The Front Porch

When I was a kid, we played outside, a lot. My mom would shoo us out on warm summer days, cool fall or snowing winter ones and we'd head off on adventures not possible today. We wandered all over the neighbourhood, climbed trees and played in places we thought only we knew about. Riding our bikes everywhere with lunches tucked into our back packs, we would return home dirty and tired but oh so happy with stories and excitement from a day of freedom. We had the life but little did we know that there were always eyes on us and our parents knew where we were more than we thought.
 Growing up in the late 70's and early 80's was a time when people still sat on their front porches and neighbours looked out for each other and their own with the same care. We didn't hide in our yards like today, closed off and independent of the world. We were connected to those around us by a network of phones, open doors and hellos. The people who lived next to you were an extension of your parents and you were respectful of them just because. We would feel like we ruled the neighbourhood and felt safe without even knowing it.
  I think back to those days and wonder if that transition from sitting out front to the secluded fenced-in back yard has done some real harm to how we live our lives. I feel less connected to my current town and I've lived here longer than anywhere else in my life. When we first moved in I tried to emulate the memories of my youth and sat on the front porch most days after work, trying to connect with the people around me. I'd say hello to the neighbours as they hurried from their cars to the front doors of their homes, busy with their lives and routines. I found the street empty most days, despite the presence of young families, most stayed in their yards or at structured play at an indoor play place. Kids don't wander free despite the fact that the world around us, at least theoretically, has never been safer. Connected by cell phone, we should be encouraging more outside time not less. As the years went on, I would spend fewer nights out front and the ubiquitous back deck was built. I love what my Grotto has become, the refuge from the world and a place of great happiness for me, but I still lament the passing of that community feeling the front porch gave us.
  We didn't know that as we rode around the streets of East Hamilton the network of Mom's, Granny's and others at home was at work. Looking for fun, we would spin around the school yard, creek and fields, having fun and creating our own worlds wherever we went. From building forts to racing down dangerously steep hills, we didn't think anyone was watching and were thrilled to be so free. But the reality is that we were always just one door away from help if trouble arose, you knew who you could run to when you needed it. It's probably a bit of nostalgia but a whole lot of reality as we see the elaborate yards people have built, hiding and cocooning away from the world. We don't reach out like we used to, no one would dare dream discipline or yell at kids today like was done when I was young. You knew if you did something wrong and got caught by the neighbour, your parents would come down on you with a vengeance. We had a connection that belied anything but giving a shit about where you lived. They did it because it was right and made the world a better place.
  I'm not sure when it all went south, but I know in my heart that part of the transformation was the building of monster houses with tiny backyards that were almost all deck. High fences to keep out prying eyes, we turned inward at the expense of community and we are poorer for it. I wish I could say if we had kids I would be different but I am probably kidding myself because that infection of perceived danger has made its' way into my life as well. I have become the guy who comes home, gets comfy and lives for the routine life lived in the yard. Devoid of a connection, our world has shrunk and we are poorer for it.
 I am sure there are great neighbourhoods out there, awesome neighbours who hang out and have fun, but in the larger picture, this is becoming an anomaly. I observe how people interact and see the closed doors and fences becoming more prevalent not less. We trust fewer people and hold closer the small nuclear family, leaving the world to others. Scared by the media and perceived threats, the leash of childhood freedom has been choked back to the yard and other supervised places, never to return. It makes me sad and I don't know what to do about it.
  Can we ever go back? Am I just pining for "the Good Old days"? Or am I really seeing the future as it is. Have we retreated to our castles, drawn the bridge and filled the moat. Protecting kids from harm is what we say, but are we depriving them of experiences that would help them grow as people by hiding from the world and not being part of the larger community. I wave to everyone I meet and say hello, I have long been taught to make the small talk required to build friendship and that came from how I was raised. We wanted to know our neighbours because they were part of our lives, celebrating the highs and coming together for support when things weren't so good. Is it different now? Ithink it is and I know we are lessened because of it. Maybe it's time I start sitting on the front stoop again, at least then I'm trying to do something positive and maybe I'll make a new friend or two. See you out there, stop in for a coffee, I've got the time.


Polk

500 Days

Cheers to 500 more!

  On November 21st, 2015 I did not have a beer.

  This was the last time that happened and now 500 days have come and gone with at least one pint in my glass.

