by Catherine Maven
Copyright © 2005
What is it that we need most in our life? What have we searched for,
suffered for, delighted in, lost or found ourselves in? That’s right! Beer!
First,
of course, we experienced "puppy-beer", that first taste of the
forbidden, the heady discovery of needs and desires in ourselves that mere pop
won’t quench. Puppy-beer is a bitter-sweet experience, the awkward satisfaction
of a nebulous wish. You’ll never forget your
first beer.
Then,
of course, the first flush of beer wears off, and you wonder what all the fuss
was about. It seems anyone can have a beer, and sharing a beer means less to
some people than to you. But when you try to give it up, when you try to go
back to the days-before-beer, you find you can't. Something in you has changed.
Beer had become a part of your life.
Then
you begin the search for your One True Beer. The beer that can’t be shared by
just any two people. The beer that will last you a lifetime. I know, some
people think that just one kind of beer will never satisfy them, and choose to
have several different beers at the same time, but they often just end up
confused. They may like one beer for one reason and another for another, but in
the end, the compromise may begin to feel like just that, a compromise.
Of course, there
may have been times when we think we've found our One True Beer, and committed ourselves
to it for life. And I’m sure you know people for whom that has really worked. But
personally, over the years, you might have found that the things you wanted and
needed from your beer changed; or the beer itself had somehow changed, tastes
different, or has lost the sharp flavour that drew you to it in the first
place.
We
also know that people sometimes adapt to the changes in themselves or in their
beer; but I believe that if a beer has become essentially dissatisfying, in
spite of our best intentions, it may be necessary to leave that beer behind and
go on with our search.
Maybe
you’ve thought at some point that you could live without beer; and couple of disappointments
may have made life without beer seem appealing. But after awhile, our
self-sufficiency palls, too. The thirst that sent us after beer in the first
place might have faded, but does not die, and substitutes, however
Calorie-Reduced, leave us with a vague feeling of Something Missing in our
life. So we must pluck up our courage
and our vulnerability, and start trying new beers. We might need to try alternative beers, new ways of finding beer that are outside our comfort zone. It’s scary, admittedly, but alive, too.
I
can’t imagine Life Without Beer. It is the highest thing two people can share. It
is never easy, but when you do find a satisfying beer, that first gulp of cool
bubbling vitality makes you glad you took the risk. Two people who offer beer
to one another are both giving and receiving joy. Through a shared beer, you
can learn to see the world in new ways, let go of preconceptions, and embrace
life.
I’ve found that
beer usually only disappoints when we expect too much from it, when we live for
beer instead of making beer a part of our life. Beer can’t solve our problems;
it can’t become a panacea against the hard realities of life. But the shared
beer can be an oasis for our thirst; a thing to enjoy together and build trust
and respect upon if we make it that.
Beer is our best hope for happiness.
So
remember. Share beer and be happy! (This
message has not been brought to you by your The Beer Store, but I may try to
sell it to them!).
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