Author: Williams, Dave

Flights of Fantasy in a Dark Winter World
 

I found this passage on a wall hanging in the Redhook Brewery in Woodinville, WA (Seattle) describing the qualities of a writer and somehow relating it to brewing beer. Actually, this passage was hung in multiple spots in the brewery and the connected pub.

A Writer' Gift —"a certain kind of intelligence, not the mathematician’s or the philosopher’s but the storyteller’s—an intelligence no less subtle than the mathematician’s or the philosopher’s but not so easily recognized. Like other kinds of intelligence, the storyteller’s is partly natural, partly trained. It is composed of several qualities, most of which, in normal people, are signs of either immaturity or incivility: wit (a tendency to make irreverent connections); obstinacy and a tendency toward churlishness (a refusal to believe what all sensible people know is true); childishness (an apparent lack of mental focus and serious life purpose, a fondness for daydreaming and telling pointless lies, a lack of proper respect, mischievousness, an unseemly propensity for crying over nothing); a marked tendency toward oral or anal fixation or both (the oral manifested by excessive eating, drinking, smoking, and chattering; the anal by nervous cleanliness and neatness coupled with a weird fascination with dirty jokes); remarkable powers of eidetic recall, or visual memory (a usual feature of early adolescence and mental retardation); a strange admixture of shameless playfulness and embarrassing earnestness, the latter often heightened by irrationally intense feelings for or against religion; patience like a cat’s; a criminal streak of cunning; psychological instability; recklessness, impulsiveness, and improvidence; and finally, an inexplicable and incurable addiction to stories, written or oral, bad or good. Not all writers have exactly these same virtues, of course. Occasionally one finds one who is not abnormally improvident.”
Excerpt From: Gardner, John. “On Becoming a Novelist.” Open Road Integrated Media, 2010-08-06.

I am not saying I’m a writer, but a guy can have aspirations can’t he. By my own accounting I have most of these traits, so it seems I have met the prerequisites. I’ll need to continue working on my skills though.

I happened on this wall hanging on a “tour” of the brewery. The tour consists of going into a second story room with windows on three sides overlooking the brewery. The fourth side is a bar with eight or nine beer taps. The tour guide (bartender) pours a beer for everyone and then, in an engaging and entertaining way, discusses the operations of the brewery, sharing all kinds of numbers and statistics on volumes and cases, etc. and gives a cursory spiel on how beer is made. As you might expect, there are strategic breaks in his banter that are filled with more beer pours and the “tour” continues until we have tasted them all.

How does this relate to bluegrass, I know your asking? Well at the end of the tour, I broke out my “Kay Backpackers Upright Bass” (I never leave home without it anymore. I really like how well it travels in the cheap seats of airplanes, fitting very nicely in the “shared storage space” of the overhead bins). Then Linda opened up her mandolin case and we began picking for the after tour drinking crowd. A few fiddle tunes and some high singing from Linda and the crowd was eating it up. Our tour guide finally stopped us as they needed to clear the “tour room” for the next group.

I guess we did okay as they offered us a gig playing for the tours on a regular basis. Told us we could fill in the band as we needed (except for banjos, apparently they had some bad experiences in the past). The money was only fair but the offer included all the beer we could drink (and carry).

Obviously, I turned them down. It was Seattle after all. We were there for five dismal, dreary, dark, wet, windy and cold days. I didn’t know if it was Seattle or Alaska. Why isn’t there any daytime in this place? I can’t work in those conditions. If I was there another day who knows what could have happened…. but it wouldn’t have been pretty.

Anyway, the gig is still open for anyone foolhardy enough to want live there. Tell Dave, the tour guy from Ukiah that Dave, the backpacker bass guy from Mountain View sent you. That and a buck should get you your own brewery experience.

Disclaimer: The accounts of the Redhook Brewery experience above may or may not have happened. I am a little too crazy to tell. I need some sunshine badly.

Alright, I got the bluegrass content requirement covered so I can get back to the point.

I don’t know if the writers on these pages have all of the above mentioned qualities but I do know that, in my opinion, there are some very good writers in the bunch and I feel lucky and honored to get some of my work published alongside theirs. This is my twelfth 1st Thursday column and completes my first year in this fun gig and I thank Rick and the CBA for giving me the chance to have some fun with this.

I can hardly wait until next year to get going again. In a couple, two or three months it will be spring and the lunacy will lift. I just realized that I went a whole column without mentioning tequila. So it goes.

 
Posted:  12/6/2012



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