Friday, April 8, 2011

G is for Guinness

Once upon a time I hated beer.  I just didn't like the taste of it, and to me Guinness was nothing more than beer concentrate.

Then I met guy named Troy.  He was outgoing, charismatic, and a good Irish boy.  I liked him a lot, but I honestly didn't know him that well.  We were scarcely more than acquaintances, but his death affected me greatly.  His heart gave out from a drug overdose.  From what I understand he passed almost instantly, just winked out of this world.  I never even considered any of the harder drugs after that.

Having been a fine Irish boy, he had a fine Irish wake.  Nearly everyone he ever knew was there.  It was a grand party.  We sang, we drank, we ate.  We told stories about our friend, and celebrated his life.  People went streaking.  I hid their clothes.

He had requested that at his wake, people float a keg of Guinness in his honor.  I disliked Guinness, but I liked my friend.  Cup after cup of it went into me.  When I thought that I could stomach no more of the vile stuff I took a deep breath, manned up, and drank some more.  I drank because I cared.  There was a point, somewhere in the drunken haze, that the taste of Guinness became forever linked to love.

So now whenever I drink a beer, it tastes a little bit like happiness.

Has something ever happened to seriously change your mind about something you felt strongly about?

P.S. - Sorry about the back-to-back serious posts.  It'll be lighter tomorrow, promise!

1 comment:

Adam Jones said...

Thank you so much! I have updated my About Page accordingly.

Post a Comment