"The world is waiting for you."

I don't watch nearly as much television as I did when I was younger, but one of my "guilty pleasures" is The Amazing Race. I don't like the term "reality TV" that everyone seems to like using, by the way. I prefer to think of programming like this as "next-generation game shows." The main differences now are that the game show has escaped the studio and lasts for an entire season with the same cast of contestants.

Normally, the bickering and back-stabbing that happens on a stereotypical "reality TV show" bores me to tears, but somehow, the manufactured drama on TAR doesn't irritate me that much. It's probably because I'm too busy marveling at all the scenery in the territory covered by each episode. I have a passport (it's here somewhere), but it sadly has a lot of blank areas, so I suppose the show helps fill the void -- just a little.

I don't really want to do complete episode recaps. You can get those on other sites, including CBS's, but I thought it might be fun to try blogging some of my observations as each week's episode airs.

(For those that haven't watched the broadcast: Spoilers ahead! Duh!)

Season 13 launched from the L.A. Coliseum. Wow, that stadium looks so old and lonely. Anyway, the first episode is always the toughest with which to keep up because you've just been introduced to the teams, and there's so many of them to track:

Toni and Dallas (single mom and son from California)
Nick and Starr (siblings from Texas and New York)
Ken and Tina (separated married couple from Florida)
Aja and Ty (long-distance daters)
Marisa and Brooke ("Southern Belles" from South Carolina)
Andrew and Dan (frat brothers from Arizona)
Anthony and Stephanie (dating from California)
Anita and Arthur (married beekeepers from Oregon)
Kelly and Christy (divorcee friends from Texas)
Terance and Sarah (dating from New York)
Mark and Bill (friends from California)

Host Phil Keoghan announces 11 legs, with 8 resulting in eliminations for the last team to finish. A million bucks waits for the winner of leg 11. No surprises so far rules-wise.

I've read that the producers try to contain costs during the few episodes, as they are moving a lot of cast and crew around, and it shows already. The teams are brought to Brazil on two flights and two flights only, and after they arrive and perform their first task, their first overnight stay is in tents on a military base.

The next day, Nick and Starr take first place at the pit stop and claim a nice vacation from Travelocity -- I guess they are seeing continuing benefit from being a sponsor of TAR. Anita and Arthur become the season's first casualties by checking in last.

Based on the very little we've seen of them, today I'll pick Nick and Starr, Aja and Ty, and Kelly and Christy as the teams most likely to be there in the finale. We'll see if I'm right, or if I feel forced to pick another three next week.

Just some Wednesday musings

• If you live and work in the Houston area, odds are now heavily in your favor that you have power again. If you don't -- and assuming that your property hasn't simply been wrecked -- then I'd say that fortune owes you one for your inconvenience.
• Commuting is still a big mess with numerous traffic lights still inoperable all over the place.
  
• Texans can breathe easier knowing that our hurricane season is practically over.
  
• I've discovered that a prepaid Subway card is a helpful tool for avoiding greasier lunch spots.
• I saw the season premiere of Heroes on one of the local cinema screens, which was a fun way to experience television. It's a smart business move on the part of the theater as well. How else do you pack the house on a Monday night?
• Annoyingly stupid car commercial #1: Cadillac brags that they now offer a hybrid-power Escalade because they "they should." There's two lines of reasoning for buying a hybrid -- saving gas money or saving the environment. It's going to be a challenge to save much gas money if you're still only eking out 12 miles per gallon even with hybrid technology. And as for environmentalism . . . well, you're only eking out 12 miles per gallon. Exactly how stupid does GM think we are??
  
• Annoyingly stupid car commercial #2: Lincoln is touting that most of their offerings only need regular octane gasoline to operate. People who are in the market for a luxury car are highly unlikely to be bothered by a five percent difference in their fuel bill.
  

In the wake of Ike, a refreshing visit to small-town Texas

"Want to take a roadie?" I was asked yesterday at work.

With those words, I got a chance to leave my cubicle and see yet a little more of what the hurricane left behind. After taking the keys to a company van loaded with bottled water and ice, I set out towards one of my employer's nursing homes out in the woods of east Texas.

