We were the only people sitting out on the patio of Homer Brewing Company enjoying the uncharacteristically sunny day and a locally crafted brew. A man in a van held together more by rust than sheet metal pulled in to the parking lot, grabbed a growler of beer and a stainless-steel cup from the passenger seat, and walked to a nearby picnic table. His greasy wool fedora was pulled down over long, thinning grey hair, and the seat of his jeans sagged as if they fit much better 20 pounds ago. Although he grudgingly responded to Marcus’s greeting as he approached, he sat with his back to us, so we didn’t engage in further conversation.

About 20 minutes later, a spectacled man in pressed jeans, a tweed jacket, and a sporty wool cap, looking very much like a community college professor, approached him and shook his hand. “Did you bring the stuff?” The scruffier dude nodded his head and went to his van. He returned with two cases held together by duct tape. The Professor opened one and peered inside. A smile crossed his face. He reached in and gingerly pulled out a guitar. The Dude, making note of the Professor’s delight, pulled a mandolin out of the second case. The hand-cut leather strap was so worn multiple holes had been cut as previous ones had given way. “That one has seen some living,” the Professor commented. “I bought it new in the ’60s,” said the Dude, his hand stroking the neck. “I had to take out a loan to buy it.” They started tuning.

As if choreographed, vans, pickup trucks, and the occasional car started pulling into the parking lot. Out came tote bags full of tablecloths, jars of homemade pickles, boxes of crackers, and neatly sliced wedges of cheese. People bought beer from the brewery and trays of fresh Kachemak Bay oysters from a little shack at the far end of the patio. More musicians arrived: guitars, a bass fiddle, banjo, harmonica, and a microphone and amp. By now the Professor and the Dude were strumming away and singing in harmony. “Do you know San Antonio Rose?” asked the Dude. In reply, the Professor strummed a few chords. The Dude joined in, and the rest followed suit.

Just another Thursday afternoon in Homer!

brewery decor–pallet planter