Beware the St. Ides of March

Yes that's right, as a time honored tradition here at the "Janglin" ranch, we once again, for the 37th year in a row, pay our yearly tribute to the disputed Duke of Forties, St. Ides. Now this beverage is one that can not be judged solely on our usual metrics. While we do take into account the eye, nose and mouthfeels, this malty dream is much, much more than that. The faint yellow color, funkified smell and corn malt taste are not what defines this heavenly brew. Oh no, you must look beyond the typical senses. You need to look at your seventh sense, your heart and soul. Because "the Ides" is about emotions and feelings. Everyone has a story about when they first, or even last, had this saintly forty ounces. It takes you back in time without pumping 1.21 gigawatz into a flux capacitor. It conjures so many feelings and stories, like some sort of alcoholic story telling quilt. More so than any other malt-ernative, I'd be willing to wager. For me it takes me back to my meager beginnings. Me and my "homeys" chillin' in the cal-de-sac, cranking our DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince cassette tape, discussing the difficulties of growing up as middle-class white males. I get a little choked up just thinking about it. Now sure it doesn't have the ringing endorsements of say, Colt 45, but for once planet Earth don't let Billy Dee Williams make your decisions for you! You may come up short in other categories St. Ides, but when it comes to Heartfeel, you will always, and I mean always, be a five in my books. I'm sure I speak for the rest of the "Janglers" when I say "the Ides" has a special place in all our hearts, and Bill's uvula.

Bottoms Up
Willie 3:16