And that’s the truth. I’ve been drinking dark beers since 7:00 a.m. across the river in Indiana, for the opening of the Gravity Head beer festival. The whole morning I’ve been surrounded by hipsters in long beards, ball caps and “Liver Olympics 2014” t-shirts. One seriously pierced beer dude from Indianapolis was sporting knuckle tattoos à la Night of the Hunter, only instead of “love” and “hate” across his fingers the letters spelled “malt” and “hops”. That’s not a joke.
And if you’ve never seen Night of the Hunter I strongly encourage it. It’s one of Robert Mitchum’s best, also the only movie Charles Laughton ever directed. After the studio honchos saw Night of the Hunter they took away the car keys forever. No way Charles, not again. See it, you won’t be disappointed.
But I do digress. I’ll try to get my pies made today, I really will, but right now I need a nap. Crikey, I probably shouldn’t have driven home.
UPDATE: Can I add: will the hop craze ever stop? IPA mania is driving me nuts. I guess it’s human nature to over-do things: if a hatful of hops is good for a vat of beer, and a bucket full of them is better, then a dump truck full must be best of all. Meanwhile your glass of ale tastes like Chanel No. 19 Poudré. Enough I say!