Technically, I think I’ve gone over. Borrowed time, if you will. I know I missed one week due to weather and I believe I missed another because I was ill. A year has passed-if the calendar is the only thing that matters. Let’s pretend it isn’t.
This doppelbock has some red wine tendencies; a faint grape-sour nose, maybe even something tannic on the back end. Gives the beer a dryness that I wouldn’t have expected. It’s sweet in front though, so it all works out.
I’m here early. You may have deduced that from the photo. The pub is quieter, for the most part and I get to have a nice conversation with a longhaired dude who knows a thing or two about music. He’s from Wisconsin and is about to go home for Thanksgiving. As a matter of fact, there’s even a reasonable crowd of people here for 4:30.
I don’t remember it being quite so lively this early a year ago. This may just be a random impression; anecdotes are not data, right? Still, glad to see one of my favorite bars doing good business.
I unwisely chose Heater Allen’s Pilsner after my doppelbock and I just can’t make out the subtleties of that beer. Usually it doesn’t matter but I may be fending off a slight cold. A sore throat at least, so my senses may not be as sharp as I’d like. A good beer I’m sure but everything has context, right? Serenity is a fantastic movie if you’ve seen Firefly. If not, then it’s just a decent sci-fi movie. So it is with a pilsner post doppelbock. Sort of.
Hurm. I seem to be a little scattershot today. Maybe it’s the time but I think it’s more likely that the pressure of doing something is there. As a matter of fact, I know it is; I can feel it, alien-chestburster-like, (images not for squeamish and may be frowned upon at workplaces) the feeling that I should say something important or…well, I guess that’s what I’d have a chance to do here, right? Say something important.
However, what I’ve realized is that change is primarily about changing the focus of your energy. So things won’t end, they’ll just shift for awhile. Why say something big and ‘final’ if things aren’t going to end? I’d be like the guy who screams that the nukes are coming and then emerges sheepishly the next day from a bomb shelter, humbled by the beauty of a sunrise and a city that hasn’t changed at all.
Next week will be the final 52 Weeks post (at least the final of this edition) and I can’t say I have something special planned for next week. I believe that’s how it ought to be. Like I said; I’m on borrowed time already, so I might as well just enjoy. I’ll be done with the writing by 8:30 though, so if readers would like to come and have a drink, feel free to come down.
A pint for Dionysus 