The symposium was a success, and the coffee break's over. Back on our heads.

I spent Friday and Saturday in Lexington, Kentucky, for the occasion of the Craft Writing symposium. It was a blast, and I'm honored to have shared billing with some real heavyweights in the craft beer world.

Is it finally time for my long-awaited memoirs?  Those with long memories will recall the projected title: “Beer, Bile and Bolsheviks: A Fermentable Life." There has been no more time to write it, but a boy can dream.

Not so simple a symposium.

It isn’t often that two A-list highlights from one’s entire life occur in a single weekend, but it can happen. In fact, it just happened to me. Both memorable moments came about because of the craft writing symposium held in Lexington, Kentucky, on February 15.

The lesser of the two came on Saturday afternoon when keynote speaker Garrett Oliver called me out by name (“Mr. Baylor”), to contest a previous bullet point I made about two eighteen-wheelers filled with craft beer, passing each other on a lonesome prairie interstate highway, headed for opposite coasts.

Would the drivers even know to wave amid the widening carbon footprint of their payloads?

At LouisvilleBeer.com: " Conformity, contrarianism and a craft writing symposium."

Follow the link to read the whole essay at LouisvilleBeer.com, where my beer columns appear weekly on Monday morning. It's a high honor to be included among the beer biz luminaries at the symposium, and that's no joke. If it wasn't so damned cold, I'd consider costuming as Socrates. Perhaps a hockey jersey will do the trick.

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Conformity, contrarianism and a craft writing symposium. by Roger Baylor

In my stray jigsaw-puzzle-piece of the planet, the coming weekend is utterly devoted to the city of Lexington, Kentucky.

I never once thought I’d write that sentence, but Lexington is where my mother attended the University Of Kentucky, which is hosting an event called “Craft Writing: Beer, The Digital, and Craft Culture,” among whose participants I have been included by the symposium’s organizer, Jeff Rice.

Beer Tuesday 2: “Tastes of Paradise: A Social History of Spices, Stimulants and Intoxicants."

As noted here previously, the realization some weeks ago that I'd be appearing in February at a craft beer writing symposium, and in the company of genuine industry heavyweights, finally got me off my duff and thinking again. There's nothing like desperately seeking to avoid embarrassment to get the wheels spinning.

The gist of my recent writing shtick is this: NABC borrowed a bunch of money and built a second brewery in 2009, and in the five years since then, it has become clear that numerous assumptions we made about craft beer and the craft beer marketplace were skewed. Sometimes they were plainly wrong -- just ask any banker.

Not that the Bank Street project has been unsuccessful, just that almost every gain recorded there in terms of beer distribution reflects an unexpected refutation of a blithe prior assumption. In my writing of late, I'm trying to determine whether our experience is unique to us, or if there are universals involved.

Of course, we've had our share of screw-ups, but I tend toward the latter, and consequently, it worries me. Any time everyone agrees on something ("craft beer is great and we're conquering the world!"), it gives me pause, because the interests of the dialectic are not being served. As I told the FOSSILS club on Sunday night, I'm not prepared to offer answers. What I'm trying to to is ask the right questions, although merely being a gadfly absent polemics simply doesn't suit me.

Confrontation? That's another story, and the shoe definitely fits.

My column at LouisvilleBeer.com is running weekly on Mondays. Just last week I had the chance to look at the numbers and see whether the column was being read. At first, it seemed depressing; typically, just a couple hundred hits each time, or roughly equal to what I get here for "On the Avenues" and popular features about health department tyranny. Then I realized that traffic was evenly distributed among the various columnists, confirming what I already knew: My only real skill is writing, and I live in an era (and write about a topic) in which there are too few readers.

However, no discouragement here. Writing is a compulsion, and I get to attend a symposium. That's edifying. This week's column is about one of my favorite books.

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Tastes of paradise can shatter mirrors

Published at LouisvilleBeer.com on January 13, 2014

I’m not in the habit of compulsively re-reading books, even those of the highly influential sort.