While listening to radio talk show hosts bemoaning the Astros' stumble at the brink of catching the other playoff contenders, I surveyed more scenes of destruction and recovery. Ditches cradled overturned trailer homes. Convoys of power company trucks cruised to their next destination. A tree branch sprouted through the windshield of an otherwise sharp-looking Chevy 2500HD pickup truck. Billboards and road signs were ripped apart. In fact, I could swear that I didn't see a single speed limit sign standing on a certain eighty-mile stretch of interstate highway. Convenient, eh?

A bit more than two hours later, I rolled the van into the nursing home driveway. Last weekend, employees and patient family members alike had sheltered for the night on the building floor as Hurricane Ike sailed through town. The facility lost power in the early morning hours and only regained it a few days ago. I find it slightly ironic now that a van full of even more H-two-O would be welcome after a hurricane, but it was. Just as back in Houston, many of the employees here were still waiting for electric current to flow in their homes again.

After unloading the ice and water, I attended to the other task for which I was sent. I installed a router that would temporarily connect the facility to the Internet via the Verizon Wireless network until the local ISP gets the flow of bits and bytes going again. Then I turned for home.

As I was heading out of town, I was craving something to drink. (In hindsight, I should have kept one of the water bottles for myself!) I attempted to stop at the local McDonald's and Sonic Drive-In, but both were already closed for the evening, despite appearing to have power.

When fast-food restaurants on the "main drag" of a town aren't open for business at 6 p.m. on a Friday, I'd say things aren't quite back to normal.

King Corn

I just watched the documentary King Corn, broadcast as part of PBS's series Independent Lens. One part that particularly caught my attention was the filmmakers' interview with Earl Butz, agriculture secretary under Nixon and Ford. Butz, who died earlier this year, described how he totally flipped the objective of American agriculture policy, stopping payments to farmers not to plant, and instead subsidizing farmers to grow corn -- much more corn than the market needed. It's only government subsidies that allow farmers now to turn a profit.

Americans definitely enjoy a bountiful harvest, but at what cost? Is the money we save by enjoying cheap burgers, sodas and various items fried in corn oil actually a loan that gets repaid later in the form of medical and lifestyle costs of obesity, such as Type 2 diabetes?

The documentary is just a few shades more credible than Super Size Me, but it raises a good point: What are we really choosing to put in our bodies? This past weekend I've been consuming a lot of the processed junk I stockpiled (Hostess cupcakes do have an impressive shelf life for a baked good) and I think I can actually feel myself turning into junk again. It especially didn't help that I caught myself watching this documentary while drinking HFCS-sweetened soda and Doritos chips.

Ugh.

That is a banana in my pocket, and I'm just glad to see it.

• I returned to the office for the first time since my "Ike-ation" began on Thursday afternoon. Yeah, there was quite a bit of catch-up work waiting. Commuting is going to be tricky with numerous traffic signals still down.
  
• Perishables have returned to the grocery store! Bananas, papayas, and a carton of soy milk are now in the kitchen. After meeting my fruit cravings with raisins and dried pineapple for the past several days, it's going to be so nice to bring back the fresh stuff. Loren Steffy of the Chronicle pays tribute to the grocers as "first responders" in this disaster. I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far, but they are certainly appreciated!
  
• For the first time since Friday, the local TV stations have returned to regular prime time programming. Now it's just a matter of time before topics of conversation gravitate back to economic worries, the presidential election, and how the Astros have stumbled since Hurricane Ike denied their home series with the Cubs.
  

Spinning up to a new normal

The following observations only apply to my immediate neighborhood here in Fort Bend County. Remember what I said in previous posts about being among the lucky. Much of the Houston area is still without power after suffering much more damage from Hurricane Ike, and other locations are certainly worthy of disaster relief assistance.

• A cool front has come through the area and the morning low was 71F. That ought to make things a little more bearable for those still without air-conditioning.
• My employer's building in Houston sustained roof damage, and so I'm home while it's being repaired. The data center remained intact, and I'm doing what I can through VPN.
  
• Grocery stores in the immediate area have re-opened their doors, but they're short on fresh meat and produce. The freezer cases are barren. Other items are being sold on a "quantities limited" basis.
• There are long lines at gas stations. I wouldn't be surprised if many of these customers are ones that have come out of the un-electrified areas in search of a working and stocked gas station.
  
• Traffic lights around the neighborhood are functioning again.
  
• Restaurants are re-opening. Yesterday we confirmed that the local Popeye's, Papa John's, and Vietnamese noodle house were back. Hooray!

