Gheorghe vs. The Price of Oil

Everyone's talking about it, so this is nothing revelatory. But Gheorghe needs to address the problem and see what can be done.

Prices of this all-important liquid -- the nectar, the very lifeblood of American society, it seems -- continue to rise, thanks to global shortages of raw materials and the relationship of American big business with those parties in possession of this precious commodity. Somewhere in the mix, the independent businessperson and the American consumer get squeezed, and we're all starting to feel the pinch. You go to fuel up and glance at the price with a wince. You think about consuming less, then realize it's futile. We're all paying more during this worldwide crisis.

What am I talking about? Oil, of course. Well, what Dennis Boyd and his Mississippi ilk call "oil." Beer, dummy.

Quite obviously, the crisis at hand is the global hops shortage. In case you've been living under a rock and are blissfully unaware, a "perfect storm" led to a surplus of hops, prices dropping, and production being cut -- all just before a stretch of bad weather in Europe severely handicapped last year's hop acreage. So we've got a dire dearth of hops available for craft brewers, thanks to long-standing contract arrangements by the Big 3 (A-B, Miller, Coors) to get hops at cut-rates into the future. And that price bump gets passed along to you, the consumer.

On the upside, Bud, Miller, and Coors don't require an excess of hops for their "American light" style of swill. So you Silver Bullet homos connoisseurs are safe to keep sipping your suds at standard market price. But the hops situation is so bad (a 1994-5 Washington Bullets level of bad hops situation), the microbrewers are getting walloped, and inevitably, the price of consuming vast quantities of good beer has risen well beyond strained spousal relationships and the 36 waistline going the way of grunge music and the run & shoot offense. Dale's Pale Ale is $8.99 a six-pack in the local grocery store here in SEVA. I still contend that "I'm worth it" as I hoist a few sixers on the conveyor, but that's getting to be an even more difficult sell to those around me with every few cents the price goes up.

Here's what you can do:

Drink Globally, Think Locally. (Not as funny a bastardization as the Gogol Bordello song, but it works.) Start drinking the products of your local area. For Virginians, this includes Legend, St. George, and now Starr Hill breweries; microbreweries aren't just for the ski towns, hydroponic pot places, and jam band hubs any more, so most states have several. (Mississippi, as with just about everything else, I presume you may be screwed in this area.)

How does this help the hops shortage? It doesn't, directly, but supporting your local brewmeisters, just like your local farmers and vendors, will pay dividends for you the consumer in the end. Helping provide them relief from the hop-drought of '08 will be returned in spades, if not lower beer prices.

Invest in the hops market. Talk to your broker about putting your money in the hops industry. Then, when he stops laughing, have him buy you a $9 pint at Rock Bottom.

Stop drinking Coors Light. It's time to stick it to the man and tell those Holocaust Deniers in Golden, Colorado (a) that their cornering of the hops market doesn't sit well with you, and (b) that you're a good beer drinker with a discerning palate who expects more. Unless you're a 22-year-old blonde girl whose first name ends in "i" or especially "ee"; in that case, press on, dear girl. (Kudos to Coors on using Sam Elliott's voice-over on the commercials, though. Well played.)

Drink loads more pale ale and hop-heavy beers. Show the world that jump-starting production is worth paying more. Drink 12 at a time like it was your job. And do so near me, so by God, I won't have to be the drunkest lout at the party. Cripes, it's getting so that people don't get wasted at baby showers and kids' soccer games any more.

May you and yours see your way through these tough times safely.