I would describe my child self as a trouble maker. I wouldn't call myself a rule breaker, though i often broke the rules. I just liked to mix it up, but i also knew my limits. I did some unlawful things, but nothing so serious that would land me in real trouble with law enforcement. However, one of the "serious" times i had an interaction with police as a youth was when i was 15 years old. I was living with my aunt at the time. She had dropped me and my cousin off in a shopping plaza with some other neighborhood kids so we could buy some CDs. We first went into the local Target to peruse the selection. Not finding anything to our liking, we left the store and walked down a few stores to the local Circuit City. Now, for those of you born after 1995, Circuit City was an electronics store similar to Best Buy that went out of business (which is where Best Buy is headed as well). We looked at the CDs there and decided we were not going to get anything, so we went back to the Target and stood outside waiting for my aunt to come pick us up. While standing outside Target, we were approached by a police officer on a bicycle. He asked us if we had been inside the Target. We told him yes we looked for some CDs before going down to Circuit City. He asked if we used the payphone inside. We told him no. Now, for those of you born after 1995, payphones were devices set up by the telephone companies around town, like in stores and on street corners, where one could place a phone call for approximately $0.25. They were like really big stationary cell phones, but they didn't have a screen or access to the internet. Oh, and also, CDs were "compact disc's" that we used to listen to music. Ask your dad about them. Anyway, we told the officer we were just waiting for our ride to come pick us up. He took down our names and the phone number for my aunt as she was our ride. He then asked us to follow him. We walked back into the Target over to the payphones. He said he had a complaint that someone had called 911 using the payphone (a free call) and then hung up. He asked again if we used the payphones. We again told him no. He then proceeded to accuse us of lying and said he knows we did. I became obstinate and continued to deny doing anything wrong because we didn't. He called over an employee, a young girl probably not much older than us, and asked her if we were the kids who had called 911. She gave us each a quick glance and said, "i don't know, i didn't see who it was." He thanked her and she walked away.
He then turned to us and said, "there you go, positive identity."
"Positive identity?!" i balked, shocked at the accusation, "she just said she didn't see the people who did it. How is that positive identity?!"
"I can get someone down here to dust for fingerprints if we need", he said while staring all his attention on me.
"Go ahead then, call them up," i replied, "we didn't use the phones."
"That's all they do," he shot back, squaring up to me to intimidate me, "they just drive around all day waiting for us to call them to a scene."
"Then get them down here. We have nothing to hide."
We stared at each other for a few seconds. He then said, "wait here," and walked away. We didn't see him again. My aunt arrived about 10 minutes later and said she had been called by a police officer who said we made a prank call to 911. But he didn't stick around to talk to her or follow up with anything. He just left.
That interaction taught me that it is important to get a good understanding of the situation before acting like you know what you're talking about. That officer was completely out of his depth. But instead of trying to get the facts straight he just started making wild accusations hoping one of us would crack. I don't want to be like that, but i am having a hard time with this root beer. It has a confusing history. It's been around since 1896, which is a long time to be in business. But when you visit the website, it says the name of the root beer is Bull's Head, not Pearson Bros. I think it started as Bull's Head but i have no idea how or when or why Pearson Bros. got put into the equation and/or why they needed to change the name on the label. It seems like the name change may just be for the U.S. distribution because i think it's still called Bull's Head in Canada. There were several breaks in production and buying and selling of rights by multiple parties. It's all very confusing. The label also says it's made in Canada where it originated, but the label also says it is bottled in Vermont. This root beer is living a double life. And if i can't get a straight answer i'm gonna call down someone to take some fingerprints so we can get to the bottom of this.
I have a few people working on my behalf to find root beers for me, so this a quick shout out to my buddy Kyle who picked this up for me at a local Cracker Barrel restaurant in the gift shop. I like the bottle. It looks like it's a medicine bottle from the 1800's. The label is good too. Lots of fun imagery and it really embodies the time it is trying to recreate. But if this is what root beers tasted like in 1896, then no thanks. This stuff is lifeless. The sniff test resulted in nothing and the taste test wasn't much better. It's like lightly carbonated, slightly sweet brown water. It's sweetened with cane sugar and the label calls it "natural", but it doesn't have a very earthy or natural taste to it, which actually works in its favour (<-- Canadian spelling). It's not putrid or acrid, but it's not pleasurable in the least. Even my children were unimpressed, and they are just a couple dumb kids who want to drink anything carbonated. Are you listening Bull's Head? This doesn't even appeal to children.
My official review is that Pearson Bros./Bull's Head gets 3 (three) IBCs. Honestly, a 3 is generous. Probably should be a 2 but it's not so completely off-putting that i want to spit it out. What is this stuff called? Where is it from? What is it supposed to taste like? I can't get the facts straight and i certainly won't be drinking this stuff again. But for all the things i don't know about this root beer, i do know one thing; it's not good. Now that's positive identity.