See…that cilantro idea sounded interesting—I just couldn’t taste it. Or the mango. Or the lime. The lactose, however, had an interesting effect. It softened the sour flavor, giving the beer a smooth finish that was almost creamy. This was the first of two beers I had on the first of three days in a row that I stopped at Loom on my way home from the old juke joint—and I wish that I could stop at Loom every day to drink two beers and write for an hour. That’s always a good hour, and when you get three of them in a row, you get on kind of a roll, the way interest compounds in a bank account. You come to a stopping point in the section about the birth of the Chatterbox and Mass Ave, and you come back around to the section about the painter living in a trailer in the desert. She has to allow a wolf to bite her, so that she can bleed, and finish her canvas. The last pass wasn’t very good, so there’s a lot of revision to be done; and you’d really like to be at Loom for that fourth day in a row.
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