Back to the rockpile.

I was on holiday last week, and that's why there were no postings and no Wednesday column.

While away, I received information that just might enable an entertaining follow-up to a previous effort: Wednesday Weekly: "Contract," my ass. You can read it in the form of a comment at the original article. On the writing front, there may be a new "Mug Shots" at a different media location. Stay tuned; I hope to discuss details later in the week, and I'll let you know when I do.

Boston was a blast, and both Cambridge Brewing Company and Cape Ann Brewing Company proved to be tasty excursions. There's no craft beer in Fenway Park, unless Guinness and Sam Adams count. I have to admit the latter's Irish Red to be welcomed during a struggle with clams and pasta in the "devil" style in the North End.

Chianti? Whatever. Even the Harpoon IPA at the airport was fresh and enjoyable.

At The Independent in Somerville, Ommegang Biere de Mars and a selection of local oysters on the half shell went together very well, too. A touch of Brett gently teasing the brine. It makes me want to return.

It'll be a busy few days as the catch-up begins in earnest. I have meetings with the Louisville Craft Beer Week organizers tonight and River City Distributing on Friday, with the usual company confabs in between. There'll be more to say on those later in the week. NABC's Ancient Rage, a smoked Baltic Porter, debuts next Tuesday (August 3) on an otherwise forgettable exercise in birth chronology. The Great Taste? Less than three weeks out.

First, I'll be firing up the F-150. On the last bicycle ride before vacation, my rear tire punctured, picking up a large hunk of glass. I dropped it off to get a new tire, and now will reclaim the conveyance, which is necessary to begin shaving off the pounds accrued from Brazilian salad, lobster and Hop Devil.