It's the beer, stupid. It's one of the jillions of reasons I love living here. I love beer, and I love living in the area that is home to hundreds of microbreweries, all working hard to make the stuff that makes me happy.
Yesterday, I was lucky to partake of about a dozen damn fine brews at the Summer Brewfest where sixty or so of the best brewers around cheerfully dispensed their best.
Afterburner IPA from Flyers Restaurant and Brewery, Oak Harbor, WA (although I have an inherent distrust of a joint that bills itself first as a "restaurant," and whose url is eatatflyers.com)
and of course
Imperial IPA from Boundary Bay Brewery and Bistro, Bellingham WA. Simply the best and within walking distance from my house! Life doesn't get much better than that.
Seen on t-shirts: Ithaca is Gorges The Liver is Evil and Must be Punished I get shit-faced drunk. How do you handle stress? Save the Ales
So thank you, men and women of the microbreweries, for working hard at your craft, for caring so damn much about the beer and about your consumers, and for being out there on a summer weekend so we can have a little fun and drink a lot of outstanding beer!
I nearly escaped. All day long I waited for them to let down their guard, to fall asleep, or to go off on a walk or drive so I could make a break for it. They didn't move. They seemed content to sit close and read their Bill O'Reilly books.
Finally, in the early afternoon, a couple of heads nodded into naptime and I heard a movie playing downstairs. I perked up as the doorbell rang: a golden opportunity! I ran wide-eyed to the door, opened it cautiously and found two women campaigning for Barack Obama. They smiled widely and handed me a brochure.
"Barack! Barack! Do you know Barack? We love Barack! You must read his books! He's smart! He's articulate! He's the answer! I hate Hilary, but I love Barack!"
"Listen," I said, stepping out onto the porch and pulling the door closed behind me, "I'm surrounded in there and you have to help me."
"Yes, surrounded. By Republicans! They're reading Bill O'Reilly! You gotta get me out of here!"
"Ohhhhhhhh. Republicans." They spoke softly. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. Can I join you?"
"Have you read The Audacity of Hope?"
"No. I mean, not yet."
"Oh. Well, then, no, you may not."
"Come on, ladies, please! I'm dying in there!"
"Sorry, really." They backed away and turned toward the stairs. "We'll call you later to see how you're doing," they said as they dashed away.
I looked down at the brochure. Happy Senator waving to the crowd. "I thought you were going to save me." Head hanging, I went back into the house, threw the brochure into the recycle bin, and sighed.
I live in the PNW. I recently started working from home as an ad copywriter and business writer. I was raised Catholic in a big 'ol Irish-German family. The love for beer took. The religion didn't take at all.