FREE! - GRAB ONE! - FREE! - GRAB ONE!

Jay KernerPublisher/ Econ Dropout

In street vernacular, what it really comes down to is, “ya gosta pay if ya wansta play.”

Because everything costs. Everything.Crummy stuff costs more than what you pay

for it.Better stuff costs more. Sometimes a lot

more.Sometimes free stuff isn’t really free.So assuming that you’re a reasonably healthy specimen, you’re either

going to work to pay for the stuff you want, or you’re going to steal it (legally or illegally).

From there it’s all a question of what standard of living you’re will-ing to accept.

People can and do survive on almost nothing every day. They’re not living well at all by most folks’ standards, but they’re living to the stan-dards they accept for themselves.

But the same thing happens at every socio-economic level.People are working to pay for their “Rock and Roll Lifestyles”

whether that means a new McMansion or a van down by the river.If you’re working and you like what you do, and you combine that

with an income that lets you meet your own acceptable standard of living, heck… you’re golden.

Unfortunately, most people aren’t that lucky.Mick and Keith couldn’t get no satisfaction and that pretty much

goes for the rest of us, too. We’re conditioned to want more and the ad-vertising/marketing/entertainment/media are all slanted to reinforce those notions.

So you keep your crappy job to maintain a life style below your ac-ceptable level, and you’re pissed off all the time.

Or you up your game to shoot for something better.Now better can mean more fulfilling work or better compensated

work and ideally both, but it’s never a good idea to sacrifice the former for the latter.

Now let’s apply that concept at the community level.

We’ll have a number of financial decisions to make over the next 20 years. (Like every 20 years.) What if we drastically switch from our mindset of spending less and getting less, to one of spending more and getting more?

Crazy talk for our tight-fisted region, but hear me out.

What if everything we do, we do it awesome? Really awesome. So awesome that we’d flock to it and be proud of it. So awesome that people would come here to see our awesomeness.

And each awesome thing we do contributes to the awesome movement and spurs more of the same.

At one time, this area was known for awe-some! I believe we can be again.

Easy for me to toss out, clearly, but where’s

the coin for all this awesome you ask?Our grandchildren will pay for it, and I want to let them! In the immortal words of Popeye’s pal Wimpy, “We will gladly pay

them Tuesday for a hamburger, today!”We brag and brag about our low cost of living here. Then we gripe

and complain about the life we’re getting for our money.So let’s change it.How about the next municipal project to come up, we go over the top

with it? I’m talking outrageously awesome.Then do the same on the next one and the one after that. It will cost

more money but so what? Future generations will pay the bills and gladly, for the opportunity to live near all the awesome. The increase in property values more than compensates for the investment in the awesome.

What kind of hometown do you want to leave future generations? A cheap place to live because everything’s crummy, or a place where it’s a little pricey but worth it because it’s so AWESOME!?

The further out you get from the awesome will become crummier as you go, we reckon, because for some folks crummy will always be good enough. But we think most folks want better than crummy. Maybe some will be inspired to fix up some of their own crummy. Maybe others will feel peer-pressured to.

It would probably be a rude adjustment, but I think folks around here could get used to awesome things.

Not all at once, mind you. We’d have to build up a tolerance first.Maybe this movement is already happening but we just didn’t know

that’s what it was?We can choose to do awesome here! Awesome schools. Awesome parks. Awesome streets.Awesome opportunities for awesome lifestyles.A higher cost of living for sure, but a greatly enhanced quality of liv-

ing.As always, we will have exactly the awesome communities we will

pay for. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The Cost of Living

Contact The Regular Joe816-617-5850

email@theregularjoepaper.com

P.O. Box 1304 St. Joseph, Mo. 64502

Read us onlinewww.theregularjoepaper.com

Jay Kerner

This is truly a good time to be alive.Today, citizens of the northland can visit

The Big Rip Brewery and enjoy an artisanal craft beer, brewed in tiny batches from the finest ingredients, to exacting standards, not 20 feet from where you’re sitting. Past genera-tions didn’t always have it so good.

