Beer, Beer, Beer

Day 22: A long time ago, way back in history,
When all there was to drink was nothin' but cups o' tea,
Along came a man by the name of Charley Mopps,
And he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops...
(From the English drinking song, Beer Beer Beer.)

I like beer. No, scratch that...I love beer. I love the smell, the taste, and the sensation of holding a frosty mug/can/bottle in my hand. I like expensive foo-foo beer, and I like cheap PBR or Schaeffer. I like imports, and I like domestic. I am a fan of (in the words of my good friend and philosopher Brian "Skippy" Kidd) of an ice-cold barley pop.

A beer buzz is different from the feeling one gets from wine or a cocktail (both of which I hold in high regard, of course.) It brings to mind the tiddly feeling enjoyed on a chilly Christmastime evening in college, strolling the campus with one's true love (of the week) after quaffing a few at a holiday party. At other times, it conjures memories of lazy summer afternoons fishing or sitting at an outdoor concert. Beer is arguably the most sociable of all adult beverages. While I am sure I have enjoyed a beer solo on more than one occasion, the mere mention of it suggests conviviality and a jocularly communal spirit. When a 12-pack and ice chest meet, a gathering of friends is likely to follow...

I prefer draft beer, but bottled/canned is also quite good.

When I was in my early twenties, I spent a delightful summer in Manteo, North Carolina, performing in the outdoor drama The Lost Colony. Manteo is a cozy little town, one of two nestled on tiny Roanoake Island, on NC's Outer Banks. (Just for the record, the other town is called Wanchese, named, as was Manteo, for a famous Native American tribal leader.) One of the delights of Manteo was (and I suppose remains) The Weeping Radish Brewery, which served up gargantuan steins of freshly-brewed beer that was about as tasty as any I have ever sampled. The Weeping Radish was a popular place, particularly around payday.

There was once a rather inexpensive and (presumably) indelicate little brew known as Frothingslosh, which was quite popular in the early 1960's, if memory serves. My hero, the great Jim Backus, provided the voice-over for a series of commercials which happily observed "Oh my gosh! It's Frothingslosh!" It was also marketed as the only beer "with the foam on the bottom," which simply meant that the labels were applied upside down to the bottles and cans. Marketing is a fine thing...

This essay must now draw to a close, as the beer I was drinking whilst writing has oddly evaporated, leaving me with an empty can. Steps must be taken to remedy this ghastly turn of events...

In today's News From The Motherland...a forgotten treasure uncovered...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8252978.stm

Cheers!
FLT3