I've gotten some comments about keeping my sense of humor during this experience. All I can say is that it's easy to remain buoyant when it's apparent that everyone you care about is accounted for and safe. All the damage around me has been inflicted on mere property. We can fix or replace all of it. The "tinkerer/builder" side of my personality even feels that we've been almost given a "clean slate" in some areas to make them better than before.

Living through these ordeals together reaffirms our strengths and bonds us together in ways that the carefree times cannot. May God grant me the chance to welcome the new normal as a stronger person, part of a stronger community.

Ike was a messy boy

At 6 a.m. thunderstorms rolled in and took down our electricity again. After what amounted to a day of "house arrest" I could feel the irritability rise within. So I worked it out the best way I knew how: I ran. When the rain subsided to a mere drizzle, I grabbed my Nikon Coolpix S550 and headed out the door to document what the hurricane left behind.

In about two-and-a-half hours, I had completed a 10-mile loop around home. People seemed to be in reasonably good spirits and I could hear the hard-working buzz of generators up and down the streets. When I returned, I was happy to see the power had returned, making it easy for me to share these pictures with you.

None of the surrounding traffic lights are working:


The field-goal kicker on the high school football team had a tendency to hook, anyway:


Numerous small trees and branches were snapped by the storm:


This might be a problem in the future. (Fortunately, I saw no cases of trees actually entering homes.):


Wrecked fences abound:


This storm sewer was clogged. Scratch and sniff your computer screen for the full effect.


Some two-story homes incurred roof damage:


Ike was originally from overseas, so I guess he couldn't read English:


This tree needs to be moved before vehicles can access the elementary school parking lot:


Parents will have less to worry about now when their kids climb this tree:


The nearest convenience store is still closed. I saw people inside the taqueria, but it's not open yet. The nearby grocery store is open, and sherriff's deputies are keeping order over the long lines of people waiting for basic necessities like bread and ice.

What a mess.

Ike Day: 6:15 p.m.

The curfew for Fort Bend County as a whole has been lifted, but the cities of Stafford and Sugar Land proper are still mostly without power and a dusk-to-dawn curfew will be in effect. We must be on a special part of the power grid because neighborhoods less than a mile away are still dark. The nearby shopping center (and its grocery store) is still closed and appears to be without power at this time. Slow Runner, my jar of Nutella is indeed empty. I'll be sure to pick up another when things get back to normal!

Only now that I'm catching up on the news, am I really seeing how the rest of the region fared.

This will be the last of the every-few-hours updates. With the "exciting" part of this story done, I think it will be safe to say to readers that things really will be OK. It's clear that my corner of the Houston region has fared much better than many, many others. Now we enter the much more "un-exciting" part -- cleaning up and putting things back together, including the routine of life.

Ike Day: 2:30 p.m.

I thought it might be funny to share this image of an error I was getting while using the VPN software on the office laptop. Fortunately, I got this problem to clear with a reboot.

Meanwhile, this feels like a great time to take a nap. The power seems to have stabilized here. The great news for those still without power -- and thus, no air-conditioning -- is that Monday's forecast calls for a cool front to come in.

When I get back up, I'll try to make a wider survey of the neighborhood. Outside the sky remains overcast, but the winds appear to have calmed, and only a light drizzle is falling.

Ike Day: 12:30 p.m.

WE HAVE POWER!

It's not totally stable, but it has been mostly on for the last 45 minutes. Based on the news reports we've been getting, we can consider ourselves fortunate.

We finally figured out that the voice channels on the wireless networks must be jammed (wonder why? haha), but we can still get text messages going. The Verizon Wireless aircard is also pulling a connection.

Ike Day: 11:30 a.m.

We ventured outside for the first time to let the dog take care of business and to check on the neighbors. Everyone we talked to seems to be OK. We have AT&T and T-Mobile cell phones that are unable to lock onto the network. In a moment, I'll turn on the office laptop and see if I can still connect using the Verizon Wireless aircard. (Unfortunately, the battery life on that ThinkPad isn't very good.) Landlines are still OK, so we can still make and receive calls through those numbers. DSL, of course, only works while I'm drawing juice from the backup battery. (Thank you APC!)

We still have water pressure and natural gas, so we can cook. Hurray!

The curfew in Fort Bend County has been extended to 2 p.m. I still see folks driving the streets. After 2:00 I might hop on my bike and do a more extended survey of the neighborhood. On this street, there are numerous small branches down and some wood fences blown down. The pavement is covered in "street salad." Rain is still falling. Gusts are strong enough to invert umbrellas.

