Beer has been coming up a lot for me lately. I don't know why, but I have no choice but to go where the unconscious mind takes me, so here are some factoids:
I don't like beer.
When visiting Prague long long ago, I discovered I didn't mind Pilsner (I had no choice but to try it, since beer and oxygen seem to be the staples there, and oxygen may be optional in a pinch).
But I'd rather have a Kahlua and cream.
Inviting someone to go out for Kahlua and cream after work seems somehow not right.
While I generally hate talking about the "good old days" (they weren't good, they were almost always rather sucky old days), I do like to harken back, with the theme of this blog, to the days when people could disagree starkly on politics while sitting in the barber shop, then retire to the local saloon and have a great time together over beers.
Or, you know, over the girl drinks of choice.
Yet, while I think the world would be a better place if more people were willing to have a beer together despite their differences, I am on record as having a list of people I won't have beer with.
What does all this mean? If you're picking up the Kahlua tab, I'll tell you...
