Wow, as I'm sitting here in Istanbul writing out my blog, I came to the horrid realization that the following didn't post! I'm so sorry about that dear readers. Please excuse this slight deviation from the Turkey plot.
Due to a slight miscommunication between my blogger profile and me, I accidently deleted last night's intended post...And that's why I should stick to hand writing everything. SO to spare my hands of typing too much, I spread out writing this piece into last night and this morning.
On a slightyly different note, I just returned from my orientation for the big Turkey trip that is coming up next week! Can you believe it? The time has come so fast. In the orientation we learned about the itinerary and about the different items we will likely need. I'm getting more excited by the day and now after the orientation it finally feels real. None of this would have been possible without the support of my friends, family and network! Thank you all so very mch for belieiving in the cause of citizen diplomacy! I will be blogging and posting updates from Turkey, so please keep your eye on the Weekly Read over the next few weeks!
Speaking of the Weekly Read - ready or not, here comes the exciting concluding chapter of Rodger's tale!
Craft Brew Caper, Part V
The story that Roger produced was a stretch to believe. However, not a trace of beer influenced this man's tail. If there were any truth to be found in this world, it was reflected in the light of Rodger's eyes. The story was far too grand for the head security guard Dennis. He told Rodger to hold on for a moment while he fetched the powers that were.
"Sir," Dennis respectfully called to the brewery master, the owner of Hornblower brewery.
"What is it now, Dennis," the stout middle aged Jack Pilot asked as he swiveled his chair around to face a senior employee. Though Dennis was not one to waste the time of another man with the doldrums of his post, the cigar between Jack's fingers was particularly fine and deserved attention.
"I've got a guy downstairs that you will not believe," he shared not bothering to take a seat. The man with the dog seem to deserve all the time available. "I really think you should hear what he has to say."
"Dennis, I'd prefer to not be disturbed by the drunken flimflam rambles of our clients, however dear to us they are." Jack said as he took a long drag from his cigar.
"I respect that sir, but this guy, he isn't a standard sipper." The tone that Dennis used was one that Jack had not yet heard. Keeping the end of the rich cigar between his lips, Jack mumbled, "Alright, alright. You win. But this guy gets two minutes. Tops."
Those two minutes became twenty minutes, which quickly grew to two hours. The plot that Rodger conveyed was not only one worth listening to, it was one worth seeing through.
All of the work that Rodger had put into this Friday night's event was finally coming together. As the commotion at the judge's table concerning the to-be-named Golden Hopp winner arose, Rodger inhaled deeply to appreciate how fortunate his life had turned.
The head of ceremonies at the Crown Ball cleared his throught and nervously said over the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, a moment more of your patience, if you please."
There was confusion among the judges draped in black robes at their elevated table. It would not take them long before sorting out the unexpected anomaly that had occured right under their noses. The tasting had been blind until the final decision of the winner was reached, and now that the judges were aware of the identity of the brew, they were confounded and confused. Nothing like this had ever happened before. They did not yet know what to do.
The delay caused the crowd to stir. People began to whisper among themselves generating ideas of what happened and guessing at the possible scandal.
Rodger spoke to no one. He watched the beautiful Wilhemena standing in her group of fellow black boots from their brewery Sir Hops A lot. There was a line of excitement about her features, but directly beneath that was a hint of loneliness. The idea that she felt in the slightest out of place or without company even though she was surrounded by colleagues hit Rodger like a clapper to a bell. He could not stand for this.
The judges began to make their conclusion as to what was to be done with this delightful anomaly and Rodger made his way through the crowd. Rodger cut through the people too entwined in their conversations about what was happening to notice his presence splitting through theirs at all. His world was mute to their gossiping clucks. All he could hear was the rushing beat of his heart. This was what his dying soul needed most.
"Wilhemena," Rodger heard his voice say to her shoulder.
The men in her group looked at Rodger with raised eyebrows and cocky foreboding stares. But Wilhemena turned to the call of her name with a soft and curous expression, which lightened upon seeing Rodger's face.
The slight transformation of her gaze that only Rodger noticed filled his soul with the fire he needed to say, "Wilhemena, no matter what happens tonight, I want you to know that to me, you are the most beautiful girl in the world."
Before Wilhemena could build a response to the complement and before the other black boots could heave snide reactions out from their shock, Rodger slipped away. The cloud that he was floating upon was far too pleasant to be spoiled by the men in her company.
"Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, if you please, gather 'round," the head ofceremonies called out above the crowd. A series of "shooshes" echoed throughout the hall as people quickly quieted to hear what had been decided. "We have an extra special delight here tonight folks, an extra special delight indeed!"
