I’ve started sampling Sainsbury’s ‘Taste the Difference’
range of beers. So far I’ve tried London Porter (which was a regular for a
couple of months, and almost certainly will be again once I’ve exhausted the
range,) Westmoreland Ale and Kentish Ale. Tonight I have Scottish India Pale
Ale to try, and here’s what I discovered by reading the label:
IPA is 5.9% ABV, whereas Westmoreland Ale is only 4%. Which
means that although you’re getting the same amount of beer for the same price,
you’re getting almost 50% more alcohol. That’s worth knowing, isn't it? And that’s
where we peasants score over the rich folks. Rich folks buy whatever they want whatever
it costs, whereas we peasants are more adept at getting value for money.
And that isn’t always true, of course, but I have to find
something to say on this blog. Shopping day used to be a rich source of odd
little bits and pieces, but Ashbourne has become oddly tedious of late.
Nil desperandum. Here are a couple more things that occurred
to me while I was listening to Enya singing China
Roses.
a) I still find it amazing that people who write music are
endlessly inventive. There are only so many notes in the standard chromatic
scale, right? And there are only so many possible variations on things like
rhythm, harmony and orchestration. So don’t we have to conclude that the range
of musical expression is ultimately finite? I wonder how long it will take to
get to the end.
b) I’m also intrigued by the extent to which getting close
to somebody can change us. I knew somebody once who seemed to want to get close
to me, but it didn’t happen. If it had, I wonder who she would be now. And, of
more personal interest, I wonder who I would be.
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