Ever wonder what it’s really like to be a craft brewer? Mike Boden, our head brewer, will be periodically sharing his thoughts on whatever is popping up at the brewery. In the first installment, see how the coolest job around can sometimes take you out into the cold.
So it’s the night before Snowmaggedon in Lincoln, NE – yes, it’s really happening this time because a guy I know from Nova Scotia tipped me off – and I’m sitting in my comfy, leather chair in my cozy, warm house thinking very seriously about something ridiculous.
They say the snow should start late tonight and continue well into tomorrow afternoon with high winds and low visibility. Sounds fun, right? Maybe if you’re my teenager hoping to get the day off of school, or if you work in a profession where things can always be done another day, but not in my line of work. Especially not when you have an already tight schedule with no room for error. So this thing I’m thinking about, and further convincing myself of, is that I should stay the night at the brewery.
It makes sense. I don’t need to worry about whether I’ll be able to plow my way through the mountains of drifting snow to get there in the morning, I won’t need to bother removing piles of frozen crystals from my vehicle, and I will absolutely be able to do the job that needs to be done if I’m already there when I wake up. Well, that is if nothing else goes wrong, but let’s stay positive. The only real problem, perhaps, is that I’m at home in my comfy chair about ready to start a fire, for which I spent the last hour splitting wood, and I have a delicious dinner prepared by my lovely wife waiting for me. Now why would I ever want to leave my warm, sheltered den?
Am I really that driven to achieve? No, that’s not me.
Am I concerned about letting my employers and coworkers down? Hell no: they told me to stay home!
Do I love beer that much? Well maybe, or at least we might be getting closer to the mark.
I guess I would have to say that I feel a responsibility to the beer. Without me and my cohorts, it doesn’t get made. Then, this terrible consequence happens: it also won’t get drank. That’s right, I was an English major, whatcha wanna do about it? At least I know I’m incorrect and that should somehow be better right? Well, enough of this. Tonight I’m camping out and I probably won’t get any sleep and I might drink too much good beer and wake up with a hangover, but at least the beer will be made and that’s what really matters.