Son of Beer (An adaptation of a legend)

Once upon a time there was Beer. Beer was awful lonely just hanging around on it's own, so one day it decided to wander the world in search of meaning and purpose. Throughout it's travels, Beer met people. Yes, people were so very strange but they seemed to enjoy the company of Beer very much, and it was so lonely it figured it aught to stick with the people. Perhaps some day it would find purpose among these bipeds. Beer encountered many other creatures and substances on its journey and became friends with many of them as well, but Beer was always close to the people.
At some point, the people became very sad. They worked all day and many straight into the night. Their bodies hurt, their heads hurt, and many had hurt in their heart. When Beer saw that its friends were sad and in pain, it wanted to help how ever it could. Beer tried everything! Jokes, tricks, massages, hot baths, cookies, flowers.... but nothing seemed to work. There was just so much wrong with the people on the inside. If only there were a way to get inside to get at the problems.... And there it was. The solution seemed so simple. Beer told the people to drink itself. Most of the people were so desperate they actually did!
Beer was so excited to be helping its friends that the moment they drank it, Beer forgot its plan. It forgot how it was going to get at the root of the problems. It forgot that it was going to bring those problems to the outside and show the people so they knew what to fix. In fact, Beer forgot almost everything. But it was so excited! All it could remember was "make people happy". So Beer ran around recklessly inside of people until their skin was warm and their brains were buzzing. Soon the people forgot that they had hurt at all and Beer was so pleased to have helped. But as time went on, it became clear to everyone that as Beer got tired and stopped running, the hurt or sad came back. So the people needed to drink Beer more often and more of it to stay happy. Many people would drink Beer even if they weren't sad, but it never filled them entirely and they were always wanting more. Sometimes people even did bad things and then blamed it on Beer. Those were sad times.
Beer grew tired of people and soon sought other company. After long years of searching for meaning in life, it gave up and fell in with a band of miscreants. With some of the members of such a band, Beer fathered several illegitimate children. One of its spawn they call Lucky.
Now Lucky understood his father's failure in attempting to fit into a 'higher calling'. Lucky would have no part in a wasted life, but neither would he strive to be more than he was. Lucky was son of Beer and was proud of it. All he cared to do was exist to be drunk by people. That's all he wanted.
When he was of age, Lucky hopped a barge headed east and made his home in a little settlement known as Refuge Cove. He quickly made friends with one of his darker cousins named Ironhorse, and together they spent their days happily drunk.

---An adaptation of a legend.

Here's an intro to Refuge Cove

For the next two months, my brother and I will be inhabiting the basement of a large house overlooking Refuge Cove, BC. Refuge, (affectionately known as Refuse Cove), is a very small settlement tucked away in the nook of an island three ferries and a speed boat away from Vancouver city. To give you an idea of how small it really is, I would dare you to tell one person a secret. Within a matter of hours, that secret would have bloomed into a garden of stories and the entire population of the cove would have heard one or two versions. At least you'd have the reassurance that your secret was never told in it's original format and was still safe in a sense.
Downtown Refuge is comprised of a laundromat with a washroom and showers, the General Store, a book shack that used to be the burger stand, and a cafe. There are several cabins scattered through the woods and perched on cliffs overlooking the water owned by the co-op members and a few hermitish folk escaping the clutches of "civilized society". Though most of the inhabitants of the cove live far apart, almost all enter the central hub of activity to fill up on gossip and beer at least once a day. With a year-round population of under ten and a summer census counting just under forty, we are pretty much out in the boonies. Aside from millionaire tourists and the occasional escape mission, we are cut off from the rest of the world. Most of our days are surrounded by moss, ferns, water, woods, boats, docks, locals who are local in every sense of the term, tourists, liquor, gossip and fungus.

We both worked here two years ago so I guess that counts as fair warning, but here we are again, trapped on the island, doing odd jobs and working for the general store. I'll do my best to capture the "charm" of this place in the following posts.

And so it begins...

Hi.
I collect things. Rocks, sea shells, feathers, condiments, people, pretty paper, ideas, adventures, stories, and so forth ad nauseum. Most of the time I simply hoard these things, occasionally arranging and rearranging until I get bored and move on. But lately, I feel like I ought to share some of these things with people like you. I have decided against sharing my condiments because little packets of horseradish paste are just really hard to find and I know you all want one, and if I shared with one of you, the rest would feel left out. Therefore, I shall share words about horseradish paste and hope that it will suffice. I shall share words about rocks and feathers and the people that I am destined to meet. I will share adventures, but only if they are at all fascinating, and I will share my thoughts if ever I come across them.
I suppose if you keep up with the reading of this thing, you'll get a glimpse into my story. Hopefully it will entertain you and perhaps make you smile. I pray that my story will bring joy to yours.