Ike Day: 8:30 a.m.

The storm has definitely receded and the winds are now merely gusty. Now it's just like any heavy rainmaker. We thankfully have the benefit of daylight now, and I don't see any trees down. Lots of fruit, small branches, and green leaves are scattered everywhere, as if a messy mob was in a big hurry to mix up a summer salad.

There's no power still, of course. The DSL line is still active, but that's only good as long as the modem draws juice from the UPS, and there's a charge in the laptop batteries. We're getting phone calls from people checking on us. We're A-OK.

I shudder at what authorities might find when they go out and survey Bolivar Peninsula and Galveston Island this morning.

Ike Strikes: 5:15 a.m.

It's here. It's awesome. It's kind of scary.

The silhouettes of the treetops are as frenzied as fans at any playoff game you can imagine. Winds can be heard swirling from everywhere, massaging the walls. Everything and everyone inside is safe, though.

I am entering this via the Verizon Wireless network. Electricity was lost here around 11:00 PM as I was trying to get some sleep, and I could hear the rain start shortly thereafter as I drifted off. Landline still has dialtone. I'm going to try to tune into the radio to get some updates now.

Across the street, one light alone is lit, as if in defiance to the maelstrom. I guess the neighbors have the generator humming.

Ike Eve: 10:30 p.m.

I'm taking a break from blogging to get some sleep. There's not anything else I can really do if I stay up than worry. Let's hope that I'm still connected when I wake up. As of right now, there is still only wind gusts here and no rain yet. The nasty stuff is supposed to be rolling through between midnight and noon.

On another note, Jon Walk advises that the trails at Memorial Park are now closed. Well, there goes my plans for running during a hurricane!

To everyone following these posts, I appreciate your concern!

Ike Eve: 9:30 p.m.

Power and DSL are still on here and dinner was cooked normally. It seems like such a trivial thing for which to be thankful, but I am.

Ike Eve: 8 p.m.

• It's now dark and the curfew is in effect.
• Wind gusts remain the same.
• No rainfall seen yet.
• Heather Saucier is being interviewed on TV in her capacity as a spokesperson for Harris County Flood Control. It still feels weird to see people I went to school with in positions of important responsibility. I feel that says more about me than her, by the way.
• It just occurred to me that they're going to need a lot of volunteers to help in the aftermath of this storm.
  

Ike Eve: 7 p.m.

Curfew in effect for Fort Bend County from 8 p.m. to 10 a.m. I can deal with that.

Ike Eve: 6:45 p.m.

• We've just experienced our first momentary loss of power. I'm back online for now.
• Wind gusts are now in gale force territory here.
  

Ike Eve: 6 p.m.

• I might have been too hasty in praising the smoothness of the evacuation of low-lying areas. ABC13 passed along an estimate that says that 40% of Galveston residents are still on the island. That situation could get ugly.
• We're anticipating hurricane force winds here in Fort Bend County. I'm treating it as a tornado situation and will set up supplies in an interior bathroom just in case.
• My eating has been pretty good lately. The possible need to depend on non-perishible items has opened the door to junk foods I typically I don't indulge in.
  
• Wind gusts are picking up.
  

Ike Eve: 3 p.m.

• The television images of rising water topping the Galveston seawall -- which rises 15 feet above the (now submerged) beach -- are eye-opening.
• Here in Fort Bend County, it's still breezy and the sky is now completely overcast. A faint drizzle has started.

Ike Eve: noon

My run this morning featured a clear sky and a light breeze. Now there is a definite wind from the north and the sky is clouding over.

In hindsight, I think going through the hysteria during the near-miss by Hurricane Rita in 2005 was a blessing. We've got The Real Thing now and people are significantly more organized. Just about everyone in the threatened zones has been able to evacuate in an orderly fashion. Folks outside those areas will be calmly sheltering in place until it passes.

The projected landfall is still set for tonight at Galveston. While I was out running this morning, I remembered how this community rallied itself to recover after Tropical Storm Allison in 2001 and how it showed great heart in assisting those pummeled by Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Well, after this storm comes through, I suppose we'll find out who will reach out to southeast Texas.

Ike Eve: 9 a.m.

During the course of this weekend, I'll try to keep blogging what I see here in Fort Bend County as long as I have a connection....

