Armenian Rhapsody

Salt Lake City Weekly, UT
Nov 17 2004

Armenian Rhapsody

by John Saltas

I have this friend I’ll call Auburn. Not that he doesn’t like seeing
his name in print, but Homeland Security being what it is, there’s no
real reason to reveal his true identity. One never knows. Anyway,
Auburn thinks I can’t write a column without mentioning a particular
Balkan country known in the early part of this century for importing
into America a great number of swarthy men willing to work for cheap
wages in unsafe working conditions. Remember, the key word here is
`work,’ so if you’ve guessed Albania, guess again.

I imagine it’s safe to say I may have annoyed Auburn. So much so that
he’s willing to make a bet with me. His bet is that if I don’t
mention this particular country renowned for its feta cheese and
buxom women, he will pay me 45 minutes worth of drinking my favorite
elixir, VO whiskey, which is blended just to my liking just up north
a ways in Canada. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of fine
American distilleries. I’m just practicing for the day, if ever, that
I can actually get all of my medications from Canada. Which will be
never, by the way.

If I do mention this land of olives and shouting merchants, I will
pay him 45 minutes worth of drinking his favorite elixir, beer. He
noted in his bet that he preferred a particular favorite brand of
American beer. I don’t like seeing people suffer, so I’m going the
extra mile here in order to win lest he overindulge in a fluid that
is simply not up to worldwide taste standards. I’m not an attorney,
so I can’t make out a particular clause in his betting document that
sets the parameters of what constitutes exactly a mention of this
particular place where many people are named George, Nick, Maria and
Sophia.

Assuming I may have lost already, I’ll pay him off instead with what
are now my two favorite imported beers, Kotayk and Kilikia. They’re
not brewed in the aforementioned land that is mercifully devoid of
LaVars and Britneys, but in Armenia.

As most American schoolchildren surely know, Armenia is the home to
Mount Ararat, a revered holy place liberally mentioned in the Old
Testament of the Bible, but now just an afterthought to many
modern-day Christians who prefer the passages that reign terror on
such groups as homosexuals. As those school kids can also attest,
Armenia became settled by one of the hallmark cultures of early
civilization, the Sumerians. As luck would have it, the Sumerians
were not only good with the alphabet but with brewing beer.

Explorers and conquerors from the land I cannot mention made it to
Armenia a few centuries before Christ was born. Thus, they also found
beer. Since they pretty much ruled things back then, beer found its
way to ports all over the world. That’s just one more reason people
such as Auburn should go soft on me: If not for the people from the
land with great ships and strong armies, we might be drinking mead
while hoping for a Ute win this weekend.

I had a couple of Kotayks and a Kilikia this weekend at the
Leprechaun Inn and at Cedars of Lebanon. I’ve always believed the
Irish are trendsetters. And Lord knows I like the Lebanese. I prefer
Kotayk beer, as it is more of a lager style, but Kilikia holds its
own, too, if you prefer Pilsners. Both beers are new to Utah. I’d
imagine that the Bayou carries them, too. The spot where Auburn hangs
out might not have the cooler space, so come collection time, if I
lose, the payoff will have to take place elsewhere. Sorry, Jerz.

While conducting my Kotayk and Kilikia research, I happened upon yet
another aggravation of Utah liquor laws. You know those little blue
DABC stickers that are on all the liquor sold in state liquor stores
and clubs? Each one adds a nickel to the price of that individual
bottle or can of beer. All it says is something like `Utah DABC’ and
is about half the size of a postage stamp. A nickel. That’s a $1.20
additional cost for each case of beer. Kotayk and Kilikia both
already have that disclaimer printed right on their labels, yet an
additional label with a 5-cent price tag is required for some
reason – uh, let’s milk those sinners for all they’re worth perhaps?
Happily, those funds go to our school kids so they can study their
ABC’s – Armenia, Beer and Cuneiform writing.