A century ago, beer drinkers in any urban area in the country would partake of a product in their neighborhood tav-ern that was brewed less than a mile away. Beer like many other consum-ables of the day was among the most local of enterprises.

A product with a short shelf life, it had to be brewed close to the point of consumption. So, thousands of small breweries dotted the landscape, each serving a handful of drinking establishments nearest them, with bar-rels of fresh local beer, delivered by horse drawn wagons.

Then, particularly after prohibition, the industrial revolution kicked in and spawned the big brewer barons, who flooded the market with their cheap, watered-down, mass produced suds. Miller in Milwaukee. Coors in Colorado. Bud in St. Lou.

The little guys all got squeezed out till finally only big guys were left.It was a sad time for beer in this country.America’s beer palate was so watered down that we drank it and liked

it. We didn’t know any better.Until we finally rose up.Imports started grabbing an increasing slice of the market in the early

80’s, followed by the first brew-pubs. Some of them did well and survive to this day. Many more of them flamed out when the initial surge of popu-larity crested.

But the Big Rip is a different animal. It’s what’s called a “Nano-Brew-ery”. Essentially it’s a tiny beer factory with a tiny bar attached to serve their product.

It opened two years ago at 216 E. 9th, in North KC, but it’s a little off the beaten path. If you go east on E. 10th from Burlington for a couple blocks, then cut south to E. 9th, you’ll find it.

It isn’t fancy. It’s industrial in both setting and ambiance. You can belly up to the bar for any of their 10 different beers on tap.

There are one or two of all the popular styles from blonds and IPA’s to stouts. They are also happy to fill both 32oz. and 64oz. growlers.

I met with Josh Collins, one of the owners at Big Rip, who gave me the nickel tour, although you can pretty much see everything through the big viewing window into the brewing room.

He told me how he and his business partner, Kipp Feldt, progressed from home-brewers to nano-brewers.

Their initial setup was a 2 barrel system, but the popularity of the product required an upgrade to their current 4 barrel system after the first year.

They now rotate through a list of 30 different recipes including a few they always keep on hand, as well as several seasonal and specialty brews.

They were just finishing up a new event space which will be available for private parties. They also aren’t afraid to take things outdoors, where their tasting events have become so popular that getting your tickets in

advance has become your best bet to attend.I don’t consider myself to be the biggest beer snob, but I know what

I like when I taste it. I had a sample of two different IPA’s and a pale ale. All were fresh tasting and rich with complex flavors. I then had a pint of my favorite, but I’m not telling you which it was.

When you visit the Big Rip Brewery I’d encourage you to try a few samples yourself and see what wets your individual whistle. And when you do, please be sure to tell them The Regular Joe sent you! You can check them out online at www.bigripbrewing.com.

Tip a Few at Big Rip Brewery

Danny R. PhillipsRegular Joe Music Guy

Murder by Death’s “Bitter Moon, Bitter Drink” comes on like the sound of a Gothic Western; depressing, beautiful and epic. The music surrounds the throaty growl of lead man Adam Turla like a vise. The moving, emotive, expansive and challenging music driven by electric cello, mostly acoustic guitar and banjo is what one only would assume Richard Brautigan’s “A Hawkline Monster” would sound like if it were set to music.

“Bitter Moon” is the next in a line of Murder by Death records that seem to give soundtrack to the decline of everything and it seems that the decline is a thing of beauty. “Lost River” has an ominous presence that crawls up your spine and denies you the ability to stop listening. “Ram-blin’” is the rush of a mighty wind crashing

against a brick wall, pushed by Sarah Balliet’s cello. A true force.

“Staring at the Sun” is rock and roll if Jim-mie Rodgers had invented rock instead of yodel-ing. It both smacks you in the face and lulls you to a false sense of security. Adam Turla’s voice

is equal parts hope and desperation, a combina-tion of Tom Waits and Nick Cave. It has feeling, grit and wisdom beyond its years as if Johnny Cash had a little brother that was way, way more pissed off then he ever was or could’ve been.