• I got a decent 7-mile run in this morning, plus completed Week 1 Day 1 of the Hundred Pushup Challenge as per the ongoing thread on the Runner's World forums.
• Those fake storm shutters that flank the sides of the windows of some custom homes in the area look really silly now.
• I feel very fortunate to have found a rare gas station that had fuel and short lines yesterday. The heart of the Energy Corridor was deserted by 6 p.m. It must be nice to work for the oil companies that will happily send you home at the drop of a hat.
• Not a drop of rain has fallen, but the roughening seas have already knocked away the popular fishing pier at Galveston's 61st Street.
  

A time and place where the lines will be short, very short

Before I head to bed on the night before "Ike Eve" I thought I'd share this advertising chuckle:

Dear Academy: It's great that you're concerned about our hurricane preparedness and will now be open at 8 a.m. on Saturday. Just don't take it personally if no one shows up....

A Spike in Ike Preparations

I refrained from putting stock in any predictions until 48 hours pre-landfall. But here we are, and the latest projected track from the National Hurricane Center has the "dirty side" of the storm pushing a surge right up Galveston Bay. Bummer.

• It's like "Black Friday" out there. But unlike the day after Thanksgiving, people aren't mobbing the mall stores, Wal-Mart, Target, and Best Buy. They're cramming into Kroger, HEB, Fiesta . . . and anywhere that sells gasoline.
  
• After a four-month hiatus from posting, Jon Walk at RunHouston passes along the word that Finish Line Sports will be closed this weekend. Well, there goes my plans for trying on triathlon swimwear during the hurricane!
• The weather applet on the right side of my blog layout should be fun to look at on Saturday morning!
  
• At a minimum, tomorrow's Astros game versus the Cubs has been cancelled. It has taken a hurricane to interrupt the hot streak that Team Procrastination is on. One of the inexplicable mysteries in life is how a team can drift along listless for the first half of the season, then "flip the switch," year after year. If the baseball season only consisted of August and September, there wouldn't be room on the left-field wall at Minute Maid Park for all the division banners....
  

Officially on Ike Watch

For the last two days, I've been closely following Eric Berger's science blog concerning the emerging drama that is Hurricane Ike. The main idea he's been trying to push across is that even a mere three days in advance, we still have a wide stretch of Texas coastline "in play" for landfall. As cautionary examples, he cites the three-day track forecasts from the National Hurricane Center for Katrina and Rita in 2005. Neither one pointed to the storms' ultimate destinations in Louisiana. So the Palacios landfall projection of the NHC won't be lulling me into complacency.

So just like last month in advance of Edouard, tonight I'll be topping off my gas tank and stocking up on non-perishables. It's a grand game we play here on the Gulf Coast.

An indulgence of Hershey...

...Terry Hershey Park, to be exact.

I went to bed last night thinking I'd run in the morning. Well, I woke up today and the last thing my body wanted to do was lace 'em up and head out. So I made myself pack a bag of running gear before heading to work.

I am darn glad I ditched the morning run-around-home idea now. Despite the afternoon temps still hitting the nineties Fahrenheit, I had a really pleasant five-miler along the banks of Buffalo Bayou. The bayou and the accompanying trails really do form an ribbon-like oasis in west Houston. There are some points where I do forget that I'm still in the midst of urban sprawl. The trees lend embracing shadows to buffer runners and cyclists from the scorching stare of Sol.

We must return sometime.

Turn it up to 11!

I definitely wanted to log a long run this morning. Originally I was thinking that 8 miles was a reasonable distance for this point in my running life. But an absolutely rejuvenating atmosphere of 70F was waiting for me outside, and I was coming off of a rest day.

I didn't even have discernible sweat on the outside of my shirt until mile 4. Dropping heat and humidity is like lifting a straitjacket from my running. So I decided to stretch my goal. I chugged into Sonic Jog-In after 11 miles in two hours and one minute. This was my longest run since the Flying Pig Half Marathon in May, and I toasted the occasion by washing down a bistro breakfast sandwich with an apple juice slush.

I tried a new-to-me product today. In my handheld bottle I mixed water with an envelope of Clif Shot Electrolyte Replacement Drink that I got as a sample from a race. I think it might be OK, but I'm not too crazy about the apple flavor I tried.

Well, the bottom line is that the distance is coming back. We're now ten weeks out from Rock 'N' Roll San Antonio.

