Tales of the Keg

It’s not always about the beer

Saturday, April 11th, 2009

You’re not going to find fancy-pants beers at the New Boston Tavern. No Dogfish. No Sierra Nevada. No Rouge. No Magic Hat.
None were in evidence the recent afternoon I spent at the establishment, which is perched on the shoulder of Indiana 545 in Spencer County in the extreme southern reaches of the state. I didn’t hear anyone bitching about it, either.


Dizzy Dean and me

Saturday, March 28th, 2009

The first beer I drank was probably a Falstaff. I say “probably” because there’s been a lot of suds under the bridge since then. I could be mistaken.
However, Falstaff certainly was one of my earliest favorites. It was a light, nonassertive brew, sort of like water filtered through a loaf of stale bread. … No wait. [...]


Leprechaun memories

Monday, March 16th, 2009

St. Patrick’s Day has been my favorite day of the year ever since I got old enough to quit getting cool stuff for Christmas.
I used to take off work the whole week, both to prepare and to recover. I insisted on starting early in the afternoon of the day itself; I wanted to be installed somewhere before the [...]