Every track on the record is a gem, es-pecially for those out there that love mostly acoustic driven music paired with dark, powerful changes and lyrics as good as anyone around. The standout track is “The Curse of Elkhart.” It’s Death and Destruction making its final march toward mankind while a fellow sits back with a smile and watches it all hit the fan.

Murder by Death, Adam Turla in particular, is a truly honest and creative voice in music dur-ing a time when acts are cranked out, mass-pro-duced and shoved down our throats like so many Corollas. Finally, a band that pulls no punches and man, do those punches hurt.

Without a shadow of a doubt, Poe, Oscar Wilde and Sam Peckinpaw would be proud.

Murder by Death’s Bitter Moon, Bitter Drink

ASE Certified

Jimmy “Hambone” Hamilton

I learned to type in high school. They call it keyboarding now, though I won’t be surprised when they

change to the current standard, thumb-typing for smart phones.Back in the day, we learned on actual manual and electric typewriters. A roomful, all going at once is a unique sound in the universe, maybe

never to be heard again, but folks of a certain age remember. A cacophony of clickety clacks. The bells and the carriage returns kershwonks.

I personally, became a moderately competent typist. I say moderate-ly, because while my speed was a little above middling level, my accuracy was a little below.

Corrections were a pain back in the day. Getting everything lined up perfect to use little strips of correction tape. Or else using White-Out cor-rection fluid to cover your screw-up with a lumpy crust of paint.

I had ideas about being a writer back then, but I’d be going along, typing at roughly the same rate I think, but then stumble on the typos. I’ve heard that you’re supposed to just power on through and correct later, but my brain doesn’t work that way. Totally broke my train of thought.

Typing also didn’t facilitate my need to rewrite on the fly. I was forced to work longhand on legal pads and spiral notebooks,

but my writing was filled with lined-through sections, eraser smudges and arrows rearranging blocks of text. They looked like the ramblings of a madman and perhaps they were.

Then came computers. Or more specifically, word processing soft-ware.

That changed everything.I started by writing business proposals, (back when my business

wasn’t so monkey-centric!) Suddenly, my errors were highlighted for my convenience. Spelling, punctuation, whatever. But they didn’t just show me what was wrong, my new friend also showed me an assortment of correct alternatives I could choose with the click of a button. A lot of the time it changed it for me with autocorrect.

If you’ve read anything I’ve printed over the last 8 years of this paper, there’s a good chance every sentence was changed at least a little from the origi-nal version.

It’s my process.I write a little. I read a little and change it a

little. Sometimes I start completely over.Sometimes I start with an idea and the piece sort

of writes itself, if I’m smart enough to get out of the way.

Sometimes I know it’s in there but it fights me coming out, like a breech baby in the birth canal. Nothing you can do but brew some coffee (and also boil water for some reason.)

No matter how the idea germinates, it travels from my evil brain, through my fingertips to the screen, where I can twist, turn and manipulate the copy till I’m happy with it, or at least till I eventually give up and hit save.

The word processor allows me to do all this. It’s a program that rec-ognizes how my brain works and does it’s best to help me.

You would think with an all-knowing tool like this, there wouldn’t still be errors in printed material. Ha!

First, you should know that sometimes we’re wrong on purpose. We’re like that. Sometimes the wrong word is just funner. (Like that!) (The proper usage of course, is “more funner”.)

It’s also a real thing that this computer assistance makes us all a bit blind to what should be obvious errors. No excuses for our past or future faux-pas, but at least we’re in good company, as you know if you read most any publication.

You may have caught the recent headline about a baseball pitcher, touting him as “Amphibious” instead of “Ambidextrous”, though either is a good story.

At least the computer told everyone involved that it was spelled cor-rectly.

Thinking about it now, it occurs to me how different life would be if I could re-write everything on the fly.

I could fill a book with stupid things I’ve said in social situations. I’m the worst!

The less I know you, the more I’m likely to prattle something instant-ly regrettable.

My history is filled with inappropriate attempts at humor. Lame pick-up lines. Questions about impending birth to the non-pregnant. Que-ries about the location of better halves to the newly divorced. That kind of thing.

