“Look!” I cried, “The Cardinal’s back! It must be the black oil sunflower seed that I put in the feeder!” As those words tumbled from my mouth, I knew I was screwed. My friend Steve was speechless.
As a children’s librarian, I read hundreds of picture books to kids every year. Once a month or so, I pick up a book that seems oddly familiar and I have the experience, an almost physical sensation that I’ve begun to call the Memory Rush.
“Beer hunting” is a term inspired by the activities of iconic beer writer Michael Jackson, the Beer Hunter. My pursuit of all things beer was fueled in part by our friendship and his passion. I can say for sure that I was there at the beginnings of both the CAMRA efforts in England (I’m a life member―Membership No. 21,192; current membership is approximately 120,000) and America’s beer renaissance, which started in the early 80s. My beer hunting has never faltered and I haven’t taken a day off since! Read More…
I come from the land of light ales. It took me three decades to realize this, and when I say it to some of my fellow Brits, they think I am unpatriotic and are visibly shocked. We shock easily over here, perhaps through being borne of such sober preferences.
Perhaps, as an enlightened beer drinker, you have a collection of like-minded associates who anxiously anticipate every new release or upcoming beer festival. Possibly, as a group, you adventurously sample each new draft or bottle that pops up at your local pub or eagerly gather up the latest six-packs and bombers to hit the shelves of your neighborhood stores. Then again, maybe you are like me. Read More…
Beer has been an integral part of my life for over three decades—a somewhat auspicious statement for a slightly past 40-year-old man. Being born and raised in L.A. (Lower Arkansas), I was afforded the opportunity to explore malted beverages at an age that less refined cultures may find unacceptable.
