Daydreaming behind cubicle work walls of Friday's first drink

Living Bent isn't to live under any culturally accepted umbrella. It's to stay messed up at most all times, away from reality, and the worries of what tomorrow may bring about...

The future home of supposed Germantown Commons was once the field that we played baseball as kids, had our first cigarette, and shared our first warm beer.

On the corner of Logan and Oak, in the heart of Germantown, Smoketown USA Barbeque has been cranking out good eats for close to three years.

An ode, and a remembrance of sorts of the people that have come before us, and the ones that have passed on, whether it be of old age, or the ones that were taken prematurely. Growing up in Germantown means that in some cases you may have the chance to grow old, but it also means that you may fall short of that goal.

At the Nach Bar's St. Baldrick's event, young and old, male and female sit side by side, and face the clippers as part of the worldwide effort of shaving the way to conquer kid's cancer.

It's nearly that time again, and folks are already asking when the Germantown beer walk is.

While it seems that these days the trend has shifted from clubby spots serving overpriced drinks and watered down entertainment, The Zeppelin Cafe flies under the weak sauce radar, and stays true to what is both good and great about neighborhood bars that still double as a cafe, serve a stiff drink, and provide that home away from home feeling.

Brother Ali said it best in his song Room With a View when he dropped lines like, "I see all this from the desk that I write my rhymes from, pen starts to write on its own, my minds numb, but you can call me a modern urban Norman Rockwell, because I paint a picture of the spot well." With a platform such as this, and a free range to let go, that's my only objective. Sure, introducing you to new restaurants and venues around the town is expected, but painting a picture so that you can grasp it with your senses, as you see, smell, and hear the things that I write about is what you can guarantee.

This damn snow keeps hanging around, but let me paint a picture for you from a Germantown summer's perspective. During the grey winter months when the ground is frozen and the deciduous trees are bare, motionless, and dormant, I often find myself daydreaming of plush summers. Summers that blow the captivating mulberry tree's breeze passed our nostrils, while its fruit speckle stains the walkways of our backyards...