After the past two weeks of quiet nights, we are back to the regular crowded house, with reggae and house music dominating the atmosphere. It’s almost enough for me to request that the back corner get revamped into a tiny card and writing space just for me. I’m not here quite enough to justify that but a man has got to have a dream. I can only take so much unts-unts-unts before I start thinking I’m in eurodisco hell and comprehending why any music with guitar is better than better than non-guitar music.
I’m sipping on Alameda’s Papa Noel, again two weeks after the fact. It’s remarkably easy to drink, with a loose chocolate-caramel vibe.
At the table to my left, three men are arguing about the myth of President Regan. Loudly.
Man, the 80’s fucking sucked. This is the loudest thought in my brain, as they deconstruct how brilliant a President Mr. Regan was, while also insisting Carter was an asshole and…ugh.
Man, the 80’s fucking sucked. Middle school, high school (which all good humans despise), the greediest greed ever starting up and some of the worst goddamn pop music known to man.The girlfriend even commented on this, listening to mix tapes I made during the era, because that was all we had to play while moving and organizing the house.
“Your taste was awful,” she told me while listening to a song whose lyrical content could be summed up with the statement: ‘We play rock on the radio’.
“Sometimes,” I replied. “I mean…it was the 80’s. Nearly everything that I liked that was really good wasn’t popular, or was popular 10 years ago. Everything else was just filler but I didn’t think I had much choice, then.”
“Man, the 80’s were awful for you,” She didn’t know the half of it.
Still, I made it. Most of us did and there’s always something good about surviving.
Half way through the Papa Noel and I’m reconsidering my position; this ale seems a little thin. It doesn’t taste bad but if it was bulked up just a hair in the mouthfeel, I’d probably promote this beer from decent to really good.
I was also tempted by Gilgamesh’s Vader because part of growing up in the 80’s is knowing who your villains are. Glad I dodged that one though: I got a sip from a friend and it smells and tastes like freshly used coffee grounds. To hell with that.
That’s a pretty dissatisfying beer sampling for the night. I think I may have to try another in order to recoup my losses. I have choices: something better is certainly out there. Wish me luck.