The Hon. Steve Hogan

Steve Hogan, mayor of my hometown of Aurora, Colorado, died yesterday. He went fast; it was only two months ago he announced he had cancer. I didn't know him well, but he struck me as a kind and decent man. 

When my Cub Scout den was required to visit a public official, I found the mayor's e-mail address on the Aurora government website. I was surprised that he personally replied to my request, given that Aurora is the 54th largest city in these United States. He took it upon himself to meet my Cub Scouts on a Monday evening and personally gave us a tour of the city council chambers, the municipal building, and his office. He was patient with my boys, who seemed most interested in a candy dish.

I'm sorry he's gone. We need more of his sort in high office and public life.

Another reason I will never leave Colorado

After last week's Bible camp in the bucolic Black Hills of South Dakota, I'm done with all the out-of-state travels planned for this summer, and apparently just in the nick of time. According to this survey, Colorado's are amongst the most polite in these United States. From this, I can only conclude that the rest of the nation has been overtaken by war boys on motorcycles festively bedazzled with human skulls, riding in convoy with mutants playing flame-throwing electric guitars across the apocalyptic landscape in search of potable water and oil refineries.

On the upside, there probably aren't any highways left onto which fellow drivers won't let you merge.

Another argument for books

As a people, the citizens of the great state of Colorado are united in their confidence in the superiority of Coloradan beer to that of the not-quite-as-great state of Oregon. Sadly, our unity is sorely tested when the craft beer scene of Denver is pitted against that of the All-America city of Aurora. 

(Just how "All-America" is Aurora? Mayor Steve Hogan, an Eagle Scout, personally answered an e-mail I sent to him through the city's website and then gave my Cub Scout den a tour of City Hall. That's how All-America Aurora is. 

But I digress.)

The breweries of both Aurora and Denver multiply at a dizzying pace, and even a dedicated IPA man such as my humble self is torn between Dry Dock's Hop Abomination, Station 26's Juicy Banger, and Comrade Brewing's Superpower. I have also been known to wax rhapsodic about Copper Kettle's Helles Lager. Living in Aurora and working in Denver, I have, like so many others, had my loyalties sorely tested.

That is, until the Aurora Public Library upped Aurora's beer game.

In 2016, the Library system offered a truly amazing deal. Visit four Aurora breweries, get an Aurora Library pint glass. Visit seven, and get a 64 oz. growler. As you will not be surprised to observe, I ended up with two pint glasses and the growler, which is even more impressive given the number of times I forgot to bring my "passport" when stopping by one of the participating taprooms.

In your face, Denver. And I won't even deign to mention how far in the dust this leaves Portland and its lumberjack-bearded hipsters. The Presbyterian Curmudgeon is too classy for that.

In praise of MillerCoors

Even I have expressed cynicism about the way the AC Golden brewery is less than forthcoming about being simply another room in the massive Coors facility in Golden, Colorado, but I have enjoyed its Colorado Native lager since it first appeared here in the Centennial State. Not only has AC Golden backed up that lager's name by making it available only in Colorado, they've made good use of that MolsonMillerCoors money by paying Coloradan hops growers three times the market rate to ensure a local crop.

Three times.

It would appear that even a ginormous, soulless corporation whose founder had the misfortune to be named "Adolph" can love Colorado enough to not only not buy the cheapest ingredients (which would come from Washington state), but to pay triple in order to, for all intents and purposes, create a local supply chain.

Coors. I won't drink the beer with that name, but I'll raise a glass of Colorado Native to the corporation.

Free replacement caps!

I don't know what it's like to raise children at sea level; indeed, given the unhealthy vapors and miasmas so common at lower altitudes, one is somewhat surprised that any child raised there survives to maturity. While the health benefits of living on the western edge of the Great American Desert and the foothills of the Rocky Mountains are too many to enumerate here, one must be on guard against dehydration. Thus, all children carry water bottles, and water bottles thus become the bane of the high-altitude parent. When said children don't lose them, they chew on the mouthpieces and turn the bottles into portable puddle-makers.

Like many Coloradan families, ours has ended up with more bottles than lids. I have been particularly saddened when this occured to Polar Bottles, which are not only insulated but, in their 24-ounce size, carry enough water for a walk around the block. (Did I mention hydration is important up here?) Before throwing out a couple of these bottles yesterday, I thought I'd try to find replacement caps online. Having found none on eBay or Amazon, in desperation I went to the manufacturer's site. There I was pleasantly surprised to learn it will ship replacement caps to all its water bottles for FREE. As one might expect, I immediately fainted, but upon recovery placed an order for two.

Perhaps we shouldn't be suprised Polar Bottle is a Colorado company.

And now I'm drinking Coors

Decades ago, Coors had a legendary status in these United States. Being available only in Colorado, people (okay, men) would buy cases to bring home to lower altitudes. Since it went nationwide, though, its cachet in colorful Colorado has diminished more than somewhat. The new standard has become Fat Tire, brewed in Ft. Collins. Next time you're in our great state, ask the server what any ale or lager on the beer menu tastes like. Odds are, the answer will be "Kind of like Fat Tire," and never, never "Coors." Despite having resided here well over a decade, I think the only time I ever sampled the latter was upon a visit to the brewery in Golden.

When I was recently in the Argonaut liquor store (yes, I have a loyalty card) with Thing 2 (who began loudly proclaiming "I like beer!"- great moments in parenting), I ran across a display of Colorado Native Lager. Being the father of three to four Colorado natives myself, I decided to pick up a six-pack. Reading the label, I was particularly interested by finishing hops in a lager, but what triggered alarm bells in my Colorado-trained mind was its praise of water from the Rocky Mountains. Sure enough, the brewery turned out to be "AC Golden Brewing Company:" i.e., Coors. The beer has its own website (of course), and while it's no more forthcoming than the bottle about its provenance in the MillerCoorsMolson empire, it doesn't completely hide it, either. Anybody who has ever driven along west along I-70 knows what brewery is in that picture.

Having completely abandoned its Colorado native identity by allowing itself to be absorbed first by Canadians and then by midwesterners, it appears Coors is attempting to reclaim its Rocky Mountain pride through a pseudo-craft brewery hidden deep within the bowels of Golden. I can't quite figured out their marketing strategy, but I must say I like the lager. The Rocky Mountain water is, unsurprisingly, overrated as an ingredient. However, it has lovely citrus notes and the hops give it a nice kick on the back end, a pleasant surprise in a lager. I've always wondered what the mysterious appeal of Coors was back in the day, but if Colorado Native Lager is a return to that recipe of yore, I might finally understand.