My recently developed passion for beer has landed me in a quandary. Put simply, there’s too much of it. English pubs are a need of british life and in being so, put beer in as much need as the venue.
Faced with this quantity and (yet to be clarified) variety, a long term, calibrated, budgeted strategy must be employed to maximize this opportunity without gluttony, misuse of time, funds or dignity. Ideas? Anyone? No, neither have I. Cheers then. Gulp.
One would think that such a social people, always meeting, drinking, talking, that this would create a vibrant, intelligent, community minded people. But I’m yet to eaves drop on the conversations. I’ll keep you posted.
But meanwhile, I walk the streets that have filled my eyes for decades (thank you BBC). No cultural cringe here. Filming every street brick and naming it is part of the british condition. As is the U.S, who celebrate themselves like no other kind of animal, short of the male Peacock in mating season. Australia hides itself a little more discreetly. In fact, its not discreet at all. Stick your head out and name the street brick and there’ll be someone there the next day putting high-vis tape around the area, calling it a high-cringe zone that is not to be focused on, mentioned or mattered, lest we fall into a way of self appreciating that leads to someone telling you that you’re a bit shit. Stick your head in mate.
The beer here isn’t warm as the legend will have it, just delightfully room-temerature. I see the benefit. Less energy to convert it to body temperature = get drunk quicker. Its cheeper that way. Perhaps if we chilled the average national beer temperature by 4 degrees, we might reduce a lot a casual violence. I’ll put it to the local representative. Over a beer.