Which Is Good
Monday. I picked up Mr. E at the Rockridge BART station this morning and we drove over to Mr. S's house up in the Oakland hills, they to start a batch of beer, I to watch and shoot the odd picture. Although my father brewed beer when I was much younger and Mr. W of comix fame did the same, I have never seen it done from start to finish. Oh, and we drank some of the commercially available product provided by Mr. S: I, being a goody two-shoes, sticking to a couple of cans of Guinness over the course of the afternoon while they, well they tapping their shoes to a different beat sampling the products of various commercial ventures throughout the afternoon.
Still, a good time was had by all and all had a good time. This on a work day Monday, we realized: I retired, Mr. S retired, Mr. E thinking he was going to have to get another job one of these days (being a youngster in his early fifties with kids to put through college), but able, seemingly without effort, to ease into this “retired” making beer on a Monday business. Back home in time to watch the PBS Newshour with the head and sinuses fucked, otherwise feeling good. Which is good.
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