A Few Thoughts on Beverage Snobbery

I'm about to irritate my friends who brew beer at home or prefer high-octane "craft" microbrews, and I apologize. You guys make some interesting, high-quality beverages. The names alone are amusing, and the types and flavors range from light lagers to seriously dark porters, doppelbocks, and stouts. They are interesting for sampling purposes, but if I'm going to be at a ball game or picnic out in the hot sun for a few hours, quite frankly I'd just like a Budweiser.



Finished grousing about my horrid taste in beer? Great. Beer, to me, is a pedestrian form of alcohol, used in pedestrian, low-stress environments, such as the above-noted picnics or ball games. I never understood the need or desire to make beer "upscale," nor the need to up the alcohol to 8-10%.

Beer, for me, is a thirst-quenching form of alcoholic beverage. I like the flavor, but I don't really need to pay that much attention to it. I think the first non-amber-colored beer I had was Killian's Red, and that was sometime in the '90s. I tried tasting some of the more exotic beverages when I moved to the DC area and pedestrian beers were hard to come by (the most common mass-produced beer on tap there is Sam Adams). A lot of them I was either allergic to (hefe weissesn, Belgian, and wheat beers) or they upset my stomach (Imperial Pale Ales, porters). So I went back to basics. I will enjoy an English brown ale now and then (Fuller's London Pride or ESB being my favorites) or the occasional Harp or Guinness. But really, I like my beer simple and boring.

I guess the point is that I've given up on beverage snobbery. My taste in beer (according to the aficionados) is appalling and pedestrian. Fine. I like a simple beer.

My taste in wine often has a great deal to do with how much money I have at the time. Case in point: that same store in Alexandria, VA, that sold all the high-end beers also sold a variety of high-end wines. Occasionally I'd treat myself to one of their rather pricey bottles. I shopped there often enough that one or two of the cashiers recognized me. One in particular asked what I was going to do with the bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau. I explained that I planned on making a sangria with it, to which she replied, "That's all it's good for." And what would she have said if I'd planned on just drinking it with dinner? One Christmas I got a coupon for 10% off a case of wine. I thought, what the heck, just got a bonus, live large! This same cashier, knowing my shopping habits, said, in a not particularly kind tone, "You do know that's for 10 percent off a case, right?" As if I couldn't read or couldn't afford it if I could. Really now. Get over yourself, Ms. Cashier.

I can't recall encountering a whole lot of snobbery among drinkers of whiskey, but there is some. For flavor, I happen to like Jim Beam Red Stag. However, my go-to guy for advice on the beverage thinks it's garbage. Another friend and I enjoy Jim Beam Devil's Cut, which is another mass-produced brand. It appears that if you are confident to walk into a place and order an expensive name-brand glass of whiskey, no one is going to argue with your taste. However, don't order from the well drinks. That's a social no-no.

And on and on it goes. As people concentrate their creativity on anything from flower-growing to raising vegetables to making beverages, some learn and develop better methods than others. And as consumers likewise consume on these products, they come to develop their own vocabulary for defining what differentiates "the good stuff" from the rest. I have no problem with this expertise and in fact I rely on it when I'm looking for recommendations. Occasionally, the beer/wine/whiskey snob attitude gets to be a bit much. And yes, I've had to learn to rein in my own attitudes, as I've got friends who prefer boxed wine or "wine with a retail value no higher than $10."

This whole line of thought came to me yesterday. A lady in the snooty grocery store near me was looking at the wine shelves in fear and dismay. She was having a steak dinner with her husband and informed me that she hadn't had wine in 20 years. "It's gotten overwhelming," she said, and asked me for help. I pointed her to a mass-produced Merlot (Barefoot--I had the same brand in my fridge) and wished her well. It was low-cost, had a decent enough flavor, and wasn't overly "crafty." And, like I said, I had some at home myself. I suppose, given the "special occasion," I could have steered her toward something pricier, but 1) I didn't work at the store, and 2) I figured if you're just introducing yourself to wine, you're better off starting inexpensively and working your way up. Hopefully she and her husband had a nice evening.

I thought about her actual fear afterward. Beverage snobbery can be so bad, it seems, that a person new to experience might fear being embarrassed at the checkout counter because they bought the "wrong" brand. Such intimidation is unnecessary. As someone informed me when I first started trying to broaden my palette, "The best wine is the one that's right for you." And on that note, I just realized I'm out of Budweiser. Have a splendid day!

