Authentic Oktoberfest

I throw keg parties. I list microbrew tasting as a hobby. My default birthday gift for my friends is a six-pack of their favorite beer (or my favorite beer if they have an under-developed palate).

As a lover of all things beer, four days in Munich for Oktoberfest 2007 is the highlight of my imbibing career.

Just what you’d expect from the Germans, Oktoberfest is a well orchestrated festival embraced by the entire city and all of Bavaria. It’s a giant party sponsored by the city! It’s like throwing a raging house party, where the entire neighborhood shows up and the local cops work the door. Oh, and I should mention, this raging house party has really, really good beer.

I drink side-by-side with the Munich locals dressed in lederhosen and dirndl, the authentic Bavarian attire. We raise our liters of beer, prost (German for cheers) and drink. Surrounded by people that love beer as much as I do, I fall in love with the city of Munich. After three liters, what’s not to love?

Oktoberfest is celebrated all over the world this time of year. And by all means, partake. Partake and be merry. But know this:

Nothing beats the original.

Hello Summer

Hello Summer

The first Sunday of September, my friend Spencer and I pick up two bottles of chilled French rosé and head to Baker Beach in San Francisco’s Presidio. I laugh at Spencer for wearing swim trunks. It’s a rare day in San Francisco that gets warm enough to get in the water.

It turns out to be one of those days. By the time I pour my second glass, Spencer is in the water. Laying on the warm sand, a clear view of the Golden Gate Bridge, a glass of wine in hand… can it get any better?

It can. Into the water. Sans bathing suit.

Good at Life

Two years ago I made a self-discovery - I don’t have a comfort zone. If I’m comfortable, it means I’m bored and restless. I prefer chaos, adventure and randomness. However, I recently made another discovery - I need a comfort zone. Perhaps it doesn’t need to be a safe and familiar haven. Perhaps it’s not a single place at all. Maybe my comfort zone is the realm of new discoveries – a city view, a neighborhood café, the back roads, Boston in the fall or a new recipe.

Finding balance, nourishment and comfort in ordinary and extraordinary days, this is a record of my attempts to be Good at Life.