L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

The Wages of Beer

July 7, 2008 on 4:45 pm | In Backstage Pass, Food, General Musing |

We played outdoors in Bellingham Sunday afternoon at a lovely, old-fashioned village square on a perfect sunny day filled with babies and dogs in the grass. The people danced for three solid hours. (I hope to have some pictures soon, but in the meantime, here’s a picture that shows the setting, if not the band).

Afterward, hungry and thirsty, we headed for the Archer Ale House across the street. If you’re ever up in Bellingham, Washington, I recommend you stop in for a brewski from their extensive selection and please, please, please don’t miss the beer-steamed mussels. You’ll need extra bread to sop up the heavenly liquid. I fashioned a crude spoon from an empty mussel shell. A bluesy three-piece blue grass band strumming by the bar drowned out the Yankees/Red Sox game on the overhead plasma TV. (By popular vote, Coco Crisp is the best name in baseball. Perhaps the best name in sports. Ever.)

First pitcher of beer: The chatter turns to sports. Specifically, which sport has the stupidest athletes? We thought it might be either baseball or basketball. In the end, I offered to consult an expert. My friend, Calvin Beam, who was a sportswriter in Philadelphia had this take on the subject:

“Ahh, always a great debate. It used to be baseball and hockey players, because they were drafted right out of high school, while the others were sort of exposed to four years of college. But the advantage to baseball and hockey players is that they have periods of time in the minors with long bus trips. They at least become social and a reasonable quote for sportswriters. So now, I’m leaning toward basketball. They either don’t go to college, or go for a year and bail.

This of course is discounting boxing, which wins all these arguments hands down.”

Boxing! Doh!

Second pitcher of beer: Suds-inspired entrepreneurial creativity sets in. We invent a bar/restaurant concept that we’re convinced will make a fortune (a good thing, since music ain’t doing it): Pitchers. At the future Pitchers Ale House, everything is served in pitchers. You can get the pitcher of fries, the pitcher of pork. Even the pitcher of mac’n'cheese. Given the American addiction to trough-feeding, how can it fail? As an added entertainment element, diners will be given a substantial discount if they consent to consume their pitchers with hands handcuffed behind their backs. Investors, email me for a chance to get in on the ground floor.

Ok, so we’d been drinking.

Third pitcher of beer: There’s something so sad about the fact that the more you drink, the more brilliant you get but less you remember. I suppose it’s nature’s way of limiting the havoc that might be caused by too much brilliance.

See more like that one:

• Songs of My Enemies
• Stop the Sketch!
• Cash from Nigeria
• Play Freebird!
• Bailout Video Hits YouTube