Ah, Jared's Java. Pleasant taste. Slight Monsterism.

Welcome to the home of my mind, where I brew my intellectual and spiritual joe. Sit back and let me pour you a cup or two. I promise not to cut you off, even after you get the caffeine jitters.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

Sometimes in life, there's nothing you can do, except that which you don't want to do.  I find myself at such a crossroads.

Ten years ago, I knew a beer brewer who did quite well for himself.  He was making in the neighborhood of $150,000.  And he was just employed by a place.  Given, he had some other contracts he was brewing for in addition to the place that hired him, he was still making beer and doing well for himself.

I've come to learn, quite disturbingly, that the average brewer can only expect to make about $30,000 a year today.  There is a glut of brewers who want jobs, and they've slashed salaries in accordance with the demand of those who want to brew.  In some parts of the country, you can live okay on $30,000, but not in the Pacific Northwest.

So, unless I can find a way to become an owner/proprietor of a brewery or brew pub, I'm shit out o' luck on my dream.  That brings me more pain than I can express.  Actually, I feel more numb than anything else, right now.  God's mercy on me to keep me from slipping off the deep end, I guess.  However, there's a deep hurt in there.

So, I've dropped out of my spot in the American Brewer's Guild.  I don't need any more debt that I can't afford to repay.  I need a job, and fast.

Eventually, I figure out something I can do that's in the beer/wine industry.  Maybe sales, or being a sommelier/wine steward for some place.  Who knows?  I'm too numb and angry/hurt to give a shit.

God is as good today as He was six months ago, as He will be six months from now.  That's the only reality I have to hold onto.


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