Back when my hairline wasn't closer to the top of my head than it is far away, I became a short-lived Michael Sarrazin movie fan. That's actually almost a complete and perfect lie except that it's incomplete and flawed.
I only remember two movies he was in that I saw, The Reincarnation of Peter Proud, which was simply creepy, and a film he made with Jane Fonda, They Shoot Horses Don't They?
I was thinking of the latter movie the other day when my brother Adam shared this news item. He offered this observation on what might be perceived as a 'revolting development.' He's not too far off the mark. In much the same way as scientists believe that cockroaches will survive a nuclear holocaust, I've always believed they'll be showering in Bud because I cannot imagine what else you'd want to do with it.
I've never really held posers in high regard even when I struggled to be one, but there's some sort of cosmic justice in play here when a beer that stole its name from one from across the ocean and then outhustled and outmuscled it on these shores in terms of promotion, distribution and sales gets tripped up by boutique brews.
I'm thinking my chances of a pony ride for my birthday just improved quite dramatically because the pool of available equestrian transportation just expanded exponentially.
I'm puzzled as to the New in the new Bud (same as the old Bud?) especially its bouquet since I always thought the Clydesdales had as much to do with the taste as they did with the delivery.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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