today was my second day teaching at a junior college three towns away. i will be teaching a 3 hour reading class every afternoon for the next month. three towns away. a 45 minute drive through texas farm and cattle land.
a phenomenal amount of activity happens in this small stretch of texas highway. down around a bend near bryan, texas the US department of agriculture houses a pecan regeneration station. then down around another bend, independence, texas curates the texas baptist history museum. and then, once more, down on around that other bend the antique rose emporium sells a particular strand of roses whose roots thrive in clay. a bit further towards the school, there's a patch of gravel that's been recently rolled back like stained carpet, leaving a pitch of dusty air and utility trucks that guide drivers back and forth over soot-like grey dirt. this construction adds nearly ten minutes to my drive towards class. the construction workers are cleaned up and drinking lagers by the time i head back home over 45 minutes of livestock and mutant roses and baptist heritage and military pecans.
drinking lagers. that's nearly all i think about driving home. oh look, there's a grey cow mounting a brown cow. (drink a lager.) oh look, a fat man in a blue and red plaid shirt is buying roses. (drink a lager.) oh why the hell won't the cd player eject? (drink a lager.) should i flunk the one kid in the skull cap on principle alone? (drink a lager.)
tonight i'm drinking a lager i purchased from a liquor store four blocks away from my house. i stop by nearly every afternoon to purchase a single bottle of whatever is on the $0.99 rack. it's my way of trying new beers and building relationships with the townsfolks. who are the people in your neighborhood? cody sells me the beers, he studies algebra. the other dude in the glasses, who i refuse to ask his name because sometimes a little mystery makes everyone more beautiful, is the movie buff who runs the joint. and i think about these fellars on the drive back into town. and i speak swell things over them and their endeavors and their parents and cody's algebra. and then i show up and buy my lager: the punctuation point to the long and arduous day driving past cattle to drive more cattle.
perhaps i should tip a hat towards the lager: the reason we are all here in the first place.
this here is the steam engine lager by steamworks brewing company. they have two locations: durango, california and bayfield, colorado. seems a bit like cheating, like a bivocational minister who still takes personal funds from the church offering. but steamworks made this lager fancy and good. these malts stretch out a thick caramel underlay that props up a vibrantly flickering hop marquee. bright. bubbling with pop and flare. flashy on the side bars of the tongue. i like this beer. one time i drank an entire six pack of this stuff. started at noon. lost my tastebuds about three. finished it off in the evening. that was a long time ago. i've already confessed that to the necessary brethren, so now it's just bragging. point is: i like this lager better than i didn't remember.
that's all i want to say for now.