After eating a large meal of black beans and corn tortillas on 23rd in Portland, Kris, Josh, and I returned to the ‘Couv to a familiar haunt: Ben’s House. This was the location of many a high school drama party; Ben had a pool–a rare find in the Northwest. Granted these were fairly innocent pool parties…I wish I could say we at least skinny dipped, but there was none of that…Mostly we went there to burn off our teenage angst and energy. College would later corrupt us, but ten years ago we were content to somersaulting off the diving board, cans of Shasta, and games of chicken. Sadly, the pool was covered, and in its place is a fabulous green lawn. Ben lives in LA now, but the remains of my high school friends try to regroup every Christmas. We were a powerful posse, we drama, Knowledge-Bowl playing, new-waver, Doc Martin wearing (before they were cool), suitably grungy, theater kids:

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Ben’s hair hasn’t changed….but brewing his own beer is a new thing! However, I opted for his homemade, spiced, wine-like concoction he entitled “Christmas” (in a cup).

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Josh really enjoyed Ben’s homemade beer. It’s hard to read, but his mug inquires: What’s Brewin?

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Ben’s longtime lady-friend, Missy, holding their little dog. Later on, Missy and Ben invited us to jaunt on over to LA for a visit–maybe even attend their legendary, annual, St. Patrick’s Day part-ay! We were very intrigued.