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.
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