We recently came across a a cheap beer made from adjuncts masquerading as a craft beer. Tired, hot, and hungry, we had burritos in the car, a motel room where we planned to eat them, and a drug store open across the parking lot. In the coolers, a $3 six-pack of Big Flats beckoned. At that price, who did Big Flats think it was fooling? But I still bought it. And the taste? Think Schaefer, Black Label, Rainier. It was cold, though, and went fine with take out Mexican following a hike with the cactus. Everything has its place, even cheap beer.

 

 

C and I are starting our own masquerade. We're pretending to be a man and woman of leisure. It started last week, when we walked out of work, vowing never to return, or, rather, not to return until three months had passed. We went home and drank champagne. And then I went back to the office the next day and put in another full day of work trying to tie up loose ends.

So, it was a slow start. But we filled the day after that with chores at home, bread and wine at Crush, and a flight out of state. Now we're decompressing in Reno, Nevada, because any leave of absence should start in the Biggest Little City. Later we leave for Europe. Sometime after that we come back from Europe. Eventually, we return to the lives we left last week.

A Yosemite climber once recognized that “at either end of the social spectrum there lies a leisure class.”  I'm not sure which end we are aiming for, but definitely hoping for leisure. We should have periodic updates here.  In the meantime, I'll keep my eyes out for some Big Flats here in Reno.  It should balance the champagne out, averaging us out somewhere in the middle of the social spectrum.