My local alt weekly just printed its last issue, so I spent some time looking through the articles I wrote for their Barstool column from 2016 to 2018.

There’s the time I bemoaned Girl Scout Cookie-and-booze pairings then ironically came up with my own. The publisher was skeptical, at first, when I pitched the story idea in his office. We talked maybe 20 seconds before the clencher.

“Caramel deLites?” he asked. “Port,” I answered. The hardball journalist and former drinker/bartender was impressed.

Writing that column for Triad City Beat opened up opportunities to visit new local breweries, like Wise Man, on the first day; to learn all about the political and economic injustices of Big Beer; and to make connections that later served when I was editor of 1808: Greensboro’s Monthly.

In an early article, I said something about not being as innovative as Eric Ginsburg, the column’s previous writer, because I would never make my own craft beer — which I later went on to do.

That column was the reason I started this blog. I had so many beers I wanted to try and experiences I wanted to have that one column in an alt weekly wasn’t enough.

Someone once wrote a comment on this blog that has stuck with me for years. He was offended about what I said of amber beers, that it’s “is one of those styles that’s hard to wow.” I’ve never claimed that liking a particular alcohol is objective; I’ve always believed it’s subjective. Everyone likes and hates different things. I give my opinions whenever I write about booze, whether it’s here or in my old Barstool column.

If only I’d linked to my article about Portland, where I said beers (and, really, alcohol in general) will always be deliciously to taste. Even in a city known for its breweries, I found reasons to keep thinking of even better beers back home.

The Barstool article I’m proudest of, though, is “They Shall Know Me by My Barware.” I’m no longer a freelance writer, and sometimes I forget I have a way with words. But this story reminded me that I can be funny and pack a lot of details into a small space (though the barware collection has grown).

Farewell, Triad City Beat. I will pour one out for you metaphorically because no one should waste good wine.