So, during a visit to Ottawa last month, I decided that if the world is in flames, I’d prefer to douse them with suds imbibed in company of old friends. One evening, still somewhat jetlagged and therefore pliable, I thoroughly enjoyed an evening at a local tavern with “G” and “M”, of which details still remain rather fuzzy—but a pleasant fuzziness.
Then two other compadres, “M” and “L”, informed me that the National Capital Craft Beer Festival would be held during my stay…and did I want to go? Since I do partake of the occasional social I forced myself (only for old time’s sake, of course) to go. I mean, they had to drag me there, kicking and screaming.As it turned out, the weather was less than good, but the variety and plethora of beers made up for that. 30 craft brewers plying their wares...hmm. Plus, a crowd of Ottawans drinking…means “polite” trouble.
Being responsible young-middle-aged pillars of society, we caroused just the right amount, kept our wits about us, and avoided any interaction with our esteemed law enforcement officers.
And thus did a night of many mini-beers take my mind away from the troubles of the world. Thanks, boyz.