  I'm not sure if I need a meeting or another beer.
  In those 500 days, I have written 1197 Instagram reviews, recorded 148 YouTube videos, composed 149 (now 150) blog posts and tried well over 1500 new craft beers. More importantly, I have met some truly amazing people that have brought much joy to my life. I wrote about making it an entire year last November (Has it been a Year Already?) and the sentiments still ring true another 135 days later. We have travelled to many new cities in search of great beer, seeing Quebec City for the first time is a prime example of that and become part of a community I didn't even know existed. 

Quebec City Taberbnac Beer Saint Crew

I never imagined that as I passed 40 I would be making so many new friends and getting to live a little of my dream of being a writer. People I would never have met in ten lifetimes have become dear friends and I am inspired daily by them.

With the OG Beer Saints in Durham

 It wasn't a goal to keep going every day past December 31st, 2016 and I gave some serious thought to doing the whole "Dry January" thing as I woke up on the 1st of this year clear headed for the first time in over 25 years. I admire the people that can have that kind of discipline and who are able to resist the temptations a delicious craft beer offers. I let the idea percolate again after my birthday week trip to 50 breweries around the province. Maybe just a day or a week without a beer wouldn't be so bad, I have a lot of great pictures and reviews just waiting to publish and could keep right on posting on social media without missing a step. I took a moment and stepped outside myself to look at where I was in my life and what not having a beer would do for me.  I considered if I needed the beer or just wanted it. Did it still have the power it used to over me or was I truly past the need to bury my problems behind an alcoholic haze.

Always a good day when I spend it with this lady.

 There are many nights I come home stressed to the very limits of my ability to deal with life. Work, family and the everyday worries of millions of people give rise to all manner of coping mechanisms and mine was always drinking. So where I used to come crashing through the door and within minutes be knee deep into a six pack of Brava Light or Pabst, I found myself resisting the urge to have a beer at all. Partly because I don't drink macro pounders anymore but also because I no longer view beer as a way to escape from my life. I purposely will settle into my chair and close my eyes to think and let go of whatever is bothering me. I may turn to writing down the issue so I can work it out through my own rambling style of communication. There are literally dozens of posts not published but merely written so I could let go of the problem that was troubling me and causing the return of my demons. It is only after I feel at peace that I will head to the fridge for, most often, my only beer of the day. This is what really happens here most nights. I know many people think I get hammered every day and I'll admit, it is very tempting sometimes to slip back into that comfortable numbness that used to envelope me as my mind slowly devolved into the darkness. But I do not want to find myself staring up at the ceiling surrounded by empty reminders of a night I drank to forget. I don't want to run from my problems, I've learned they just follow you anyway. The ability to understand why I drank so much allows me to identify and stop that behaviour more often now. Do I slip up sometimes? Rarely and becoming even closer to non existent. I don't want to miss out on the people who are a part of our lives and places we are getting to go. Being blackout drunk doesn't mean you had fun, it means you missed out on everything that happened.

A highlight I'll never forget. Brew day at Great Lakes!

   Craft just isn't better beer, it is a better way of life. So while perhaps I may or may not have a beer tomorrow or the next day, it is now my choice and not that of a man who was scared of his own mind. Clouding the "could have been's" and making it worse by getting drunk has lost its appeal despite the appearance of a non stop party on Social media. The beer I choose to drink now is for enjoying, savouring and exploring. It is a vehicle to a new and different way of life that still is evolving and changing as we go. I am grateful for all the new friends who embrace what I do and encourage me to pursue my dreams, no matter how crazy they seem. The people who read my posts, watch my videos or just hang out and talk  in real life are the real treasure I have gained in the last 500 days and that is what matters most.

One more because Kathryn is always making me look better!

 Thanks for hanging around and know that I am always and forever just a regular guy who wants to enjoy his time on this planet with some great friends, awesome beer and maybe the odd road trip. It's always a good day when you can wake up and not have to worry about what happened the night before. This train is just leaving the station and I don't want to miss a moment.

Raise your glass and your standards,
One beer at a time!


Cheers!


Polk

Cameron's Brewing Cask Night - Raising Pints and Sharing Laughs!

Everyone of these is a moment I cherish. What a night!

Make your way with me this past Friday to Cameron's Brewing Company and their quarterly Cask Night. Some of my favourite people in Craft beer work here and I always feel like I'm coming home whenever I get the chance to stop by. This night was a little more special because so many of the folks I know and love from Instagram were there and it made for an epic evening and a wee bit of a tired Polkaroo the next day.

From the moment you walk in the door you are welcomed with enthusiasm and a personal touch you find only in this community. The brewery is spotless and the music was pumping from the back. Eyeing the casks, I settled on Unfiltered Steamwhistle first and was pleasantly surprised by how much more malty it was. The regular is a ubiquitous selection in our house as it can be enjoyed by even the non craft drinkers who visit. Mrs. Polkaroo is a huge Steamwhistle fan and returned again and again for this treat of a beer.

