Beer. Bacon. Have I got your attention now?

Right now I am listening to a killer recording of the opening song from the last Radiohead show in Boston (there is a video of it on Bros11 here). My Bro from back in the day just emailed it to me. Nicely.

It is still early March and the weather has turned downright freakishly spring-like. But it's supposed to snow again in a couple days. Fucking typical New England shit. God, I hope I end up on the west coast, the manic pattern here is definitely not helping my fragile psyche right now. But at least it will be light out until 6:30 tonight, which is tight. I feel that Smokey Joe is about to make his 2009 debut in the driveway soon.
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A few days ago I went up to my home-planet of Vermont to brew with a guy whom I have long admired (well, his beers, anyway) at his brewpub in Waterbury. He turned out to be a real solid guy as well and I had a great time hanging with him while he brewed up an American Brown Ale. It was a long day though, which started for me at 5:30 am and ended at 10pm, with a pant-load of beer having throughout. It was well worth it though as I learned a ton in just that one day, not only about brewing but also about how he started up his business from scratch and is now wildly successful, without ever having paid a second's thought to marketing or distribution; they don't send any of their beer out the front door, EVER. Complete control. It's good to know that passion, talent, and knowledge CAN equate to a successful business.

Yesterday saw temps in the 60's and the 3rd annual Bacon Eating Contest at AwesomeWood's tavern. This year, V actually competed! And she did quite well up there on that stage surrounded by a bunch of puffy, loud-mouthed, chowder-headed dudes. And she definitely won the crowd over, I think.
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That's the weekend wrap-up. It's Sunday, sunny, warm - and I am about to go out for a quick run. Next week might see a trip to Philadelphia for a brewery visit/job interview and possibly some partying (depending on if I can get anyone to come with me) seeing as how it's Philly Beer week. I'll keep you updated...

Peace,

-Wrence

And where the hell have I been?

Answer: Driving around in the back of a tiny Volkswagon with a ferocious hangover, towards the ends of buying bacon and witnessing an old friend's wedding.

That's pretty much it.

I don't know why, but I chose to start off my long holiday weekend by staying up until 5am drinking with the Greeks on friday night....er, Saturday morning, rather. So after being woken up subliminally by angry messages from the 'Bones, which I sensed were festering on my voice mail, I had approximately 75 seconds to dress myself & make coffee, and then drive nearly 5 hours to this place, home of the best bacon I've ever had the pleasure to shove into my craw. Seriously, it was torturous, but so worth it. Even though we basically drove all the way to my Dad's house in Saratoga, with my piss being timed and held perfectly at the ready, the 'Bones then surprises me by CONTINUING TO DRIVE an additional hour to get our pork on. Damn.

After finally arriving at the home of our Patriarch, my family immediately opens up beers; I choke down the bile which had crept into my throat, and excuse myself for more torture: a 2 mile run. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. But things just went downhill from there. It was a blur for the next 48 hours; there was drinking, there was youtube (my father's favorite new toy), there was lots of food, there were friends around that I hadn't seen in 4 or 5 years, there were people whose names I forgot, drinks I spilled on people/various pieces of furniture, and still a few more people whom I didn't even get a chance to see, and a severely painful mountain biking experience.

All in all, the wedding was dope, as far as weddings go. I am ALWAYS apprehensive going to a wedding, I know not why; but I always end up having shitloads of good times at them. This was certainly no exception. Timmy's rendition of "Easy Like Sunday Morning" during the reception was hands-down his best performance to date. I only pray that his tender vocal chords stay in condition for the next 60 years, in the unlikely event that I someday go through with such a ceremony myself. Extraordinarily unlikely.

I leave you with an appropriately blurry and red-faced photo of 'Wrence and the 'Bones, which pretty much says it all.



On to next weekend, where the talk around town (at least around the general 6-inch area surrounding me) is of home made sausages on the grille


And Russo, if you're reading this: Mother Fuckin Cheers Bro

'Wrence