The human mind is a strange thing.  I bet the title of the post got you singing or thinking about Chuck Berry.  Isn’t it strange how we learn to associate one thing with another?  Almost instinctively, who we are comes out…sometimes when we least expect it.  I was driving through Pasadena with my wife this morning, and I saw an Indiana license plate, which I immediately recognized.  As I approached, I realized that it was from the exact county where I lived for most of my life.  In an instant I was missing “home” and my family.  I thought about my parents, my brother, sister, niece and Max (my parent’s dog).  All that came flooding back to me in a moment.  Did I subconscieniously miss home?  I wasn’t in any particular frame of mind of already missing home.  But it was raining, which is somewhat rare in Pasadena, and I tend to be more contemplative during those times.

Memories got me thinking.  I love the weather here.  It’s not cold or snowing.  There are mountains.  It’s sunny most of the time.  I can get to the ocean in less than an hour.  But for some reason, I miss the flat ground in Indiana.  I miss the snow and cold.  More specifically, I miss the wood stove.  Sitting by it, drinking some hot chocolate.  Petting Max.  Of course, I’m going to tie beer into this discussion.

There are all sorts of new and exciting beers around California.  Some would argue that this is Mecca for beer.  I really can get some coveted brews.  Like the warm winter, some of you may be coveting some of the beer I can get (and vice versa).  Yet, sometimes, as Dorothy says, “There’s no place like home.”  I got thinking about Three Floyds (one of the top breweries in the U.S.), Dark Horse, Bell’s, Founders, Brugge, Upland or any number of good brews that I could easily obtain in Indiana.  I simply began casting aside some of the glamor here for the simplicity of home.  Of course, this is somewhat context dependent.  The list I noted above may be glamorous or commonplace, depending on where you are.  But, for me, in this moment, there’s no place like home.  I’d love to be able to take a Three Floyds beer for granted right now.  Metaphorically, where is “home” for you when it comes to beer?  We’d love to know.