Drowned By Dribblings
By one definition, perhaps the only one that matters, there are two kinds of people in this world: Those who finish their beverages down to the last drop and those who always leave some behind.
I’m the former. “Never leave a beverage behind,” I’m pretty damn famous for saying.
Some, however, fall for that old wives’ tale that beverage enjoyment abates the deeper you get. Hogwash!
That first icy cold blast of Pepsi or Coke or beer is sublime goodness, right? On the other hand, that pathetic last half inch leftover at the bottom isn’t worth the backwashed-spit that now comprises 42% of its volume.
I guess the big question is this: Are all of those partially-filled glasses left lying around the house “half empty” or “half full?” The correct answer, of course, is: “Who gives a shit? Clean that crap up!”
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Tom the Half-a-Life
Half a beer, philosophically, must ipso facto half not be. But half the beer has got to be, vis-à-vis its liquidity – d’you see? But can o’ beer be said to be or not to be an entire beer when half the beer is not a beer, due to some recent imbibery?
Positive? Negative? Is the beer mug half full or half empty? Beer isn’t just something that you drink. It’s something that you do.
I thought I knew beer. It was something I drank once in a while. Nothing special, nothing to write home about. But then I moved to Portland, Oregon, the microbrew capital of the world.
In July 2011, representatives from the Oregon Brewers Festival declared Portland had 40 microbreweries located within the city limits, more than any city in the world and greater than one-third of the state total.
Suddenly I was awash in the stuff. I was drinking a “pint” almost every day of my life. Sometimes more.
Sure, it was nice. The formula is simple:
More Beer = The Good
There was, however, a problem. A big problem. (Surprised?) I don’t like generating cans and bottles. For one thing, in Oregon, you pay a five cent tithe per container. For another, you gots to lug ’em around and shit. And I despise going back to the euphemistically-named “redemption centers” to get those nickels back. Unless you love hacking and slashing your way through a literal jungle of flies with your handy machete. So we’d end up just tossing the empties in the recycling bin, essentially a cash donation to The State. For some reason that gnawed at the very fiber of my existence.
Then, by chance, it happened. I learned of something called The Growler.
It was at that moment I learned that I had been living only half a life. (Prior to that I was merely radioactive.) As is often my wont, I celebrated by bursting into song…
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Back that glass up
Props go out to The Reluctant Optimist blog for inspiring this post.
We’ve all heard about this accursed hypothetical glass. Some evil miscreant apparently put liquid in and filled it exactly to the fifty percent capacity level. What nefarious purpose was behind that I can only guess. 🙂
Today’s question:
What are the funnest, funniest or most interesting responses you’ve ever heard to the question: “Is the glass half empty or half full?” If you got nothing, then you can just let us know how you see it.
My personal favorite response has always been, “Neither. I just want to know how big will the spill be when the glass has tipped over!”
Chortle. Whatever. Meh.
In his header image, however, The Reluctant Optimist provides a response that improves on my favorite quite nicely, I think. “The glass can be half empty or half full … as long as there is whiskey in it.”
Whiskey! Hella. Nicely done! I wish I had thought of that. 🙂
Just for giggles I tried the question on our temporary worker. She said, “half full.” So you are an optimist, I replied. “No,” she said. “That’s just how full it is.” Eh? Turns out she didn’t grok the question. She’d never heard the optimism/pessimism angle in regards to that question before. She seriously thought I wanted to know if a hypothetical glass was half full?? LOLZ!
Anyway, please reply to this post with any other responses you may have heard or simply give us your take on this age old question. Just don’t try to tell me anything about a chicken and an egg being able to fit in that glass. I won’t fall for it!
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