We walk at different times every day. At least I think we do. We see an opening, we suit up and take off. Maybe we are a lot more predictable than I think we are because we are always running into these two women. You can only see one in the photo because the older one stays in the car while her daughter (we’re guessing) walks the poodle. They drive to this location, park awkwardly and the one woman gets out with the dog. We talk about the weather. It is always a nice day or “nicer than yesterday” and then we wave hello to the woman in the car. She smiles and that is it.
Since I have this photo up I’d like to call your attention to the area off to the left, behind the car, right where the road disappears around the bend. That is where the “Budweiser Man” tossed his empty cans for five years or so. Something happened to the guy because there have not been any cans here for months. You can see from these old links that I’ve been picking up after this guy since 2008.
It was a double header for me today. First a walk with Peggi up on the ridges over Spring Valley where we ran into deer enthusiast and neighbor, Steve Greive, dressed in camouflage but armed only with his camera. He told us he had only seen a couple of fawns, no bucks, and he said that he had seen a young buck mounting another buck near his house, “some gay action.” At the end of our loop we found evidence of the return of Budweiser man again, a half dozen 22 ounce cans in the usual spot. He apparently was on the wagon for awhile.
Round two started down at the lake where I met my sister. We headed over the swamp on the new bridge and up the path through the woods to the Parkside Diner where we sipped hot chocolate and announced early resolutions to make the new year a good one.
Admittedly, the pickins are slim out here. I filled whole scrapbooks with the stuff we found on walks in the city. I don’t expect to find junk in the woods and I’m happy not to but when we cut through the park, little things, like golf balls and drug bags, catch my eye.
I’ll have to check my records but it seems when we first started bringing home the Budweiser cans, that we always find in the same spot, they were 22 ounce cans. The one we brought home today is a 25 ouncer.
I hadn’t checked the beer spot on Hoffman Road since our last thaw. The Budweiser man is still active. I should say I don’t know for a fact that it is a man who has been dumping these cans in the same spot for the last five years. Heck, it might even be the little woman who drives down to the marsh to walk her scruffy white dog. Her mother rides in the back of the car and used to get out but those days are over. Now she sits back there and waves to us through the glass. Like us they are regulars and the only thing we talk about is the weather. All other topics are pointless.
The road is a dead end so sometimes the women just stop their car right in the middle of the road. There is so little traffic down here that each car you see is either one of the few homeowners or a Budweiser suspect. I’ll bring a bag with me next time and clean up after the guy. I don’t really mind. I bring the cans to Michigan where I collect ten cents for each 22 ouncer.
If you do a google image search for “Budweiser cans Hoffman Road” you’ll see I have been covering this story for quite a while. Or do a Budweiser search in the search box on this page. I gathered up these cans today from the troll hangout near where the creek flows under Hoffman Road. We’ve never seen the trolls or the guy that has been habitually throwing these 22 ounce cans in the same spot for six or seven years now. We have a few suspects but we are not ready to name names.
Our best guess is that it is someone who walks (well most people walk) but walks like we do (“the walkers”). Someone in a car, even a stopped car, would never be able to toss their empty beer cans so accurately into this boggy area around the same fallen tree on a regular basis. It must be a walker and they probably do it at night. We rarely walk after dark so that would explain why we have never run into them.
By now I assume some neighbors think Peggi and I are the Bud freaks because they have spotted us carrying the empties back. The culprit probably has an OCD problem as well as a drinking problem. I mean you could get rid of an empty anywhere but these are always in exactly the same spot. I’ve thought about putting up a camera like the one Steve Grieve has out in the marsh to photograph deer but then I wonder if maybe there already is a camera up here photographing Peggi and I as we habitually pick up the cans.
Budweiser is not using their patriotic can design anymore (type Budweiser in the search engine on this page to see the other entries on this subject) and how about that one can (above) that is taller than the rest. Budweiser has taken their 24 ounce can up a notch. This one goes to 25.
A distinctive can tossed in the woods would certainly whet the appetite of a thirsty hiker. And if the can design was patriotic it would resonate with our sense of freedom as well as enhance the brand. A win win situation.
If you took a Sharpie and lightly touched your skin with it the black dot would be about the size of the nymph deer ticks that Peggi and I picked off of each other yesterday. Peggi took one to her doctor last week and she had it tested for Lyme Disease. The tick was not carrying it and thus far there have been no confirmed cases of ticks carrying Lyme disease in Monroe County but it is probably only a matter of time.
The ticks are so small we’ve been using this battery operated loop, a lighted magnifying glass with a focus dial that we used to use to inspect the registration of the rosette pattern on four color print jobs, to verify that the tiny black spot indeed have tiny legs. I couldn’t get a good look at one on my arm and feared that it had already burrowed in so I dug away at the spot with our tweezers until it was a bloody mess. I either removed a mole or an age spot and then put a band-aid on it.
