October is finally here and I couldn't be more pleased. I've always loved fall, and I'm particularly fond of the early part when there's drastically reduced chances of wet snow or dry turkey. As things start to drift along into November, fall's more liable to drop some family obligations or disastrous weather on you, but in these early post-summer days, no right-thinking man can help but smile at the moderate temperatures, reasonable daylight allocation, and dying leaves.
'hiram walker' on Serious Eats
Draft beer and variety are two of my favorite things, but I generally avoid bars with too many taps, because I don't trust that the turnover's high enough to keep all the kegs fresh, and the sad fact is that a clean Miller Lite tastes better than a dirty anything.
In general my life is every bit as wrinkled and stained as you might imagine, but it's not for lack of planning. I'm not nearly as whimsical or spontaneous as a professional cinnamon schnapps reviewer ought to be.
I claim to like autumn, but the truth is I'd be perfectly happy with a dozen Julys a year. After a snowy October weekend of hermitism and the accidental introspection that creeps up on you after the seventh whiskey-and-I-think-there's-some-Sprite-in-there-or-maybe-sour-cream, I've come to the conclusion that I've never really liked the changing of the seasons except when they change into summer. I think I just say I like fall because so many of the rest of you do and I don't want to look like a grump all the time.