Myers-Briggs, Culture Wars, and the Avant-Garde

In the process of reading The Introvert Advantage, a few facts converged in my mind:

• Extroverts outnumber introverts 3 to 1 in the general populace.
• The science, space, and engineering communities that I support (as a semi-extroverted introvert, I'll note) are dominated by introverts.
• My extroverted friend Darlene the Science Cheerleader has been fighting against stereotypes and for broader public participation in science- and technology-related debates.
• Awhile back, I wrote an article about the arrival of professionals (i.e., extroverted marketing types) into the space advocacy business.

It has since occurred to me that the "two cultures" identified by C. P. Snow in the early 1960s were misidentified. The war might not be between cultures but between temperaments: between the introverts and the extroverts.

Consider a few side effects of being introverted:

• Natural quietude and deep (internalized) thinking.
• A tendency to focus deeply on topics of personal interest, often in compensation for social awkwardness.
• A tendency to believe, often rightly, that others don't understand you or your interests.

The result of these introverted tendencies is a long-running snobbery by introverted and technically minded individuals against generally socially minded extroverts. This snobbery is not limited to the science or engineering worlds, however; introverted artists often exhibit pessimistic or depressive outlooks and tend to look down on optimistic extroverts (e.g. cheerleaders).

What, then, is the "culture war" or "temperament war" about? I think it has to do with influence, power, and money. There are many, many more extroverts than introverts, yet introverts often monopolize the cultures of high technology and the arts, which generate much of the wealth in this country. The majority wants a piece of the action.

That is why "geek" is now more chic.

That is why fantasy, science fiction, and comic book-based movies are now the big money makers in Hollywood.

That is why the shape of space exploration is shifting toward a more participatory activity.

That might be why we have our first nerd President.


"Geek" might be chic, but the extroverts are taking over, and they now want their say on issues which, up to now, were controlled by introverts because they were the only ones with enough interest to pay attention to them.

So what will be the end result of this invasion of the introverts' domain by extroverts? Speaking as a moderately extroverted introvert, if I had to guess I'd say that as "geek space" becomes more mainstream, the introverts will move on to other, even more esoteric interests, ideas, art forms, and technologies.

Introverts might not say much, but they do keep the avant-garde moving steadily onward, continually pushing the boundaries of the human experience. So the "war" won't be won or lost. Instead, the introverts will simply move the battle lines somewhere they can get a little peace and quiet. As with anything avant-garde, by the time the avant-garde has become mainstream, the frontier has already moved on, simply because introverts hate crowds.

The Gulf Between the Parties

I wanted to share an illuminating discussion with a friend of mine. Mostly to the left of center, he manages to get along with me because I don't insist on having my way in our various political discussions. He expresses himself in a jovial and logical way, and thus I can engage in conversation with him without things getting too heated. Anyhow, he said that the difference between himself, as a liberal, and most conservatives was that he had no problem with a) the government providing "free" healthcare or b) paying more taxes.

Well, my thought after the fact (and I know he reads this blog occasionally, so of course I'll be diplomatic) was, "If you want to pay more taxes, be my guest. You have an opportunity every April 15. But don't presume that I share your willingness to let the government take more of my money."

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As near as I can tell, the difference in attitude between left and right lies in the perception of the individual and their relationship to society.

The American liberal mindset says, "The primary social entity is the state, and it is the responsibility of the state to see that right is done to the greatest number. Individuals cannot be trusted to do what is right unless required to by human authority. It falls to an enlightened few to exercise that authority."

The American conservative mindset says, "Individuals are the most important social entities; they each know best how to pursue their own ends, and they will support themselves or provide charity to others in accordance with their personal conscience. Everyone has the opportunity to be in government, but everyone is also subject to the same flawed human nature, so no one should act like they're better than anyone else."

Now imagine these two viewpoints trying to figure out how to "fix" this mortgage mess. One side believes in government pledging support for those in need in some sort of latter-day noblesse oblige; the other side emphasizes individual responsibility in a sort of Darwinian "put up or shut up" scenario. Is it any wonder Congress is at an impasse? (Though I must point out that the Democrats, with control of both houses, could pass a bailout bill today, if they really wanted to.)

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Another political behavior that's become of great concern to me of late, not with my friends, but within the blogosphere and various social networking pages is the utter dismissiveness of one side toward the other. This dismissiveness can take many forms, the most obvious of which is snobbery: if someone isn't Ivy-League-educated, of the right social class, associating with the right groups, or on the "correct" side of certain issues, they are beneath contempt. If they're not from Blue State America or agreeing with the ideas prevalent in those places, then they're gun-toting, Bible-thumping, inbred hicks.