I headed back toward the front and the Cameron's table next. They had a refreshing saison and one of my faves of the night in a Lager Noire that will be exclusive to Craft beer delivery service The Brew Box coming out soon. If you want to know what its like, I was lucky enough to get a bottle from Beer Saint Mike (Kanobi2000 on IG) and enjoyed it with relish. Review as always on my IG, Drunk Polkaroo So many more choices awaited and I ventured off to explore even more.

Two beauties right here.

It did seem every time I turned around, more friends, new and old, came into my path. Fellow beer writer Don Redmond (Check out his blog here) was already there with his pal from BC, Liz. His infectious joy at all things craft and his ever present smile made the start to my evening go up over the top and it was only 7:30. We haven't been able to spend a lot of time outside of our online friendship so it was wonderful to be able to actually talk beer with one of my favourite beer bloggers.

Great beer minds think and apparently dress alike! Donny is the best!

Moving a little forward into the brewery, past the bright tanks and fodder, I encountered my old friend from Innocente Brewing, Craig, manning the casks of strawberry Conscience and a Peach Hefe. The nose on the Conscience was so full of the berry and it was a pleasant way to enjoy a great IPA. Hefe with peach is a great idea and one I might bring to the table for our next homebrew project.

These two were spot on. Innocente does things right!

As always, I encountered even more friends and for the first time came face to face with Danielle (Fiona Face on IG) and fellow beer geek Brett, whose IFindBeerEnjoyable Instagram is full of the most amazing pictures of Craft beer. Meeting in the real world, I was immediately drawn in by their pure happiness and smiling faces. So wonderful that the people I meet are exactly like they are online and  I cannot wait to head up north in the fall to spend some real quality time with these two fine folks.

The beer was awesome, but these two were even better. Raising glasses and friendship in the barrel room.

 Someone who I had been lucky enough to spend a little time with before, Robin (BeerCoreDroid on IG) is another explorer of the world of craft. His palate is one of the best I've encountered and we keep trying to make plans for a collaboration homebrew. It will happen and it will be delicious. He also had the Beer Saint moment of the night when he dropped 2 bottles of Halo Brewing's beer into my hands as well as a whale of a beer in Oskar Blues Ten Fidy. I can't tell you how overwhelmed I still am by his generosity and cannot wait to raise a few next month with my good friend.

The man who has taken being a Beer Saint to a whole other level.

Onward into the night we travelled and when I saw that Ash Ritchie (loads of great pics of her Insta here) had arrived I was so happy. I haven't had much time to chat with her lately and she is recovering from a rather nasty bout with something that knocked her out of commission for a while. She was back to to her old self Friday night and it was my pleasure to be able to spend time with this positive force in the craft beer world.

The undefeatable Ash Ritchie.

What night out would be complete without some time spent with two of our first friends made in craft beer, Joan and Steven (CraftBeerandBacon on IG). We have raised pints and shared meals with these amazing people, talked late into the night and traded our favourite beers. They were the inspiration for Beer Saints and continue to be two of my favourite people whom I've had the pleasure of getting to know.

Four beer friends reunite and all is right with the world

We didn't come alone to Cameron's as my decade long beer drinking pal Brett (WobbleyMoose on IG) and his pregnant wife and DD Leanne joined us. They've been there for the hell of macro over consumption and with their world about to change forever, I am glad the light has dawned and I am here to see it happen. We may grow old, but never apart

We don't get wobbley much anymore, but better beer makes us smile!

 What night out would be complete without the lovely Kat by my side. As Mrs. Polkaroo, she is the perfect companion to my travels and it is a great joy for me to watch her try new beers. It might get a little more expensive on my beer runs as she is coming to love so many more craft beers. She's my anchor in the storm and these events are even better when she is with me.

 

All smiles and with Kat by my side, there isn't anything more I need in the world.

 There were so many more beer friends that we ran into but of course I am a talker and not a photographer, so I will try to catch you all at the next event for a picture. Big thank you again to the people who work at Cameron's. From owner and president Bill Coleman and his passion for making great beer to the guys and gals working the front and back, you made my night with this one. Truth be told, the rebrand, new beers and direction taken by this 19 year old brewery speaks volumes about all of you. I can't wait to see what the celebrations are going to bring when you turn 20 next year. You know the Instagram crew will be there, cheering and drinking with you as we raise pints to one of the finest Ontario Craft beer brewers out there.

Cheers!

