By Fred Prout
I like beer. Actually, I love beer. I especially love the taste of beer. Bock, Porter, Stout. The thick, dark, stand up a spoon in it, beer. Or, a really hoppy ale. Taste is everything. I know you will call me a beer snob when I tell you that I don’t like the Buds, Millers or Coors of the world. Just my taste, mind you. No reflection on you if that’s your thing. I won’t even mention Light ( Lite ) beer. They are an abomination and an insult to the brewer’s craft. So I will give them no mention and pretend they do not exist. Mainly because I don’t want to insult my many friends who choose to imbibe this swill. Live and let live I say. To each his (or her ) own. So no derogatory words about lite beer. Dreck would be a word if I were using any.
Where did this rant come from? Well, my friendly ER doc, Doctor Torquemada, prescribed a new pill. “I will tell you before you ask” he said. “Do NOT have alcohol while taking this pill. I know you think the warning on the label.
“Do not take with alcohol” means swallow with water, then go back to your beer. So, don’t even LOOK at alcohol while you are taking this pill. It will be less than thirty years, so be patient.” More about this next time.
Friday and Saturday we have social hour. They provide snacks, beer and wine. Every once in a while they splurge and get real beer. Friday, as I was piteously explaining to one and all why I was drinking Sparkling Cider, one of my friends asked if I had ever tried O’Doul’s non alcoholic beer. That fortuitous question ignited my remaining brain cells. The earth stood still, voices receded into the ether, the angels sang and I saw the most beautiful white light. I had been trying to come up with a new story idea, but I was stuck. When Irigachi said those magical words, it was like a mental enema. Thoughts and words came cascading out.
No, I didn’t think I would abase myself and try a sip. O’Doul’s non alcoholic beer. The very idea that an Irish name could be associated with a non alcoholic beverage, levitated the nearest pen and paper into my hand. So why not Rabinowitz’s Pork Roll. The culture and the product are at such opposite ends of the spectrum, that they should not be seen in the same sentence.
How about Oscar Meyer’s Pure All Tofu Hot Dogs. Sugar free cinnamon buns. Egg free omelettes with turkey bacon. Biscuits and sausage free gravy. The list goes on and on. Let your brain run free and see what other horrors you can come up with. Maybe nylon bath towels. Genuine imitation … anything. How about cage free sugar. Gluten free ham. Plant based meat. How about…Petco selling “Genuine Cow Ears.” As opposed to from fake cows? “Authentic Japanese Yakisoba, Made in China.” I think my head is going to start spinning again.
Just as an FYI, my fridge contains an almost three year old bottle of Black Butte Porter. It is a message to the future. I’m saving it so when I shuffle off this mortal coil, people will say I lived well and had good taste.
Meanwhile, the pills are working, and the clock is ticking. Tick Tock. Less than thirty years my yess.