I before e except after w. I dug this batch of cans out of a pretty little spot near the creek that crosses Hoffman Road. You couldn’t hit this spot if you were driving and tossing your cans from an open window. You would have to be on foot. These are all the work of one man and are usually all Budweiser cans. I had just cleaned this area a few weeks ago so I’m guessing the guy walks down this dead end road every day while slurping on of these big boys. I found a few torn up lottery tickets near the cans and because I didn’t have a bag with me I left the cans up near the road in this pile. When we returned today the cans were all gone and there was a new can down in the little hollow.
Over the years we’ve developed a few theories about who the Hoffman Road Budweiser guy is. We’ve suspected kids, the neighbor with the dog whose breath smelled like liquor one morning when we engaged him in conversation and the guy who built the new house up on the hill. In fact last summer we became certain he was our man because he defaulted on his mortgage, moved out and the pile of beer cans dried up.
I stuck my head over the embankment as we walked by the other day and couldn’t believe my eyes. We brought two Wegmans bags with us the next day and the pile of 24 ouncers barely fit in. Whoever he is he probably has a red nose and black bow tie.
My favorite thing about the Neil Young autobiography is not the wild stories about familiar names, it’s the little things like when he visited Costco for the first time. “My first big purchase was a set of replacement brushes for my Sonicare toothbrush.” Marveling at the vast organic food section and then remembering all the small mom and pop stores from his youth he writes. “I felt pretty old for a moment and then I regrouped and realized I was alive and should be thankful.”
The phantom Budweiser guy is back with a whole new look, the newly designed 24 ounce Budweiser cans. He dumped three of them in the his favorite, exact same spot in the last few days. I don’t really care for the new look. If they had asked me I would have suggested something clean with lots of white space or maybe red space and a bold retro looking crown icon. Certainly not the hideous bow tie if they they’re going after young kids.
I also came back with a golf ball that I found when we crossed the course. It must be left over from last year because they haven’t opened the course yet. A groundsman told us “maybe tomorrow.”
It was seventeen degrees when we took our walk this morning, a brief taste of winter before it heads to sixty on Wednesday. We walked the same loop as yesterday so we could check up on a recent batch of beer cans. We had found these in the usual spot so we tried a new approach to this ongoing situation. I tossed the cans back out on the road and left them there instead of bringing them home to recycle. When we returned today all the cans were gone but the Budweiser guy had thrown a new one down in the ditch.
We thought this guy moved away or went on the wagon or died maybe but he’s still around. At least he has slacked off a bit. These are the first cans we’ve found in months. Same guy for sure because the 22 ounce Budweiser cans were in the exact same spot. They look kind of Christmasy.
You know how nosey neighbors can be, always speculating about somebody else’s business. The house at the top of the hill in the photo above wasn’t even there when we moved here a few years ago and now it’s for sale. Zillow says their asking 300k and the place doesn’t even have a driveway. Neighbors say it went into foreclosure.
At the edges of the enlargement of the photo above you can see the hill dropping off on both sides, as steeply as it does in the front. We could not believe our eyes when they started building on this lot. Doesn’t the town of Irondequoit have “steep slopes” and “setback”regulations? Did money change hands here or was the town so desperate to increase the tax base that they gave this guy a pass? We hadn’t even set eyes on the owner and we were already calling him “The fool on the hill” but we’re really the fools because this was a beautiful hill on a gorgeous strip of land before they built this modern monstrosity on top of it.
Funniest thing about all of this is I haven’t found a beer can since this guy moved out. We used to haul home twenty at a time from the spot by the creek directly across from his house. We ran into him a few times with the bags of 20 ouncers and we asked if he had any idea who the hops head was. Could it be we found Mister Budweiser?
I can picture falling forward as well as springing back so this “Spring Forward, Fall Back” thing has always been hard for me to envision. I might just set my watch forward tonight and get a jump on things so it doesn’t feel like we really lose that precious hour.
We spotted a few crocuses out in our neighbor’s yard and these yellow flowers are out in our back yard. The geese are overhead, flying north and carrying on their own conversation. I found nine golf balls where the snow was as we crossed the golf course today. And we found these beer cans in the the usual spot on Hoffman Road. We were ready for the cans. Peggi had two Wegmans bags in her pocket and we filled them both. We continue to speculate wildly about who it might be that drinks these 24 ounce cans and then chucks them habitually in the same spot. It’s been going on for a few years now and kids would have grown out this kind of thing. Maybe a neighbor or someone who comes down here to drink beer and look at the wildlife.
I had six cans in my arms already when I spotted these. The Budweiser man has struck again. I say “man” but who knows. We speculate endlessly about whether this is the work of a kid. It can’t be. No kid would continue doing this for three years! It must be an adult and it must be a man. A lady wouldn’t buy a 24 ounce can of Bud, would she? And are these cans thrown here from a moving car? Tossed across a lane from the driver’s side. I doubt it. They are always in the same spot. He would have to be too good a shot. Who would walk this far down a nearly deserted dead end street? We usually come to the same conclusive guess. It must be one of the neighbors. “Honey I’m going out to walk the dog.” Someone who is already in the doghouse for their drinking!
