Beer as Heritage in the Pacific Northwest
I’m visiting my family in Washington. I’ve only been at my mother’s house for about four hours, but I’m already reaching for a couple of beers. I take them from the outside fridge, and speed past barking dogs and bickering relatives to my mother’s deck. I close the sliding glass door and suddenly it’s quiet.......
(Insert Name of NWA Song Here)
I first heard about this on Sunday night, and wanted to write about it right then and there, but I’ve been in the process of moving. I’m aware that it’s gotten considerable press since then, but this is something that I feel very strongly about, so, as per usual lately, I’m going to laugh in...
Soapbox