Recent Observations from Vancouver’s Bar Scene
By Debbra Mikaelsen
I came of age in one of those small Canadian towns, where a young* person’s social life typically unfolded at bush parties. They took place halfway down some logging road, with participants sitting on stumps around a smoking fire, while Foreigner blared from someone’s car speakers. The only appropriate beverage was beer.
It wasn’t easy to fit in. I didn’t like REO Speedwagon, plaid flannel, slivers in my bum—or beer.