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Please bear with me for a moment while I unload. I work a very strange job with a very strict deadline. Wednesday is the big day of the week. I have to crank out material late Tuesday and very early Wednesday, and then crank full steam all that day, just to keep up. My point being that all my focus and energy must be on my work at that time.

Unfortunately, this past Tuesday, with a workload that would choke the average Joe, I had the misfortune of accidentally seeing a recipe for a bacon-wrapped grilled cheese sandwich, which I could not get out of my brainpan and wanted to make for my dinner, even though I had a boatload of work to wade through. It seemed like a good idea – wrap a grilled cheese in two layers of bacon and cook. But I chickened out, fearful that my work would be interrupted by a sudden gut ache from poisonous bacteria that leaked into the raw bacon-wrapped white bread. I wanted that sandwich. I tried to convince myself it would work, even though I knew in my heart that it would not and I would have wasted important time and possibly poisoned myself.

So I just had a grilled a cheese sandwich and kept working. But tonight, after deadline, I still have that damned bacon-wrapped grilled cheese on my brain, but also still had the fear that it would kill me. So, instead, I baked some bacon slices in the over while toasting two slices of English muffin bread and melting some Renard’s basil/tomato cheddar cheese on a couple of vegetarian burger patties. Then I slathered some honey mustard and ketchup on the toasted bread slices, placed two big forkfuls of an artisan sauerkraut fermented with dill pickles, piled everything on and packed it down to eating size.

I am here to tell you that with the first bite, I forgot about the bacon-wrapped grilled cheese sandwich. Yumdillyicious! So, magic fridge, what do you suggest I drink with this awesome sandwich? I am not going to mention what magic fridge suggested. Even though it was a very good suggestion, I had to say no. No magic fridge, that chocolate imperial hefeweizen is for another day. No, I don’t disrespect you. I just don’t think that is the right beer for this sandwich I’ve been thinking about for the past few days. “

I’m sorry, magic fridge, but this time I must override you,” I said as I replaced the beer not to be mentioned at this time, and then dug my hand in and pulled out a plum – Space Ace Oddity from O’so Brewing Co. of Plover, Wis. The aroma as soon as you start pouring into the glass is like a beautiful spring day. Floral. I know instantly from that heavenly, beckoning aroma that escapes from the bomber bottle that I was correct to pull rank on the magic fridge this time.

The golden color surprises me for a moment. Space Ace Oddity? I guess I expected a dark beer. And then it seeps into my exceedingly slow brain – Space Ace Oddity. The Thin White Duke. So I cued up some David Bowie, beginning with the ever-amazing “Space Oddity,” followed by, “Oh! You Pretty Things,” and, for a brief moment, everything fell into place. “I’m floating in a most peculiar way…I hope my spaceship knows which way to go.” Space Ace Oddity is a white IPA refermented in the bottle with the wild strain of yeast known as Brett. White and funky. Did I just describe the beer or Aladdin Sane? Don’t lean on me, man!