Author: Kim du Toit

Pub Crawl Alert

Food & Drink

I hardly ever drink beer anymore, at least here in Murka, because at heart I’m a pub drinker, not a party drinker or heaven forfend, a solitary drinker.  And there’s no pub culture Over Here, only a bar culture, thus Q.E.D.

So this list of top British beers* got my attention, and it made me want to go Over There and embark on a nationwide pub crawl.

Now there’s a problem brewing, so to speak, in that said list doesn’t include two of my absolute favorites, Wiltshire’s Wadworth 6X and Cornwall’s Tribute, which are to me an astounding omission.  That said, however, I know that both of them are wonderful so I don’t need some poxy list to tell me about their charms.  Another omission is Kent’s Spitfire Ale, which I haven’t tasted for myself but which goes highly recommended by everyone whose opinion on the topic I respect;  and their advertising is just wonderful.

And not having spent any time at all Oop Nawth, all the Yorkshire brews listed are to me like Swedish virgins, i.e. unknown, unobtainable but somehow enticing**.

I mean, really (#8).

And we all know about this one (#6):

Kent, here I come.

I won’t drink lager beers of any brand or national origin anyway, so some of the listed brands are unlikely ever to find their way down my gullet — hell, I never liked that Carling Black Label swill, even when I was smack in the middle of the target demographic (young, stupid and poor) — and I once described Scotland’s Tennent as the reason why the Jocks fight so much.

And while I heartily agree with their ranking of Fuller’s ESB as the very best of beers, I find it a little too strong and always end up drinking their London Pride (#7) instead — hardly a terrible compromise, I assure you.

Anyway, give the linked video a chance;  and if like me you have a sudden urge to sink a pint or two afterwards, don’t blame me.

And if ever I find myself with the funds necessary to embark upon a nationwide pub crawl to sample all those lovely brews for myself, it’s on Ye Olde Bucquette Lyste, you betcha.

*ignore the stupid A.I. voiceover.  FFS, how difficult could it be to have someone real just read a script?

**that’s just a literary device:  I have absolutely zero interest in virgins, of any nationality, assuming that any still exist over the age of… well, I think 14 is probably the lamentably-low bar these days.

Transplanted

Lifestyle

This story (ordinarily the type I’d ignore) really struck a chord with me:

I decided, four years ago, to leave London, selling the flat I owned in Dalston and moving to Somerset.

The life I’d been building in London evaporated and I felt broken. The country seemed to offer a gentle place where I could retreat, lick my wounds and start again. After all, the countryside is where I had always been happy. Or so I told myself.

Of course, the reality blew a ten-foot hole in that dream, because of course life in the country isn’t as idyllic as it’s often painted.  Read the thing for the details.

Anyway, the reason why this silly woman’s article interested me is that I’m a little like her (minus the foolishness).

I’ve often thought about finding a small place out in the boonies — “small” in country terms, i.e. just large enough to where I could make a short .22 range where I could bang away for hours on end without disturbing the neighbors — but of course there are several factors which have always stopped me from doing just that.

The first is that I’m a city boy by inclination.  I mean, most of my life has been spent in the ‘burbs, but the times when I’ve really enjoyed my life was when I lived in downtown Johannesburg and Chicago, and spent lengthy periods in places like London or Vienna.  I liked having a dizzying choice of places to eat out and drink, the movie houses and auditoriums, the shops which sold pretty much anything I needed (outside the gun world, of course), and even art galleries:  all within walking distance of my living room.  For that, I was prepared to put up with the noise of the city, the proximity of neighbors and all the things which would drive other people away.

Likewise when I’ve traveled abroad, I’ve always preferred to stay in the great cities (London, Paris and so on) over the small countryside towns.  Then again, it must be said that I really enjoyed living out in rural Hardy Country at Mr. Free Market’s country estate as well — probably the first time in my life that I’ve properly lived out in the sticks.

I have no illusions about living in the city, because I’ve been there and done that, on two continents.  Also, having spent half a year out in the company of The Englishman and Mr. Free Market, I have no illusions there too — although it must also be said that the Brits do a good job of making their small towns very livable, as anyone who’s ever been to places like Marlborough or Devizes will attest.

So while I often ask myself the question:  if you won the lottery, where would you spend most of your time?  the answer is probably “close to or actually in a city” more than “out in a country retreat”.

If for some reason I did choose the country option, however, I know I’d make a better job of it than the stupid woman who wrote that article.

Big Fat Hairy Deal

Health

…and I use the word “fat” advisedly.

Eli Lilly and Novo Nordisk officials have agreed to lower the cost of GLP-1 obesity drugs for Medicaid and Medicare recipients and those who pay directly and make treatments more accessible, President Donald Trump announced Thursday.

Medicare will begin to provide coverage for the obesity drugs for some people in mid-2026, which also might cause more private insurers to likewise add coverage for them.

The deal could lower the cost of the drugs to $150 per month for prescriptions that are available in pill form and that contain the lowest doses.

I remain skeptical, and here’s why.

I remember doing the math for Ozempic, and calculated that the cost per month (including the little single-use syringe) was about $5, for the .25ml shot.  What you actually pay is about $150 per month.

As anyone who knows anything about this business knows, the .25ml (the “lowest” as quoted above) barely does anything to you, weight-wise:  that’s the dose which prepares your system to handle the drug’s effects.  The serious weight loss starts with the .5ml double dose — well, it did for me, anyway — and guess what happens to the cost.  It increases exponentially with each increase in dosage.

I’ve had to quit taking Ozempic shots — as of last week, actually, because frankly, for someone trying to live on a fixed income amidst soaring inflation and prices of, well, everything except gasoline (which is still too expensive), I just can’t afford it.  (New Wife, by the way, wants me to continue to take it because she thinks if it keeps me alive, that’s worth it.  I remain unconvinced that it’s a lifesaver.)

My annual physical exam is late next week, and I’ll be discussing the matter with my GP.

Anyway, here’s the thing.  Under Medicare, my BP meds, my gout meds and my statins and others cost me…$11 per month.  Those drugs, I’m pretty sure, are actually saving my life;  the weight-loss stuff?  Who knows.

Maybe I’ll regain all the weight I lost (about 50lbs), or maybe I won’t.  Maybe my diabetes has responded well to the weight loss, or maybe it hasn’t:  the blood tests will tell.  One thing Ozempic did do for me was change the way I thought about food, or at least the quantities I consumed thereof.  I’m not sure that stopping the drug will make that attitude revert to its former self;  I don’t think it will.

We’ll see.  All I know is that as currently priced, the GLP-1 regime of drugs are unaffordable so I’ll just quit taking any of them until the cost comes down to what I can afford.

And if that decision ends my life, I don’t care.  I’m 71 years old, next week, and as anyone who’s reached that Biblical age limit can attest, the prospect of death no longer frightens one as much as it may have done in earlier times — which is what I’m going to tell my doctor next week.

Let’s see what he has to say about it.

In the meantime, though, my reaction to Trump’s much-heralded “price reduction” of this stuff is pretty much encapsulated in the title of this post.