Fin du Monde

For years I refused to drink beer, any beer, awful stuff to my taste. When I did, though, rare as it was, it was only to “fit in” – and to avoid snide and unflattering remarks from friends when I didn’t.. Beer has a long history reaching back to the days of the pharoahs. Even the artisans who built the pyramids were provided the brew (besides a variety of other provisions), and look what they were able to accomplish! Some years ago a friend brought me a bottle of a Canadian beer with the eschatological name “Fin du Monde” – End of the World. An odd name for a beer, I think, but thought-provoking. Well, when I tasted it, my dislike for beer evaporated like drops of cold rain hitting a hot asphalt road! It tasted like no other beer I had ever tasted – slightly sweet, reminiscent of some subtle fruit – pear? – with a surprising titillating fizzy sensation. Now when I drink beer – as I am at the moment – it’s always Fin du Monde, savoring its delicate flavor and feeling quite good about myself, buoyant really, and a welcome change to my usual blah disposition: released like the tiny bubbles I am staring at rising so blithesome through its amber atmosphere, as I sit writing these lines – a not significant accomplishment, I admit, when compared to building a pyramid.