more. Is this for real? Maybe it was in the way I held myself; I had just received two promotions at both my jobs and I admit to having a bit more pep in my step as of late. Either way, people always say blondes have more fun, and I’m starting to think they weren’t kidding. My bar shifts end in multiple phone numbers written on napkins and bar receipts. Guys hang around a little past closing and ask what I’m doing after work, I need to shove them out the door and try not to laugh. People whistle in the streets and I’m wondering, was I invisible as a red head? Seriously?

The other night at a charity event I met this guy who on paper, seemed perfect. We chatted, I wasn’t exactly interested but I wasn’t not interested. He wound up having too much to drink and in ordering us a round of beers he made a snide comment, purposely insulting the bartender. I was horrified, but I thanked him for the chat and went to find my friends. I could feel his eyes on me for the rest of the night, and I wished I had anywhere else to be.

One week later, I’d just started a shift at work. Before I can even take off my coat, I look up and there he is, the guy from the charity event. My cheeks burn and I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“Do you remember me?” he asks.

“Yes…” I say.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says. “I can’t believe I didn’t get your number. Please, go out with me.” I look around, wondering if anyone else is hearing this. The coat I have taken only halfway off suddenly feels like a million pounds of wool, and I start sweating.

“Um, I’m flattered, but I’m kind of seeing someone…” I manage to stammer.

“I don’t care,” he says. “One coffee date.” Whelp, that’s it for me. The scent of desperation on anyone makes bile rise in my throat but at the same time I feel so bad for this guy that I can barely stand it.

“You should go,” I say. He doesn’t go, he stares at me, and as the other bartender walks up I hold my hand up in a half wave, and he finally gets it. He leaves, and I start my shift shaking.

Fucking blonde hair, seriously. I’m in trouble.

[..]