Of course, there are exceptions:

• The early beer writing of Michael Jackson
• “The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History,” a sobering tome by John Barry
• Jim Bouton’s ribald baseball tell-all, “Ball Four”
• “A Confederacy of Dunces,” the classic New Orleans comic novel from John Kennedy Toole

Another is “Tastes of Paradise: A Social History of Spices, Stimulants and Intoxicants,” by the wonderfully named Wolfgang Schivelbusch. He is not a Groucho Marx character from Duck Soup, but a German-born cultural historian operating from a decidedly (Karl) Marxist perspective.

Trench warfare -- the regional "Good Beer Front" edition.

(Muttering) Ah, the humanity ... this bottle of low-cal, mass-market lager is attached to the hand of a sitting New Albanian council person. Do you know who?

At Facebook, the first comment appended to the photo was this: Sorry, but cannot hit 'like' for 'lite.'

Clever, Sam! At NABC, we work tirelessly to makes scenes like this part of our discredited collective memories, and not a daily matter for perusal. It keeps a boy quite busy, although these days, we have another helper. I'll allow the Scrum Coordinator to introduce himself, if he wishes.

Here is a rundown of coming NABC events, appearances and grenade launchings.

Last Friday, NABC said goodbye, farewell, amen ... free at last, free at last ... I will forget you, some day. No longer are we bound to Heidelberg Distributing, our Greater Kentucky area wholesaler. We are free agents, and this time, it is hoped we'll find a partner willing to work with us.

On Tuesday, November 5, we celebrate Elector's birthday. At 11, Elector's about ready for middle school. See how Elector's appearance has changed over the years from 2002 to 2013, and get the details of the Elector Story, and $2 pints (and $6.66 growler refills) at both NABC locations on the 5th.

Also on the 5th, I'll be pouring samples and providing soapbox oration at DNA's 1st Tuesday networking gig at Uptown Art (5 -7:30 p.m.), located just cross Bank Street from Bank Street Brewhouse.

On Thursday, November 7, we'll be at 99 Hops House, Hollywood Casino in Lawrenceburg. The casino is visibly supporting Indiana craft beer, and as a director seated on the board of the Brewers of Indiana Guild, I'm delighted to drive up and chat about our steady progress toward being a great brewing state ... and in case it wasn't reported behind the local paywall (hint: it wasn't), there are now 74 breweries operating in Hoosierland. There's also one fewer prohibitionist in the Indiana House, so join me in saying "amen" at the long overdue termination of legislative malpractice.

And then there's Houndmouth, the band and the ale, all around throughout November. The second night of Houndmouth's Thanksgiving weekend show has already sold out, but tickets are available for Friday.

You say you want a panic attack? Try agreeing to speak at what appears to be a modest craft writing symposium at the University of Kentucky (my mom's alma mater) next February, and then realize that it is to be populated by true heavyweights of my industry. Well, if you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, then baffle 'em with bullshit ... hmm, wonder if Houndmouth's free to accompany me? As the band captivates the crowd, I'll make for the unguarded cash bar.

There's a bar, right?

Panic attack: "Craft Writing" symposium coming in February, with me as a speaker.

I was asked some months ago to participate in a symposium called "Craft Writing: Beer, The Digital, and Craft Culture," to be held at the University of Kentucky (my mom's alma mater) on February 15, 2014.

Now it's dawning on me that among a group of stellar and high-powered craft beer luminaries, including personal heroes like Stan Hieronymus, Mitch Steele and -- gasp -- Garrett Oliver, I might well be the most recent call-up from Double-A ball.

Will I be hazed?

A Twitter friend suggested mild intoxication as a coping strategy, but why depart from the tried and gonzo habit of "full" intake? Perhaps breakfast at West 6th would do the trick.

But seriously: My usual last-minute improv routine may need some polishing for this one. If I remain the localist and embrace the radicalism inherent in being an unknown, it should be okay.

Practice, practice, practice.

Do they still make Mr. Microphones?