Tuesday, June 4, 2013

NMBJ13

When we were sitting on squashy couches, with our knees pressed against the coffee table, tapping out notes on our iPhones the Barista Jam was just barely starting to come together.  My grandiose vision consisted of coffee lovers and party people melding in one room for one afternoon, clapping one another on the back and laughing heartily.  Music pumping, espresso pulling, pour over brewing, you get the idea.

I am pleased to announce that with a couple of hitches and my very own style of haphazard organization the Northwest Montana Barista Jam 2013 was a blast.  Colter collaborated with 5 Sparrows Cafe Products and  Montana Coffee Traders for a super good time on the afternoon of May 19th.

When we originally hatched the plan the idea was to have coffee types all get together in a comfortable, informal setting.  Then we added a few tables with different pour over methods such as aero press, Chemex, and Hario pour over.  Across the room from the pour over bars was our vintage La Marzocco who got to come out to play for the day.  It was good to see her.  Ever since Kiki moved in downtown we don't get to play with the sweet double group head much. Did you know we call our downtown machine Kiki?  Yeah.

All in all everyone who attended had a great time.  Or else they put on an excited face to make me feel better.  The highlight was the latte art throwdown.  After all the donations were collected the competitors were playing for $150 cold hard cash money.  It was intense.  We did an applause-o-meter and the final tie breaking  pour off was done with the spectators outside allowing the finalist baristas, who were Allison Stayer of Colter and Matthew Bussard of MCT, to concentrate wholly on the task at hand.  The competition was stiff and all the baristas involved brought their A game and everyone was a definite threat to the crown but in the end Matthew Bussard of Montana Coffee Traders took the title, the cash, the Espresso Parts Northwest swag and, most coveted, Pump Pot Dolly (see photo).




We are already looking forward to another event and ideas of new components and activities are sparking.  Thanks to everyone who made it great!

The Barista Jam also marked a bit of a sad occasion.  It was the final time several of Colter's baristas would still be Colter girls and boys.  Allison, Richie and Ty have transitioned out and I have bowed out and taken off my management sash and barista nametag.  Like I said, a bit sad, but also very exciting to see some of our beloved employees finding their bliss, even if it doesn't include being on our payroll.  As for myself I can spend more time with my ping pong ball of a kid while still offering up fbook updates and blog posts.  I can 98% guarantee that I will pick up a shift here and there so y'all will still be slurpin' my swill.  I just can't say goodbye.  This is my bliss.  Don't tell the head cheese I said that.

Also, I know I have said this before and I really hope what I'm about to say becomes reality.  I have some serious confidence this time around that sweet custom designed t-shirts will be on the shelves soon!  And by soon I mean soon in Head Cheese time which is much more of a loose term than normal people.  It's like when a woman is 6 months pregnant and someone says she's going to have a baby "soon."  Yeah.  Soon for you, buddy.  There is nothing soon about those last four months. Yes, four, the nine month pregnancy is a hugely disconcerting and disappointing myth.  So this t-shirt baby is going to be here "soon".  We're gestating it as I type.  Be excited.


I leave you with this:

A nun, a priest, a Scotsman, an Irishman, a blond and a rabbi walk into a bar.

The bartender looks up and says, "What is this?  Some sort of joke?"




My kid's head is stuck between the wall and the couch.  Gotta go.




Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Mecca

"You know what you can do while I'm gone?!"
"Tell me."
"Write a blog post!"
"Yeah.  It's been too long.  But I don't have much in the way of material lately.  I haven't been in the shop much."
"So write about life! C'monnnnnn.  Write anything!  Tell a story!"

Welp.  What the Head Cheese wants, he gets.  That's what we let him think anyway.


So, there we were.  In the hotel bar in Korea Town in LA waiting for our Josh Ritter concert to start.  Now, let me preface this by saying that Grady and I don't necessarily love hotel bars.  Now, show me a dive where there are no doors on the bathroom and the bartender looks like she started smoking at twelve and then had four kids by the time she was seventeen.  That's the spot for us.

In fact, that reminds me of another story.  Don't worry, we'll go back to Korea Town soon but for now, come up to Fairbanks with me. 

