You See, Mr Beer 'N Hockey....You've Really Had A Wonderful Life.

AChristmasCardNotQuiteFrom
MinneapolisVille


I have been reading Mr. Beer 'N Hockey's musings for a long time now.

For many a good reason.

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Here is a couplet from one of his latest:

I go on vacation
Then I go back to the f*cking mill...


In the missive under consideration, which appears to have been written at the end of Beer's latest pre-Christmas trip to Mexico, this little ditty is repeated over and over and over and over again.

Then, finally, he finishes with the following:

...Then I am going to die, motherf*ckers.


Which, I'm pretty sure, says something about how important it is to keep on keeping on while putting one front in front of the other.

The only thing is, Beer left out a whole heckuva lot.

Including his crazy Hockey family.

And all his crazier friends.

And all his trips to the track, here there and over the mountains everywhere - the more out-of-the-way the better.

And his first aid sprints to the rescue of all those who need it.

And The Clash at the Garden in 1980.

And all his dogs, named Hammer or otherwise.

And all the walks along the River and all those kids, 'n punks, and junkies 'n homeless bumped into almost always with a satisfactory result.

And Sonja.

And all his flying Captains Courageous Brothers.

And Roller Derby.

And the Guiding (Bertuzzi) Principle.

And never appeasing Fascists while always appeasing Martians (just because).

And music on the stereo.

And/or by the campfire...

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*Newly re-mixed cacophonous version...


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