I was telling the kids about my first taste of beer. I was about eight years old and this was in the mid-sixties. My dad and his buddies would smoke Marlboros and drink Coors while they worked on car engines. I never was interested in torque wrenches, timing lights or setting the dwell, but I sure did wonder what was so great about beer. One evening I got my chance. My dad handed me an empty can and told me to throw it away. Ever the dutiful son, I walked up the driveway and around the corner to the back of the house where the trash can was. The can felt like it still had a little bit in it. The second I was out of sight I tipped that can up and poured cigarette and ash laden beer into my mouth.
I didn't drink beer for a long time after that.
Foggy Morning Commute
2 weeks ago