Brewery Stamps All Cops are Bastards on Cans

A fellow recently asked me if I would participate in online beer reviews.  There would be a paycheck attached.  I don’t drink whiskey (my only memory is something that would taste like a used sweat sock) and wine is like cough syrup.  I hated Formula 44 as a kid.  My mom would nearly fight me to take a teaspoonful.

I got in touch with the editor of a national beer magazine.  He’s a former broadcaster and the grandson of a Stroh’s distributor.  The editor gave me a long list of smaller breweries here in the Northwest.  It’s a good jumping off point. 

There is one beer I won’t be sampling.  From the Seattle area.  The brewery is stamping an acronym on the bottom of cans and it stands for “all cops are bastards”.  I’ll have you know; my grandparents had been married nearly four years when my dad was born.  There were times I believed he was a bit too much of a disciplinarian but you know something?  As I write this at almost 58-years-old, I’ve never even had a speeding ticket.

My old man’s time in law enforcement lasted only eight years but I grew up next door to a State Trooper.  In fact, when he and his wife were newly married, they shared a house with my parents and the trooper’s three kids and my parents three kids were all fast friends.  The Chief of Police was also a neighbor.  On cold or rainy days, he would load us all into a station wagon and drive us to and from school.  He often used the wagon on patrol!  Small towns were like that 50 to 60 years ago.

I can’t get my head around all of these nasty claims about police and after reading this weekend about a police officer being beaten with a skateboard, I’m hopeful the men and women of law enforcement be granted new rules of engagement.

As for the scoundrel in Washington State, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I ever drink what he bottles and cans.  Speaking of hell, I suspect it’s where he’ll burn.  Forever.