I guess I should admit it. I like to play golf. I’ve got my own rules though and I don’t use any clubs. I don’t even start with any balls. When our walking route takes near the golf course I’ll stay off the fairways and walk the woods next to the fairways looking for balls. The other day I found four and today I found six including a “Nike”, a “Nitro X Factor” and and a “MC Lady”. If I find a beer bottle I throw it back out on the fairway.
Speaking of beer, the Budweiser guy has slowed his pace this summer. I’ve checked his usual 20-ounce dumping grounds when we take that route but have been coming up clean.
Another one of our routes takes us by an entrance to the park where dog walkers park. You gotta watch where you step here. Lately I’ve been picking up these brightly colored cigar tubes. At first I pictured some guy have having a smoke as he walked his dog but yesterday we walked by a group of teens who turned their music down as we walked by. I’m thinking it might have been Wu Tang’s “Method Man”. “I got fat bags of skunk/I got White Owl blunts.”
Most of this snow is gone. I took this photo a few days ago. We were down there again today and found more giant Bud cans and we picked some Pussy-willows while we were at it. Those are 24 ounce cans. Luckily we found an old bag to put them in. A school bus passed us as we were heading back with an armload of cans today. We waved. This Budweiser guy is remarkably consistent not only in the brand he drinks but in exactly where he throws his empties. A compulsive drunk.
I spent most of the day redrawing a three dimensional wagon wheel-like graphic for a client. It was probably generated in PowerPoint but they wanted to use it at poster size so I redrew it in Illustrator. Type on a curve, a million callouts, one of those crazy organizational charts that make your eyes glaze over.
Yogi tea bag fortune read “Empty your self and let the universe fill you.” I like that one. Most of them are annoying. I roughed up a painting in class and my teacher commented, “That guy is looking a lot more casual”. Made me realize what an important quality that is.
Now that the snow is gone, the beer cans are starting to come out down on Hoffman Road. We’re not really sure who is dumping all these. We have speculated wildly and even suspected neighbors but who knows. I bring them home so I don’t have to look at them, that and I collect the five cents. I don’t think kids would be so stuck on the Budweiser brand. And they wouldn’t always throw them in the same place. This seems like the work of an obsessive alcoholic, as if there is any other kind.
Well, I signed up to be notified when the iPad becomes available. I read so much hype and speculation about the product that the movie on Apple’s site looked like a spoof. I’m guessing Bob Martin will already have an iPad when get to the Little for tonight’s gig.
Brad Fox sent me one of those small 33 1/i books on Trout Mask Replica and the behind the scenes tales of that seminal Captain Beefheart lp were really interesting. I noticed a few other books from this series on the shelf at Duane‘s place in Brooklyn so I asked if I could borrow a them. I read “Low” first and learned that David Bowie was a bit of Nazi nut. So it came as no surprise when Quentin Tarantino used Bowie’s Cat People Theme (Putting Out Fire) in Inglourious Basterds. It seemed everything was borrowed in that movie and then I heard the movie itself was a remake. I dug out our 45 of that song and it sounded fantastic, best thing in that movie, the theme song from another movie.
I’m reading Joe Harvard’s (sounds like a made up name) 33 1/3 book on The Velvet Underground and Nico and loving it. Next up is Exile on Main Street and then I might have to buy one. Bruce Eaton has written one on Big Star and it includes a passage on Pete LaBonne. I never caught on to Big Star in the day but I guess there is still time.
Our neighbor, Leo, lost his teeth and so he puts all his food in blender but he can still gum his way through pumpkin pie. We gave him a few pieces yesterday and I met him at the door this morning when he brought the empty pie tin back. He looked down at this small pile of Budweiser product by our door but didn’t say anything so I volunteered that we found them all down on Hoffman Road when we were walking. After a few month break the Budweiser guy is back in business. I noticed that Bud did a 50 year commemorative 20 ounce can for the hapless Bills.
I miss “Print Magazine” and I’m still an avid newspaper reader but we were certain print was about dead for our business but we wound up working yesterday and today on revisions for an annual report (that was supposed to be at the printers before Thanksgiving) and a neighborhood association brochure (that is due on Monday). It still feels dead even as we work overtime on it, all that fussing with CMYK, traps, dot gain and line breaks. Can’t wait to get back on the MySQL project we started where we imported a database with links on the part numbers that pop open a generic drawing that gets specific measurement data fed to the drawing from the database.
We’ve been eating leftovers since t-day. I sort of feel like that pile of bud cans at our door.
In a sure sign of Spring they have put the flags up on Durand’s golf course. Beer and golf are really made for each other. We came home with a ball that we picked up as we crossed the course and a can that we found along the road.
I did the math. These big cans of Budweiser are equivalent of two 12 ounce cans. And they are not the sort of thing that comes in six packs or cases. In fact the only way you can buy these giant cans is singularly (or in groups of single cans). Beer sold singularly in a 24 ounce can is marketed to people who are not taking it home for later. And once you open a can you pretty much have to drink the whole thing. So that leaves two types of beer buyers. Kids, who we first thought were responsible for tossing all these empties on one of our hiking routes, fit this profile but so does an alcoholic who doesn’t want to bring the beer home to his wife or get caught with it in his car. The later is our neighbor’s theory and he told us who he suspects.