Drinking Alone
The communal blogging exercise know as The Session makes a brief return today after being shelved two years ago. Alistair Reece sets the discussion up (“Basically, tell us where you are at”), and below, I knock it down. Be well, everyone—
Last night a group of college friends and I tuned into watch an old Portland Trailblazer game. A local station has been rebroadcasting these in lieu of live action. We all grab beers as we watch, and periodically someone will hold up a can so we can see what he’s drinking. This now counts as a session.
In fact, it counts as a good session. Old sports, remote friends, and whatever we happen to have in the fridge—it sounds dismal until you consider the alternative. A more common session these days involves me drinking a couple beers while watching Netflix. If I’m lucky, Sally joins me and we comment briefly on the beers we’re drinking between episodes. (Current interests: The Plot Against America on Amazon.)
Suffice it to say, as immersive drinking experiences go, this sucks. According to Nielsen, Americans are mostly buying large packs of familiar beer right now. Old flagships are back. This has everything to do with the loss of the kinds of sessions we enjoyed [checks notes] two months ago, which happened in pubs over pints of new releases we could discuss and share. In the absence of these experiences, the joy of exploration has mostly drained away. A huge element of discovery, it turns out, is sharing and discussing. Might as well enjoy a Black Butte Porter if we’re silently watching Game of Thrones For the third time.
Humans exist in a space between change and safety. We are creative, curious beings, and when we have full bellies and bank accounts, we can allow that generative urge to blossom. When things are dire, we revert to seeking the safety and comfort of the familiar, which salves our frazzled temperaments. That Black Butte Porter reaches a different part of our consciousness, the place hankering for reassurance amid a world with too much change.
And so it is with me. I’m about to make another order for deliveries, and I’m thinking something like comforting lagers from Wayfinder, Heater Allen, or Von Ebert may be on the docket—or maybe a case of Gigantic Kolschtastic. I see press releases of new and interesting beer and it piques my curiosity. When it comes time to start drinking, though—my mind turns to the comforting. Abstruse hoppy-sour thing or a good, old lager? Easy call.
One should not underestimate these gentle pleasures. Last night I sipped Zoiglhaus’s pilsner during the game, and each mouthful was like a moment of meditation, bringing calm and normalcy. The familiar soothes and heals, and that’s no small thing right now. It looks like this is going to last awhile, so I’m trying to get used to it.
That’s what things look like from my living room in Portland, Oregon this first day of May, 2020.
Program note: Patrick and I will be recording a podcast today, so look for that. Also, I’ll be posting a new Coronavirus Diaries entry on Monday—with what is shaping up to be some hopeful news. Also, I’ll continue with my “Making of a Classic” series. I’m thinking Anchor Steam, but I’m also open to suggestions. That’s a fun series and it gets my creative energy flowing, which is increasing hard to do.