Sarah Palin is simply the latest Republican target because she represents all of this, as did George W. Bush, Ronald Reagan, and Dwight D. Eisenhower before her. And why is it that Republicans are always cast by the nation's major newspapers or television news outlets as fools and idiots while the Democrat candidates are always depicted as superior, nuanced, or possessed of higher, better knowledge? Could it be that the individuals working in those news outlets share that snobbery and contempt for the people and beliefs Republicans represent? Perish the thought!

Occasionally, I hear, "Oh, but you're different, Bart. You're pretty nice, for a Republican/conservative." Good grief, is that supposed to be a compliment? I want to respond, "Well, gosh, thanks. And you're not too condescending, for a Democrat." I mean, really! What would you say?

The Romans had this problem, once upon a time. Cicero, perhaps Rome's greatest Senator and orator, was a provincial, and so was subject to mockery of this sort. And no doubt it has happened in every large society humankind has ever built. But d@mmit, this is America. We're supposed to be better than that. We're supposed to believe that "All men are created equal." Perhaps it's time we took a step back and asked ourselves whether we really believe that still and if so, what do we mean when we say it.

Brief Blurb on Bad Leadership and Snobbery

This line of thought was spurred by a comment from a friend, not due to anything that's happened to me recently. My friend explained that she was ignored by some high-ranking suits on an elevator and then given suspicious looks when she got off the elevator on the "executive suite" floor with them, as if they questioned her right to be there.

There are certain traits that have always bugged me about people in positions of authority or high social status/position, which is why I try not to emulate them or get into positions of authority (I’m as susceptible as anyone—lead me not into temptation). The things I don't like include:

• Being ignored as a person because I’m not of the right rank.
• Being treated as a lesser person because of my position.
• Being bullied or pushed around unnecessarily simply because someone in authority wants something.

I accept the concept of, and need for, rank in organizations. I even understand the need to expect higher levels of service based on higher prices. However, I’ve always distinguished between the position and the person. It’s the difference between respecting the office of the President, for instance, and not respecting that person's behavior. Or the difference between accepting that “Rank hath its privileges” but that “All men are created equal.” Rank and status are limited social features of a representative republic. We have aristocracies of merit, money, talent, privilege, political power, and aesthetic beauty, but the saner among us realize that those aristocracies are (or should be) limited in scope.

Unfortunately, some people just let the rank go to their head (or worse, let others' ranks go to their head), forgetting that, once off duty, these people have to put their pants on one leg at a time and that, oh yeah, they have to deal with people who don’t know or care what their special rank or power is. I'm not anti-aristocracy, anti-management, anti-leadership, anti-merit, or anti-rank; I'm simply anti-snob.

The Price of Living the Good Life

To help along my Generation X mindset research, I asked my sister, "What was different when we were kids that doesn't occur now?" One thing that surprised me through the '90s and continues into the '00s is the steadily rising standard of living among my tribe--that being middle-class WASP folk living in the suburbs. I heard it once called "affluenza," which one book describes as "a painful, contagious, socially-transmitted condition of overload, debt, anxiety and waste resulting from the dogged pursuit of more."

Maybe it's because my sister, mother, and I grew up relatively poor for much of the late '70s and early '80s that we're more sensitive to such things. My sister told me a few years ago that she "couldn't look rich people in the eye," as if she was somehow subservient or ashamed of who she was. I laughed at her (perhaps cruelly), and said, "Sweetie, have you looked at your house lately? You are among the rich!" Three bedrooms, 3,000-odd square feet? That's a big 'un!

Anyhow, either by choice or circumstance, I've lived below my potential standard of living by concentrating my expenditures on books, beer, and travel. My one foray in property owning lasted nine months, after which I found a dream job in Huntsville and sold the place at a loss. The place seemed a bit extravagant for me: a condo with enough room for a bedroom, living room, dining room, and office. Now I'm back to a one-bedroom hovel as I pay off my debts from the condo loss, car, and student loans. 2009 is looking better, good enough that I can contemplate a trip to Europe without freaking out.