Rodger resumed his hiding place where he could see everything. And though most eyes were locked on the stage and the presiding announcer, Rodger continued to watch Wilhemena. Much to his delight, while the majority of her attention was on the raised stage, her eyes would dart here and there throughout the room. She was looking for him.
"Would the brew masters of Hornblower and Sir Hops A lot join us up here, please," the announcer called.
A strong look of confidence filled the being of Tony Alessi as he walked forward to take his place by the stage. He thought at last his time had come to be recognized against the formidable talents of his cousin, the owner of Hornblower. Jack Pilot too had a certain look about him because he had a fair idea of what was to come.
"Thank you gentlemen for coming forward and for bringing to us something that will likely never be forgotten," the master of ceremonies said proudly. He was pleased that something so momentous would occur under his jurisdiction. "Ladies and gentlemen, due to the profound ingenuity of these two brew masters, we have a first here at the Crown Ball, one which will certainly go down in history." Turning to the table to grab his stein full of the best beer ever tasted, the head of ceremonies raised the glass high above his head to toast this spectacular feat. "Ladies and gentlen, I present to you the talents of Mr. Alessi and of Mr. Pilot - the spiced ale, Culmination-U. Congratulations gentlemen, your brilliant mixer of flavors will proudly wear the Golden Hopps award!"
The crowd was mostly silent from bewilderment. They could not understand what had happened. Never before had a mixer been entered, and none would have ever before thought to blend two styles of beer from two different breweries. And that the two biggest rival breweries would come together to make a Golden Hopp award winning beer only added to the reasons for peoples' mouths to be agape.
"What?!" Alessi asked, flabergasted from the whole scenario. With an exception of a handful of black boots from Hornblower, all the other members of the two boasted brewing groups were equally as astounded. The small team that Jack had enlisted from his staff to help see Rodger's team through glowed with pride knowing that they had hands in this historical event.
"Y-yes," Jack started, patting Alessi on the back, hoping to cover before Tony ruined the beer that represented everything good. Turning to the crowd, Jack explained Rodger's plot just like they had rehearsed; "The Cumination-U represents the ingenuity of both our breweries and the brining together of old rivals into one unified beer. Culmination-U is the product of good hearted, hard working people who depend on each other to make award winning beer. And that is why both my brewery and Alessi's will be serving Culmination-U as our regular pours, representing the goodness of both our teams, and of the broader fellowship that exists here in our island. None of our achievements would be at all possible without every man and woman what calls himself a citizen here. We have our differences, our different positions, different styles, whatever they may be, may Culmination-U be the daily sipped, hopefully daily, reminder that here on our island, we are united by our crafts."
That was exactly it. The message that Rodger had been hoping to get across this whole time. Any enterprise had a team worth recognizing and particularly here on his home-island where position and title determined one's status in society. The mix and label that he had designed for this beer sought to keep the people in all tiers of their island in everyone's hearts and minds.
The largest smile Rodger had ever before borne in his life lighted his face, but it was not from the glory of his triumphantly successful plot. In his distraction of watching the frustrations of his employer being hidden behind a mask of stymied pride in a beer that he had no idea was his own, something wonderful had occured. Standing sweetly at his side was the beautiful Wilhemena. She too was pleased that her brewery had somehow become involved in this incredible, albeit secret, alliance, but there was a greater victory or her tonight. The man that she had secretly admired from afar since the day she saw him had admitted that his heart also longed for her.
"Rodger," she called to him sweetly. The cheers and claps of the crowd in the Crown Ball room could not have been loud enough to have stifled her voice to Rodger's ears. "Would you care to dance with me?"
A laugh of disbelief and of utter hope escaped from Rodger. This night had turned far better than he ever could have planned. "Oh yes, Wilhemena," he answered as his trembling hand took hers for the first time. "Tonight, and any other night that you please."
As Culmination-U was distributed to the crowds, met with nothing but delight from the tasters, Rodger and Wilhemena danced to the tune they created. The pair swung together sweetly on their very own euphoric cloud. As Rodger held her for the first time, he reflected on that depressing visit to his physician when the doctor told him, "I'm sorry, you're dying. If you don't do something significant with your life, your soul will simply give up on you." His body had been in perfect health this whole time, but the lack of change, excitement and love were killing him.
However, tonight, as everyone raised their glasses to toast the brilliant message of his creation, the Culmination-U, and as he danced with Wilhemena, Rodger's enlightened soul came to see that this indeed was the night his soul had been living for.
End
I certainly hope you all enjoyed the exciting adventure of Rodger! If you have a glass of a golden brew or of a chocolatey stout in hand, feel free to raise it to the message of Culmination-U!
See you all next week at the begining of our traveling adventures in Turkey! I've got a lot of packing and preparing to do!
Your humble author,
S. Faxon
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