Fired Up 5K

For my next trick, I will attempt to type out a report on this year's 5K benefiting the Muscular Dystrophy Association while one hand is occupied with a SuperSonic breakfast burrito.

This is one of the events I did during my first summer of road races, and I've come back ever since:

2005 Fired Up 5K: 35:22
2006 Fired Up 5K: 31:59
2007 Fired Up 5K: 28:53
2008 Fired Up 5K: 28:29

Today's run started out great and I had clocked an even four minutes upon reaching the marker the organizers thoughtfully planted at the half-mile mark, so I thought I had the pace under control. But just like last month in Seabrook, the humidity was high and I could sense that my body was struggling to cool itself, so I had to throttle down to a pace around 10:00/mile. I will try not to obsess over what went wrong, however, and just be happy I broke last year's time.

After running through the fire station and crossing the finish line, I took a cooldown jog over to my car. In the parking lot I came upon a woman who was standing at her car door, peering inside anxiously. "Are you locked out?" I asked. She wasn't just locked out; she had been robbed. She had gotten in the practice of hiding her car keys on the outside of her vehicle. I guess someone saw her do that before the race today and had an opportunity too good to resist.

Bad things happen to runners every day, but this is the first time I had seen such a thing happen at a race event. So, take heed, adherents to the hide-a-key practice: You never know when you might be unwittingly playing a game of hide-and-SEE with the bad guys.

After letting Ms. Hide-A-Key borrow my phone to call a friend to come help. I returned to the fire station to meet Runner's World forumite Lisa D. The man at the Finish Line Sports booth was nice enough to take a sweaty post-race picture of the two of us. Lisa's a sweetie and can definitely rock a Nike skirt. As we sat through the awards ceremony, Lisa noted that it was uncharacteristically breezy for a morning this time of year. For those to the east of us being lashed by Hurricane Gustav, know that our thoughts are with you today.

On a final, gadget-oriented note. This Labor Day weekend, I treated myself to a new ForeRunner 205 after the most recent price cut. My old 101 has served me well over the years and I've loved it to pieces -- literally, I'm afraid to say.

I like that the 205 is much easier to recharge, and the wrap-around shape of the receiver does look sleeker. But the size and placement of the buttons makes it too easy to press the wrong one on the run. At least I don't have to worry about whether the Scotch tape is holding anymore! And the rubberized wristband makes absorbed odors a thing of the past.

Of more genuine concern is that the 205 logged today's certified 5K course as 3.02 miles. I'm hoping that maybe it just needs a software update. (Or I will realize later that I need a programming upgrade to work properly!) Otherwise, I guess the trees lining the boulevards were too much for this device to overcome.

Well, I cheated. I took down the rest of the burrito before the third paragraph was done, so I guess this report wasn't such a trick after all.....

Have a great Labor Day, everyone!

Beer Hunter: end-of-August update

Continuing my quest to take down 30 beers at Alamo Drafthouse, here's the updated tally:

AUGUST

• pints of Dos XX and Ziegenbock during Pineapple Express (Is there humor to be mined from violent drug culture? The answer is a resounding yes, in a "better them than me" sort of way.)
• pints of Paulaner Hefeweizen and Bud Light during Tropic Thunder (Downright hilarious -- just remember to check your Political Correctness at the door.)
• pints of Stone Arrogant Bastard and Fat Tire during Death Race (Bad people. Cars. Boom. The End.)
• pints of North Coast Scrimshaw Pils and Full Sail Pale Ale during Hamlet 2. (Something's being satirized here, but I'm not exactly sure what it was.)
• pints of Saint Arnolds Amber and Woodchuck Amber Cider during The Killing (Retrospective screening of the 1956 heist movie directed by Stanley Kubrick.)
• pints of Guiness and Shiner Bock during The Rocker (OK if you're in the mood for predictible feel-good fare. OK to wait for this one as a rental.)
  

JULY

• a pint of Sam Adams Boston Lager during Hancock (It's better than the trailers suggest. Definitely another good look at the whole "superhero" thing)
  
• pints of Harp and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale during Step Brothers (Will Farrell's antics do get funnier after a couple of drinks, but there's certainly nothing wrong with waiting for this one as a cheap DVD rental.)
  
• bottle of Blue Moon during The Dark Knight (Excellent flick all around!)

Sixteen down . . . Fourteen to go!