But I don't have a lot of "toys" or consumer debt. In this I might be an exception. No stereo, no big-screen TV, no video games, and (perhaps as a saving grace) no interest in any of the above. I make a weekly visit to Barnes & Noble. Occasionally I go out for lunch or dinner. My forced fast from adult beverages has reduced those expenses, which is just as well. I like living in a dive apartment in the middle of an affluent neighborhood, mind you. Nice place to walk around. But I don't have a lot of material demands.

Which finally brings me to my subscription to Wine Spectator, a semi-weekly magazine dedicated to discussing and rating fine wines from around the world. I picked up WS in an effort to blend in with the highfalutin' set inside the Beltway. If I couldn't afford the lifestyle, I could at least learn to speak the lingo. It didn't help, of course. My middle-class palette preferred flavors that came with a price tag below $25 a bottle. Some of the high-powered vinos had flavors that I can vaguely describe as peat bog and horse apples. I did visit the local snooty wine shop once a week to try stuff for free and futilely educate my palette, though more often than not I ended up buying a single bottle of something under $15 or a six-pack of beer. As an extravagance one Christmas, I brought in a coupon for 10% off a case. I dutifully presented the coupon to the clerk, who knew me, and warned her I was off to shop. Knowing my buying habits, she said, "You do realize that this coupon is for a case, right?" Her tone indicated that she thought I couldn't afford it, which almost caused me to turn around and give her the finger on the way out the door. (And people wonder why I left DC so gleefully.)

Anyhow, the latest issue of Wine Spectator rates the 2005 Bordeaux, which apparently are the best vintage to hit the shelves since 2000. One handy tool the Spectator offers is a tear-out shopping guide that summarizes its best picks for that issue. The "Bordeaux Report" features wines rated from 95 to 100 points, which makes sense: why read a magazine that's rating Night Train or MD 20/20? The kicker is, these wines start at $75 a bottle and quickly slide up the scale to $2,000 a bottle for a Chateau Ausone St. Emillion! Who the hell has the money for this? What in God's name do you do with a $2,000 bottle of wine? What's a suitable occasion? What do you eat with it?

Okay, my remedially educated palette can appreciate the difference between, say, a $35 bottle of Mulderbosch Cabernet and a $7.99 bottle of Concha y Toro Cabernet/Merlot blend, but my current budget horizons and middle-class prejudices balk at a bottle wine rising to such heights. But then I have friends who refuse to drink any wine with a retail value higher than $10 or with a temperature warmer than 65 degrees. In their world, I'm a wine snob. In the world of wine snobs, I'm a piker, a peasant. It does stop the tongue to consider that there are folks out there willing and able to shell out two grand for 750 mL of fermented grape juice.

Do I even want to aspire to such riches? Sure, I guess. But if I'm so careless as to part with my money in such a way, what else would I be careless about? It's the Great Gatsby attitude, of course. In that book, F. Scott Fitzgerald's protagonist took a couple of rich snobs to task for being "careless with people." It's an attitude born to someone who has never had a maid or a driver or valet. In some ways, I guess, I understand my sister's attitude about not being willing to look "rich people" in the eye. The service industry (which, as I learned from years of working in it, is slowly devolving into a servant industry) slowly beats subservience into you and can leave you with a distaste for serving your fellow human beings. The American democrat (lower-case "d") in me has a mental block about treating someone better than I'd treat myself just because they have more money than I do. That is the nature of the hospitality business, and I understand, believe me. That's why I don't work in hotels anymore. It's not for everyone. It drove me nuts after awhile. It's also why I don't abuse service-industry staff. Been there, done that, hated it. They're still people, dammit, and they don't deserve to be treated as if they were invisible just because I'm paying for the service they provide.

Does this mean I'm ready to upend the whole system and overthrow The Man? Hardly. My home country has become richer, and me along with it. I've gone from service provider to service consumer. All these attitudes have probably warped me a tad. I'm a soft touch when it comes to tipping service industry personnel. I don't date above my station. (Back in college, I once told a female friend that I felt uncomfortable in her parents' home because I wasn't used to hanging around rich people.) I nearly flipped when I went to a party at a friend of a friend and they had an honest-to-Deus housekeeper on staff to clean up after the party. The rules of my tribe are not laws of nature, as Shakespeare noted well, but dammit, my tribe has had a certain kind of rough justice to it.

What happens when I get free of my major debts and I'm able to afford some of these finer things that give me such pause now? Well, if I am as good as my word, I'll at least increase the amount of money I spend on charitable works. And for gosh sakes, I hope I never forget what it's like to be the guy taking the tip.