Oh, to have the same ability with my tongue that I have with my key-board. DELETE! DELETE! DELETE!

Rewriting on the Fly

Live Music Hi-Lites across the NorthlandBrew Top Pub North8614 N. BoardwalkFri 7/10 WonderfuzzSat 7/11 Stolen WinnebegosFri 7/17 Cherry BombSat 7/18 TransientsFri 7/24 RetroactiveSat 7/25 SwitchFri 7/31 Noe Palma

Mosaic Life Care’sForks ‘n’ Tunes SeriesMosaic Life Care at Shoal Creek, Courtyard

8870 NE 82nd TerraceFriday, July 24thCherry Bomb 7pm

Fat Fish Blue7260 NW 87thin Zona RosaLive Music Most Weekends

Sherlock’s Underground858 S 291 LibertyEvery Wed at 8pm Oasis

The Hideout6948 N. OakEvery Thursday is Bike Nite withDave Hayes Band, Levee Town, andBlue 88 Open blues jam Sundays, 7 p.m.

Pat’s Pub1315 Swift in NKCEvery Wed nite Open Jam hosted by RobGray

Wabash BBQ1 Elm Street, Excelsior Spr.Sat 7/11 Lauren AndersonSat 7/18 Amanda FishSat 7/22 South Side Souls

Shannon Bond

The gravel streams under the ped-als to a rhythm of soft chain noise and crunching tires. The seat has a particu-lar feel as you slide back and your knee twinges every time you turn it slightly to the left. When there is only time, your bike, your carefully timed nutrition, and the rolling grandeur of the Flint Hills, every detail counts. The Dirty Kanza (DK), hosted out of Emporia, Kansas, is a roller coaster of physi-cal, mental, and emotional challenge. It is a holistic experience of joy and anxiety. Joy comes from the freedom and celebration of exploration and movement. Anxiety comes from doubt and fear that your chain will break or your derailleur will somehow be mangled, especially in the mud this year. The idea of not finishing after train-ing for months can be terrifying. You know, however, that if you can just find that rhythm of peddle strokes, nutrition, and mindfulness, everything will be fine. All of these words and concepts, while ad-equate, don’t capture the spirit of riding in, and finishing the race.

The first time I experienced the DK was last year. I went to the workshops at Cycle City Bike and Running Company in Parkville, Mo. I listened to the inspiring, and slightly intimidating, stories of DK survival, and incomplete attempts. I tried to soak it in. It was my first gravel race and the consensus from my cycling companions was that if you were going to do 100 miles, you might as well do 200. In my excitement just before registration this makes sense. A year later, I can see the slightly flawed logic. But I don’t regret it.

What was the best advice I got before the race?Pace yourself. Ride your race, know your limits. You have to

keep it at or above 10 miles per hour, this is your base line. Train to that first, then gradually increase. It’s important to discover your pace and peddle stroke limitations through training. It’s also important to know how to task your cardiovascular system or your muscles. It’s easier to recover from a cardio load, but it takes a balance to make it through seventeen hours and 10,000 feet of climbing. Think about those sustained climbs and how much gas you need in your tank for the rest of the day.

You will be on a rollercoaster. The highs will be great and the lows can be very low. Work on your mantras and practice mindful peddling. Stay in the moment when you can but know when to let your mind wander. For some rea-son, I like to do math when I ride. Not multiplication tables or anything, that would be weird, but I like to think about times. If I maintain this pace for a certain amount of time, I will reach the next check point at such and such time. I know the Garmin is giving me all of this but it helps me to tick off the minutes if I do it in my head. It also keeps my strategy on track because everything changes. That flat tire

slows you down, or in my case, that broken wheel skewer.Nutrition, nutrition, nutrition. Eat every thirty minutes and

drink at least every twenty. I still practice this on all of my long rides. If I get hungry, it’s too late, the wall is coming. This year, I did hit that wall around mile 55. Luckily, after stuffing a Bonk Breaker bar and a whole package of chomps down my throat I was able to come out of it.

