The Flashpoint

“[Obama said] ‘everyone should get the same deal as members of Congress.’ But you take the text of these bills, and not only are you not getting the same deal as members of Congress, who get a dozen or more choices in the D.C. area, but people aren’t going to get any choice at all. It’ll be tethered to a policy that many people might think is pretty crummy. Some of those policies will be high-deductible, going up 10 or 12 percent a year. And people are going to think that’s pretty crummy.

[…]

As for the people who don’t have coverage and are making $65,000, those people look at Washington and see us saying you’ll have to pay 13 percent of your income, and then we’re going to clobber you with all these co-pays and deductibles, and some government official comes and says, ‘We’ll give you an exemption’? No middle-class people will be attending rallies holding signs saying “thank you for my exemption!”

— Ron Wyden, speaking the Truth from on high, via Ezra Klein

Miller Time

If you’re in New England, you’d be well advised to go ahead and say your goodbyes to Buzzards Bay:

WESTPORT – Buzzards Bay Brewing will discontinue production of its eponymous microbrews.

“We’ve had a good run ” owner Bill Russell said, “but we have decided to head in a different direction.”

The surprise announcement Wednesday was influenced by a number of factors, Russell said, primarily a drop in demand. Sales had declined from a high of 5,000 barrels of Buzzards Bay brews in 2002 to a projected sale of around 100 barrels in the next seven months, Russell said.

That’s a hell of a drop in production. Where did it all go? Apparently right into the gaping maw that has swallowed many otherwise successful (but ultimately very small and by definition fragile) regional breweries:

“Our best years were when we distributed it ourself,” he said. “It’s hard to compete with national brands, representing huge corporate interests, that muscle their way into the marketplace.”

The big distributors could give a shit about anything that’s not called Bud/MillerCoors. And, let’s face it, nowadays almost all distributors are “big” (for a good rundown of the near-monopolistic situation, read this). If your beer doesn’t sell itself in business-sustaining volumes (complete with customers screaming for it at every store and bar if and when that tap or rack space goes away because your distributor had some big-assed Bud installations to do that week), you’d better self distribute or you will go out of business. Full stop.

Low volume, regional breweries like this depend on fanatical attention to every detail all the way from the grain to the tap handle. And, to you small regional brewers out there: If you are not on tap with at least one beer at every bar worth entering that’s located within 20 miles of your home brewery, change distributors or self-distribute. You are going to go out of business otherwise. It may already be too late. Seriously. Don’t kid yourself that breweries with good beers won’t fail. They do all the time. Even once mighty Celis was laid low on the altar of “better” distribution, and they had absolutely rabid, Smokey and the Bandit level fans.

But what about this so-called “different direction”; isn’t that just a pleasant euphemism for “closing the brewery”? Turns out it’s not:

“We are now producing a new product line called Just Beer that we can distribute ourselves locally,” he said. The new brands include John Beere, Moby D. and CIA (which the company Web site describes as “mysteriously smooth.”)

Ummm, okay. That sounds like a real winner. Something to base your future on. Nothing more profitable out there than gimmick beers and/or beers that try to out-Bud Budweiser. Newsflash: you will not be succesfull at trying to convert Bud drinkers to your Bud-alike. You cannot compete on price, and there is no bandwidth there to compete on taste. You think your quality is going to be better than a brewery producing a substantially identical yet biologically-derived product to the tune of millions of barrels at twelve very different locations? Why does anyone go after the American Premium Lager space? Even in a brewpub setting it makes no sense at all (time consuming and therefore costly with extremely marginal chance for success in terms of winning a steady and, by definition, choosy customer-base for craft beer).

Fortunately, it turns out they also contract brew for Cisco and Pretty Things, two fine product lines (we’ll forget for the moment some rather, uh, troubling bottles of Cisco I’ve encountered on various occasions and bask in the glory that is Indie IPA). But then comes this:

New ventures are also waiting, he said, including a partnership with an Irish brewer called Strangford Lough to produce and distribute some of their labels in the United States, one of which will be called St. Patrick’s Best.

“It’s very exciting for me since it’s part of my heritage,” he said. “They will ship us the syrup in 300-gallon boxes. It comes in a bladder inside the box. We will reconstitute it and ferment it here. It’s produced in County Down with Irish grain and hops, so it will have that unique taste and we will distribute it here.”

Indeed, reconstituted syrup will have a “unique” taste. Unique to Malt Liquor, that is… But with a name like “St. Patrick’s Best” I guess one should expect to wake up in the gutter (empty 40 nearby, natch) with what seems to be a tomahawk lodged in the front of one’s skull. Part of the heritage.

Voight-Kampff (finally) Arrives

The Boston Globe heralds the arrival of the newest in new Terrrist detection services, the picture of which strikes me as slightly…familiar:

The article suggests some (clearly) half-assed potential questions for said interrogations. Might I humbly suggest these more patriotic replacements:

It’s your birthday. Someone gives you a calfskin wallet. How do you react?

You’ve got a little boy. He shows you his butterfly collection plus the killing jar. What do you do?

You’re watching television. Suddenly you realize there’s a wasp crawling on your arm… [wait for first response]

You’re in a desert walking along in the sand when all of the sudden you look down, and you see a tortoise; it’s crawling toward you. You reach down, you flip the tortoise over on its back. The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can’t, not without your help. But you’re not helping. Why is that?

When necessary, this phrase can be interjected:

They’re just questions, (Name). In answer to your query, they’re written down for me. It’s a test, designed to provoke an emotional response. Shall we continue? Describe in single words, only the good things that come into your mind. About your mother.