My wife thinks I'm nuts. In fact, she says I am obsessive compulsive. At least when it comes to beer.

I would have to agree.

When it comes to beer, I am downright weird. It all begins at the beer store. I walk the isles for what seems like hours looking for the perfect beer to buy. Since I live in Pennsylvania, and there are no good six-pack shops near me, I have to buy my beer in bulk; The Sam's Club mentality so to speak. I often weigh the outright drinkability of a lighter beer like Yuengling or ABC Wheat against the savory rich ales and stouts of "higher end" beers.

"Beer is beer" she says.

"No its not!", I reply

"Just buy MGD"

"I'm paying so I pick"

And the search continues. God's gift to the unfortunate ones who don't have access to bottle shops are the sampler packs. I finally decide on a Stoudt's Sampler Pack. This pack features Stoudt's Fest, American Pale Ale, Gold, and Scarlet Lady ESB.

I pay and we leave.

When we get home is when the fun starts. I already have 5 styles of beer in my little fridge. And to top it off, for some inane reason, I always have to have two of each kind in my fridge. The logic I use to explain it to myself is that if I enjoy that particular beer, I always have another one cold right away. Having only two limits me to two varieties at a time. That way I mix it up a little.

Try explaining that to my wife. She wonders why I have to have the entire top shelf of our small fridge filled with beer. Right now I have the following (remember, I have two of each) Yuengling Light Lager, Yuengling Premium, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Stoudts Gold, Fest, ESB and APA, ABC Watergap Wheat, ABC Mountain Lager, Samuel Adams Lager, Guinness, and four Erdinger HefeWeize Dunkle.

Sometimes it comes down to a decision of beer or milk. I can tell you then I eat my Boo Berry dry quite often.

Each beer has its own glass. ABC gets drunk in an ABC glass, Stoudts gets a Stoudts glass. If I don't have a logo glass for that beer, it gets drunk in a plain pint, pilsner, or wheat glass; depending on style.

Drinking my beer in front of people who are not familiar with my technique are quite confused. I look, listen, stop, sniff, taste, sniff, taste, look. And when I taste, I swish my beer around in my mouth like mouthwash; My forehead scrunched up in a thoughtful scowl. And then I explain to whoever is in earshot, usually my cat, Nittany, my impressions of the beer.

"Light and crisp with full roasted malt character" I say.

The cat looks embarrassed.

My wife is hiding from me.

But I enjoy what I do, and it makes me happy, which I believe makes me a happier, more fruitful person. And then its okay if I'm a little obsessive compulsive when it comes to my beer.

This entry also at Beer Advocate