As good as I think those Armenian beers are, I don’t think I’m going
to smuggle any into Rice-Eccles stadium this Saturday. Beer’s a bit
too wieldy for me. I’m going to stick with the standard 99-cent
plastic flask. My buddy Joe Caputo buys them in bunches at Kirkham’s.
He’s a former Vietnam combat Marine, and I believe he knows a thing
or two about packing light and sneaking through enemy lines. I’m
always grateful when he empties out his ammo canister and hands one
over to me. I’m even more grateful because he’s already filled it up,
usually with Crown Royal, which I can’t afford. That’s just what the
doctor ordered: a flask of Crown Royal and a thumping to that team
from down south.

I’ve seen too many upsets in sports to get uppity, though. However, a
Ute win would bring unprecedented joy not only to Ute fans, but to
everyone else getting screwed by the BCS. Another nice side effect of
a Ute win is that all those people stuck in the woe-is-me Kerry funk,
might actually snap out of it. To Auburn. To Armenia. To Utah by 5 – at
least.

Staff Box

Bill Frost: College football is sooo cute! It’s almost like real
football. But, since I didn’t attend either university, I don’t
really care – since the U probably has hotter cheerleaders, I’ll go
Red. Drink: Vodka (Grey Goose) & Gatorade (Red Punch).

Larry Carter: Utah all the way. I will be drinking the strongest
alcohol I can find so that I will have the pleasure of regurgitating
all over my neighbor’s BY-who banners. Do they have to hang them
everywhere?

Natalie May: Go Utah! It’s going be sa-weeet! I’ll be drinking hot
cocoa with marshmallows … it being a `dry’ stadium and all.

Kylene Stemmons: What game?

Shane Johnson: BYU, just to see their headhunting boosters eat
Crow-ton when he pulls off a Mormon Miracle. I’ll wash down the
bitter irony with an Old Milwaukee 40.

Scott Renshaw: Utah should win in a walk, but I have a certain
sympathy for BYU. Like my alma mater, Stanford, BYU has a coach who
can probably only save his job by pulling off a huge upset of their
BCS-bound arch-rival. I’ll be watching with a cold, carbonated
libation in hand.

Haigen Pearson: I only see RED, and I will be enjoying a few Pabst
Blue Ribbons as the Utes embarrass the `Y’ and all of their poor
fans.

Jennifer Van Grevenhof: The Utes of course. I’ll be drinking Corona
to prepare for the warm, sunny weather at the Fiesta Bowl in Tempe.

Brent Broadwater: The Running Utes by 21. And I will be drinking
Coca-Cola, the nectar of the gods.

Abbey Reynolds: Just thinking about football makes me feel like
drinking. It doesn’t matter what I drink, as long as it makes me
forget how our culture views university sports as more important than
education.

Mike Varanakis: Utah! Water mostly – I will end up being the designated
driver, I’m sure!

Paula Saltas: Utah by 35, and drinking peppermint patties or whatever
Charley Cayias serves at his tailgating party.

Ben Fulton: While the sight of cultural rivalries battling it out on
the sports field is sometimes amusing, it depresses me more with age.
Besides, it pales next to Glasgow’s raging war between the soccer
teams of Rangers and Celtics. If I drank Scotch, I’d drink it now.
Maybe a Bushmill’s.

Josh Wangrud: U of U (for the love!) and it’s BYOB.

Barbara Pavlinch: BY-Who? Utah, of course! I’m not quite sure yet,
but I think I will be drinking Bloody Marys. The tomato juice has
licopenes, and celery is good for me. Yeah, Bloody Marys it will be.
Go Utah!

Jerre Wroble: U of U natch, but I really don’t do football. I may sip
on a coffee and Bailey’s while watching the parking gestapo issue $25
tickets to the hapless fans who park on my `restricted’ street near
the stadium.

Burke Johnstun: Utes! I will be drinking some caffeine-free Coke. I
am one wild S.O.B!