I came to Bailey’s after serving the closing shift at the Portland Craft Beer fest and I deserved a beer. Sat down on the rail and ordered what looked like the most interesting thing: Buoy‘s Foraged for Thought, a North Coast Gruit with honey, cranberries and rose hips.
After a long day at the craft beer fest serving, this is about dead on. Crisp, fruity, a bit tart; this beer is a hell of an argument for these weirdo kinds of styles.
I had this whole spiel, “Happy birthday, America, it’s a great republic, if you can keep it, however we manage to struggle right now” going. You know. Old man rants.
Which leads us to; How DO we keep struggling? Especially without heading down a path of “Just burn it all down!” As if that helps.
In hour three of my serving shift-it’s late in the day, the drunks are getting cocky, my knees vocally unhappy, and for two hours I had to listen to a loop of music that included “I think we’re alone now“. Twice. I swear that has got to be a crime against the innocent. Or at least against me.
A DJ took over and people were starting to dance, which is always a crowd lightening event. It’s a little amazing how that works; people dancing equals a bit of joy
Two women nearby were really getting into Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough” and another woman, asking for a glass of wheat beer from me, said “How do I get to their level?”
For once I listened to the first thing that came into my head.
“I think you just decide to dance.”
Today’s second pint goes to the International Rescue Committee.