A Little Can

I cannot let today go by without mentioning what national day it is.

It is National Beer Can Appreciation Day!

Before 1935 you couldn't get your beer in cans. Then manufacturing processes made it possible to use sturdy enough materials to form cans. The first ones were made of heavy gauge steel, which could withstand the pressure of carbonation and pasteurization.

The taste of the beer also had to be considered. The American Can Company developed a way of "keg-lining", which was lining the inside of a small can the way that the inside of a regular keg is lined. This was with something called Vinylite that the company Union Carbide had developed. (My father worked for Union Carbide many, many moons ago.) That way the metal would not alter the taste of the beer.

Having beer in cans was great, but how do you open one of those flat topped cylindrical things made of a heavy gauge steel? In 1933 American Can Company's Dewitt Sampson and John Hothersall received a patent for an opener they called a church key which would puncture the top of the can, leaving a triangular shape. Even after the availability of pop top cans you may have used one of these to open a can of tomato juice or good old Hawaiian Punch before the advent of the plastic bottle.

I found a very interesting website that has the illustrated history of the American Beer Can. You can click here to visit it.

I don't drink now, due to the medications I have to take to remain functioning, but beer is still near and dear to my heart. My wonderful friend Mark owns his own brewery. It is Chattanooga Brewing Company. If you clicked on the link, he is the one in the middle of the cover photo. He toiled for years in corporate America and when he saw the opportunity to follow his dream and take his home brewed recipes to the masses he took it. Last year they moved from the small space where the business started to a brand spanking new building and added a restaurant. I am so proud of him.

And they are at a point where they are now going to go into canning the beer. It is still a little ways off, but they will as soon as they are able.

This was not a solo endeavor for him. He has partners and brewers and staff. They are all fantastic people.

So you see why I was compelled to expound on the joy that is the vessel that makes many tailgates and parties so much fun to attend. Or, you can enjoy your beer in your own living room.

And, if you are in Chattanooga, TN, try some of Mark's on tap (soon to be in cans).

Fear Of Heights

I am afraid of heights. What am I not afraid of, though, right?

Yesterday Nik Wallenda walked a tightrope between two skyscrapers in Chicago, IL. Just the mention of it gives me chills. Below is a photo from ABC News.

Twenty years ago, though, I overcame my fear.

I was crew on a sailboat on Lake Erie. We were in Erie, PA. It was summertime. They were having a celebration on the nearby waterfront. The festivities included fireworks.

Now, I love fireworks. There was one problem. The steaming light on the mast was blown out. We needed this light to be able to lawfully navigate and there was only myself and the captain aboard.

The light in reference was at the top of a mast that stood 45 feet above the deck of the boat. That is pretty high, for me.

As the morning turned to afternoon I thought more and more about letting the captain hoist me up in a bosun's chair so that I could replace that light bulb. A bosun's chair, by the way, is simply a board for your butt and ropes to go around your legs. It is attached to a halyard, the line that raises sails, and the halyard is pulled, pulling you up the mast.

I must have gotten in that chair a dozen times, chickening out each time. Finally I turned to liquid courage. I had a beer. That didn't do it. I had another. Then I waited a bit. At last, I had a third and with that the liquid courage took hold and I allowed him to hoist me up.

Once I got up there, it was no big deal. I replaced the light bulb, we made sure it worked, and he lowered me back to the deck.

We sailed to the festivities and had a lovely time as the fireworks filled the night sky.

Would I do it again today? No. I am now landlocked and sail no more, and I no longer drink. But I am glad that I can recall the time that I faced my fear and, with the help of a little liquid courage, made it a night to remember instead of regret.