 

Raise your glass and your standards with great beer and people at Cameron's Brewing Cask Night!

Growing Up Happy - Part 1

My Childhood

That hair!

My childhood was wholly unremearkable. Please don't try to misconstrue that in any way other than positive. I was lucky and privileged enough to be born in a time when one parent could stay home and manage the household on a single salary. My father worked at Stelco, the local steel mill, and my mother was the one who stayed with us, being on call for 4 kids whenever we needed her. Not wealthy, but decidedly middle class, we grew up never wanting for the basics and occasionally splurging on luxuries. Growing up in a large family and being the oldest meant I knew responsibility early and was always on the lookout for my brothers and sister.



So young and over 40 years later, still beautiful.

My earliest memories play around the edges of real or nostalgia. All day bike rides with our only connection to home being that it was our neighbourhood and the people who lived there looked out for one another. We had to be home for dinner, but lunch would often be some sandwiches and a precious can of pop tucked into your backpack. Out again as soon as the dishes were done, we would pause only when the streetlights came on and begrudgingly head home, with promises to meet up with our friends the next day.

Pictures were a luxury, as you had no idea if they turned out and getting the film produced cost money that would be better spent on groceries or the ever growing kids in our family. Yet we have album after album of smiling faces, family events and road trips that brought so much joy to our lives. We may have thousands of pictures on our computers now, but none of them compare to those dusty photos of 4 kids and their parents having fun. Smiling faces and happy eyes make me see just how much my parents gave us.

That time we met Gordie Howe!

Summer meant vacation and for my mom, that meant no rest from the demands of 4 busy kids. She always kept us moving, taking us on day trips, making sure we ate and engaging our obsessions, which would change from day to day as we found new and exciting things happening in the world. Our house was often the focal point for all of our friends as its joyful demeanour was a respite from their own chaotic lives. The pool was always full and one of the first outdoor responsibilities that we learned after gardening was if you wanted to have your friends over, you had to vacuum the pool. It prepared me for the many parties I would host over the decades. Always make the house ready and you can enjoy your time with friends. No one was ever turned away from that house on Glassco, the door swung open at all hours and even though I was a kid, I knew my parents were constantly helping those who needed it.

Still cute together and always up for an adventure

Occasionally and with great anticipation, we would go away for a vacation. I can't even begin to imagine the logistics of packing 4 kids, sometimes a dog and all their perceived needs into a car and either going camping or in later years to my Aunt Jennette's cottage in Wasaga Beach. These trips were extra special because it meant that Dad didn't have to work and we could spend some time with him away from the stress of his job. Like most kids whose mother stayed home and father worked, I didn't understand how hard they both worked and it is only with the wisdom of age that I see what they did. A vacation for us kids meant beaches, swimming and other sunny adventures. For my mom, it meant taking care of the 5 of us in another place with more dirt and less amenities. But we never knew or felt that. She always smiled and made sure we were taken care of first. I don't think she ate a hot meal for most of our trips and always put our enjoyment first. It was selfless then and I can't help but marvel at how we never knew she was working so hard to make our lives so much fun. 

Dad always manned the BBQ and of course the Pie - Irons (essentially a cast iron sandwich maker that you use in the hot coals of the fire). Perhaps a beer in hand, he loved to grill up whatever mom had brought and if you were lucky, he'd let you have a little taste of what was cooking. I know now how hard he worked to provide us with everything we needed and the skills he taught me have made me the man I am today. While I inherited his quick temper, I also heeded his wisdom on how to contain it. We were always the focus of his attention, the jokes, stories and he was an involved presence at everything we did. Being a father in the late 70's and early 80's was far different than it is now and his very attentive and sympathetic way of listening and offering advice was years ahead of its time.Our later conflicts brought on more by our similarities than our differences, but the bond forged in my childhood never let me doubt his love.

The boys are forever best friends.
We may not see each other often, but the love is always there.

 All of these memories come from that warm place inside my heart. I can feel the love I was given and the safe embrace of home still resonates today. The things we did as a family and the happiness it created are what saved me when I was at my lowest years later. I always joke that any mistakes I made in life are no ones fault but my own because I had such an easy going childhood and a set of parents who supported me even when I didn't deserve it. All of this happened in a simple house, on a suburban street with two people who gave everything they had to make sure their kids grew up with a sense of family and joy at being part of something bigger than yourself.

Thank you Mom and Dad for always making us your priority, then and now.

 Your dedication to your family is a big part of why I smile when I think back to those days on Glassco and the glory of my youth.

 

The family has grown and the love has multiplied.