So, there we were.  In a no water, no power cabin in the middle of the woods in Fairbanks, Alaska in January.  The only reason to go to Fairbanks, Alaska in January is to see a family member who has dropped severely ill or to see Josh Ritter.  We were there for the latter.  Anyway, we hitched a ride out of the no water no power cabin to the UAF (University Alaska Fairbanks) campus to go mingle with some co-eds and go a few miles on the XC ski course.  En route we get the tour of bustling downtown Fairbanks.  When I say bustling what I mean is it's pretty dingy and the most activity I saw at 9am were some natives sitting on the sidewalk outside of a tiny windowed bar called The Mecca.  Ski course was cool, we saw not one but two moose and Grady fell over about four times.  We definitely earned our beers at the campus bar.  At the UAF pub we find, I'm not even kidding you, a dude with a pinky ring and a beret drinking a glass of wine with some textbook open on his table.  No one else.  We get a pitcher and walk into the vicinity of beret boy.  Now, in mine and Grady's travels I am the face and he is the bank.  We need information, I am sent to negotiate with locals and then he buys whatever it is we need to get where we're going.  So, I head over to BB to see what he knows about this town.  
"This place always this happenin?!"  I start with a bit of a laugh.
Completely unimpressed he replies by rolling his eyes from his text book up to me and then back down.
"I mean, this place is pretty sweet but I guess I was just wondering if there are any other bars around?  Maybe even one with a liquor license?"
"I dunno.  This is where my friends and I usually hang."
Yeah.  Friends.  Right.  I decide to attack from a different angle, "well, when we were driving up here I saw some action at a place called The Mecca.  Is that --"
He cuts me off, "The Mecca?  The Mecca?  No one goes to The Mecca.  Especially if you're not native or not looking for trouble.  I have lived here 24 years and never have gone and never will go to The Mecca.  You shouldn't either."
"Great, thanks for the help!"
Grady and I chug our beers and call a cab.  To The Mecca it is.

The cab driver also didn't seem like he thought we should go to The Mecca.  I think they have to take you where you ask them to though so he steered us downtown.  As we were getting out he asked us one last time if we were sure we didn't want to go back up to the University.  Thanks, buddy.  We got this.
To be perfectly honest with you I have no idea what those people were so worried about!  It was exactly what we had been looking for ever since we arrived.  Granted, it was only noon and it was super busy which you don't see everyday but I got the distinct feeling that you do see that every day at this place.  At first I wondered why the patrons weren't at work and as the day wore on I realized that not only were they not really the "working" type, some of them were in fact at work.  I could have bought an animal skin vest with fringe and glow in the dark beads, a puffy fox fur hat, a dream catcher, a lighter that looked like a rifle or a t-shirt with two wolves staring into the sky and a big moon behind them and Alaska written in silvery sparkly graffiti looking cursive at the bottom.  I almost went for the fox fur hat but then the woman selling it told me it was $275.  Girl, you have three teeth and you're at The Mecca.

At the far end of the bar sat a huge man who also did not have very many teeth.  Due to his lack of teeth and his level of inebriation he whistled and spat a lot while he spoke which was kinda funny and kinda terrifying.  The teeny bartender kept yelling at him to go home and quite spitting in her cherries.  He would gesture wildly, knock over his bar stool and come down to the other end of the bar.  I'm not sure if he thought he was tricking her?  Because she definitely knew it was the same giant toothless spitting drunk dude.  I think I missed some debauchery because all of a sudden the FPD were there in uniform to haul him off to the drunk tank.  Grady and I mentioned to the bartender that we were pretty impressed with how she handles all the drunks and especially our friend Steven.  Steven being the giant toothless one.  She just kinda shrugged it off.  "Happens everyday," she said.  "They can only keep him downtown 5 hours.  He'll be back."

After Steve left we needed some more entertainment so Grady handed me a $20 and motioned toward the jukebox.  Normally I would have put on some Bob Dylan, some Josh Ritter, some Crosby Stills Nash and Young, some Steve Miller Band, Tom Petty and maybe a pinch of Lady Gaga for good measure.  This day, however, something got into me and I played Avril Lavigne's, "Girlfriend."  I don't mean that I played Avril Lavigne's, "Girlfriend" once.  I mean I played $20 worth of Avril Lavinge's, "Girlfriend."  Oh yeah.  That happened.  The natives loved it!  By the 13th or 14th time around they knew the words and we were doing shots every time she said, "think you need a new one!"  I even got to wear the fox fur hat and dance on the bar.  And either they let him out early or $20 goes really really far in a jukebox in Alaska because eventually even Steve was back and dancing with us.  The big lumbering idiot picked me up and spun me around at some point and plopped me down on the pool table.  I was in dirty dive bar heaven.

Somehow Grady's brother, Sean, found us.  I blame BB at the campus bar.  Sean drug us out of there and tried to feed us pizza promising that we would go back to The Mecca.

I'm still waiting.

This was going to be a story about Josh Ritter and Korea Town.  I only have a couple stories about Korea Town but I have lots and lots about Josh Ritter.  I'll have even more after tomorrow!  Josh Ritter at the Wilma here I come!



By the way, here's the fox fur hat!  It's pretty sweet but do you think it's $275 sweet?



And of course, your joke.

A drum and a cymbal fall off a cliff...






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Badoom CHA!