About five years ago, I was talking to a mate who was looking to get into craft brewing professionally and was struggling to come up with a name that wasn't either completely fucking shit or already in use.
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| Beers that never were |
Matt decided against a career in the beer business, possibly after learning that it mostly involved cleaning equipment, and Assassin Brewing was, alas, never to be.
To be honest, it's not something that particularly keeps me awake at night.
Well, not often.
In a few weeks time I shall be 45, and, unless there are some big developments in the health and fitness sector, this probably means that I am more than half way through my life.
That's a sobering thought in and of itself, but getting older pushes me more and more down the comfortable pipe of nostalgia where slightly melancholic memories hold more sway than the contemporary world.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all about trying new things. Drinking new beers, eating new foods, visiting new places - I largely measure my life by 'ticks' - but that doesn't mean I'm remotely comfortable when the old things disappear from the world.
And they don't even have to be that old.
