I’ve never been a big fan of beer and the “hoppier” it is, the less I like it. Currently in western New York state craft breweries are appearing everywhere. They make beer with fruit, nuts, spices, coffee and chocolate. I haven’t developed a taste for those types of beer either. If I’m going to drink it, I want it to taste like a good old fashioned Bud. Quite honestly I couldn’t tell you the difference between an ale, a lager or an IPA.
We have some friends whose son is an avid beer drinker. He has worked and traveled all over the globe. He rates countries and locales by the cost and quality of the beer. When he comes home for a visit we love to hear about the places he has been. The descriptions include landscape, friendliness, food, degree of expense and how good the beer is. If it was me telling the stories I would include all the same description, leave out the beer, and include whether the place had a quilt shop or not. To each his own…..
One can’t begin to think about beer without the mind going to sporting events. Football is much more appealing if there is wings and beer involved. Baseball needs peanuts and beer. A golf match, outside in the warm sun also calls for a beer. I have never been to a soccer match, but I hear about beer at those events too. Funny, if you watch the game on TV at home, the beer isn’t as important (for some).
There is a small town near where I live that is exactly one mile square, has its own police force, fire station, school system, library and lots of bars and restaurants. It is a popular food destination. Sometimes I wonder how much beer is sold in that tiny area. Does it matter? No. It’s just fun to think about. You can do a bar crawl on two streets and not walk over half a mile. One doesn’t need to drive home in a tipsy state now that we finally have Uber. That’s a good thing.
I didn’t look up the statistics about how much beer is consumed in the United States in a year. I’m sure the gallon total is a lot. Our summer is winding down so yard work is lessening, but I must say, after mowing the lawn, there’s nothing like an ice-cold beer to wet the whistle.