Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Beer me another Brewskie Bubba

Beer. Last week you may recall that I mentioned this miracle brew once or twice. To the Suthunah, Beer is more than just a beverage. It has become part of the very fabric of society. Celebrations hinge on its inclusion, but more than that, beer is a part of every day life. On any given day you can sit in the parking lot of any convenience store that sells the golden elixir and count the number of people headed home who stop in for a 12 pack (or 24 pack for those larger families) to stock the fridge. Daily. If it's the weekend, (especially a major sports weekend) this number grows exponentially.

In addition, several dozen 'micro-breweries' have sprung up across the south proving that the South has its own share of quality brew masters.

My brother, Bubba, makes his own beer. I'm not sure if you'd call him a brew-master, but he has been known to fill a few cases of beer each year. His one claim to fame (if you can call it that) is that his beer has been known to explode the bottles while they sit in the cupboard. Personally, I think that this just gives him an excuse to drink more. "Gotta drink these up 'afore they 'splode." (He lives in Colorado, so I don't really know why he talks like that.)

The problem (and the reason for this entire blog today) is that I don't drink beer. Never could get past the taste. Yes, I know there are millions of people who think I'm wrong. Suthunahz from New Orleans to Raleigh enjoy beer on a daily basis and remark to each other how great it is - oh and not only does it taste great, but is it less filling. I'm sure that they all can easily tell the difference between Ale and Lager and Light Beer and Non-Light beer. To me, they all taste the same and it's not good. I end up making that 'beer face' and someone makes fun of me and then there's gunfire..and...well, it's not pretty.

Now don't get me wrong. Every now and then one of my son-in-laws or some neighbor will come over with a case of some dark brew and I'll do the good thing of tipping one back. If their timing is right, and the day is hot enough, that bad bitter beer taste will magically turn into the perfect thing to drink at that very moment. It's days like that where I feel that I might actually be one of the natives.

Welcome to the South. Get me another beer there, Bubba, 'afore they 'splode.

No comments:

Post a Comment