Beer is proof

that God loves us and wants us to be happy." This quote has been attributed to Benjamin Franklin (and others, for all I know), but who cares, it's amusing, and has been my email tagline for a while. I'll probably change it soon, but just this morning, while pursuing my Saturday morning hoo-hah (treadmill, laundry, preparation for errands to the bank & Home Depot, etc.) I flipped the kitchen TV on (how many TVs do you have in your house? I'm amazed to report that we have five, though to be fair two of them, in the kids' rooms, don't get much use these days - but I digress) - I flipped on the kitchen TV, which is normally tuned either to the channels on which we watch eagerly for School Closing reports, or weather updates, or else the History channel. So it was The History Channel, and it was their Modern Marvels series episode about beer (which spends 15 minutes pointing out how non-modern beer is, then 20 minutes pointing out how good American beer was until about 1930, then 5 minutes pointing out how crappy American beer was between 1930 and 1980, then the rest pointing out how retrogression since then has improved American beer). All right on, of course. But it reminded me of how much I love beer, and how much beer I used to drink, and how much I still love beer, and how much more important to me the six or eight beers a month I have now are to me than the cases of Miller's or Oly or Luck or Hamm's or Lone Star (etc. etc.) were that I used to drink in the bad old days when I drank all the beer I wanted to. But I can't help thinking back to my first beer (Miller High Life, and I loved it right outta the chute, unlike most people who claim it's an acquired taste), and periods in my life when a six of Pabst Blue Ribbon for $2.00 was a luxury, and also of course my introduction to dark draft at The Wursthaus in Old Harvard Square, served by Dino, who might - if you're not careful - burst into a Verdi aria, but that's a whole nother post.

I am very grateful for the resurgence of "micro" breweries, which return us (sorta) to the day when local houses brewed their own, and pubs were known by their brews, rather than their decor. Thinking about it, I'm not altogether sure that this time ever really existed, or if it's really a place in Wodehouse-land (theme park of my dreams!). But the fact is that local micros don't mind trying things out for a little while, then putting them aside for their "regular" lines and maybe coming back to them later if demand is there.

I dunno. There should be more good beer in the world.