Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Exaggerator

It's three days before our daughter's wedding, (No. Wait. Maybe it's four. . .) and my wife is a nervous wreck. She flits like a little hummingbird from one room of our house to another, picking up odd sorts of things to pack -- old pictures, glitter, boxfuls of silverware. As she flits, she has bumped into me twice or three times, each time startled to notice that I've come home from the errands I was on. Every so often now, she stops long enough to mumble in my direction a string of questions to which I don't know the answer. Watching her is exhausting, and it's starting to agitate my nerves out of sympathy for her. This beer helps.

This Iowa born dopplebock is rich and intense in every way, beginning already with the first whiff. I notice the smell of molasses and black licorice. Each thick swallow seems to show me new flavors: dark brown toast, a little chocolate and stewed prunes. The aroma, the flavor and the warm feeling running all the way down to my gullet combine to make my spot on the couch an oasis of peace amidst the chaos around me.


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