Something else I’ve learned from racing and training in gen-eral is that you have to be flexible. This is true in everyday life, and physical fitness. For example, this year has been a personal roller coaster of car accidents and illness so I didn’t have the training time to commit to the 200 mile course. Fortunately the DK promotors understood and changed my 200 mile registration to the 100 mile. It was a mud filled adventure that was well worth it. And, for the first time, I rode an entire day with friends. I’m usually

alone so this was a great change and an entirely different kind of experience. Several of us agreed that we would be back for a third time next year, and hopefully I’ll be racing the sun when the time comes.

It’s hard to explain what the DK is or the emotions you move through before, during and after. I imagine that it is a combination of the dedicated people, brilliant Flint Hills backcountry, and your overwhelming mental and physical effort. You always learn more than you anticipate and this year was no different. For instance, I learned that people are much stronger than they give themselves credit for or believe (that hike-a-bike was brutal). Over the course of endurance training, I’ve also learned that I was never pushing myself near my potential. And, if I create boundaries, I will limit myself. While it’s important to pace your training, it’s just as im-portant to realize that you are capable of incredible feats. It comes down to a combination of mental and physical conditioning and the willingness to accept the environment around you, including pain and discomfort.

Getting Down with the Dirty Kanza

Well, it just might be, according to numerous clinical studies as re-ported in other media sources.

Turmeric, the yellow spice that makes mustard yellow and forms the basis for Indian curries, is making headlines these days because of the anti-inflammatory properties of its chief phytochemical, curcumin. Rural Indians, who eat turmeric in their curries daily, have long been known to have some of the lowest rates of Alzheimer’s Disease and cancers in the world, and research is strongly suggesting that curcumin may be respon-sible.

Inflammation has been tagged as the “smoking gun” behind almost every chronic disease. so anything that helps quench inflammation is wel-come news, indeed. In fact, M.D. Anderson, the prestigious cancer center in Houston, reviewed curcumin research and reported it in the journal Phytotherapy Research last year, finding that the yellow spice regulates inflammation that “plays a major role in most chronic illnesses....”

The natural health industry has been aware of curcumin’s benefits for some time. Almost all of the supplement companies feature a turmeric/cur-cumin product of some type. One of them, EuroPharma’s CuraMed, was recently named top antioxidant supplement by Vitamin Retailer magazine. CuraMed contains BCM95, a patented extract of curcumin and tumeric essential oil that is absorbed 10 times better than straight curcumin. It’s available here locally at A to Z in 375 mg. and 750 mg. softgels and in a new effervescent tablet that dissolves in liquid.

As Terry Lemerond, the well-respected founder of EuroPharma says, “I’ve never seen an ingredient with as much capacity for improving health and fighting disease as curcumin.” For more information, come on down to the store and we will give you a copy of Terry’s article entitled, “Cur-cumin: The All In One Solution for Health.”

Thank you for your continued support of our independent health food store!

Check out the new items on on sale rack such as the Yogurt Greens Bars. YUM!--James FlyCertified Health Coach (Institute for Integrative Nutrition)

Curcumin: Nature’s All-in-one Solution?

saintjoseph.com

Where to gowhen you come to

St. Joe

Sam Renfro

I was visiting a friend in a local nursing home and as I entered the complex I saw this old dude bent over the handlebar of his Jazzy-chair, headed toward the very back reaches of the parking lot.

Afraid he was asleep at the wheel (or worse!), I swerved after him. I rolled down the window as I pulled along-side. He slowly rotated his head to take me in without slowing his ½ mile per hour pace.

“Everything OK, pal?”, I asked. He smiled and raised his trash bag and his grabber stick at me.

He told me they let him roam the lot as long as he doesn’t go past the corner. Said it keeps him from going crazy.

He said after working every day of his life, he didn’t know how to stop. He’d worked for the Sanitation Department for over 40 years and now he’s keeping the lot clean at his retirement home.

If you’re lucky enough to enjoy your work whatever it is, I guess you never really retire in your mind. When it’s my time for that level of care, I hope I’m putting out the nursing home newsletter.

Still On The Job