In South Africa during apartheid, ‘Shebeens’ were common communal areas where people would come to drink. ‘Shebeen’ is slang that evolved from the word ‘cheap.’ Brewed beer used to be very expensive, but in a Shebeen it wasn’t.

I started working at Pappy’s when I was 21 and my bosses make fun of me all the time. I used to wear a ton of makeup, and I had big fake nails. I was very close-minded too. I hate to say, even slightly racist. I was judgemental. Fast-forward 11 years, I don’t wear any makeup, I chew my fingernails, and I like everybody…until I don’t like them.

I always loved objects. People think this place is bizarre, but I feel myself here. I identify with the place…For me, it’s my life. I put everything in it. All the things I’ve done, I’ve done with passion.

There’s this old short story, and I’d love to know if it’s true, because I don’t know if it’s just a parable, but supposedly there was a small British shoe company in the 1800s that thought there might be an opportunity in Africa, so they sent a couple of salesmen down there. A couple of months later one of them reported back with a telegram saying, “There is no opportunity here. No one wears shoes.” And a few days later the other one reported back and said, “The opportunity is huge here. No one wears shoes.” I love that story, because it shows you how it all depends on how you look at it. You can look at things as an opportunity or as a barrier.

What is great about the time in which we live is that people can dress however they want. The fact that there are so many different modes of expression, and the freedom for anyone to look they way they want to look, I think that’s a really wonderful thing…It’s a fun thing to dress up for special occasions, because there’s a demarcation between that and regular life. I love ceremony, and I love any occasion that calls for a specific outfit.

The most inspiring thing I’ve ever seen was on a ship to Norway. We were sailing up the fjords. I woke up at a normal hour, went up to the top deck, and stepped into the sunlight. The mountains were so close you felt you could touch them. From when I stood I could see 18 different waterfalls cascading down into the fjords. It was one of the first times in my life I think I was speechless. It snatched my breath away.

To be a cooper you need to be stubborn. Some woodworking skills are important, but stubbornness and maturity are probably more helpful. This work really comes down to a mix of that, then patience, patience, and more patience. Often you have to step away and come back; give things time. I think I’ve always been incredibly patient…As long as I’m not driving.

I just feel disappointment and have no trust in what any political leaders have to offer any more. I’m disgusted by the lack of love, compassion, good moral character, and empathy this country has now. To me, this is how you create division among the nation and that’s a very dangerous thing to do.

Pride Week in New York feels important. It was the first openly gay event I’d ever come to. It was in 2014 and I was living in Vermont. The week before Pride, I’d had a conversation with a friend who had encouraged me to come out to my sister, and so I had called her up and done that. At first I didn’t want to go to Pride, but a friend was driving so I jumped in the car last minute. I was only there for the parade, and went straight back to Vermont. It was a whirlwind, but it was a good thing for me.

These days, Independence Day seems to be less about history and more about stopping work and taking time out to enjoy the freedom we’ve all worked for, or inherited. For me, that means going out in the woods, camping, being with friends and family, dipping in some water, fishing, putting back a couple of cold ones and, of course, having a good old time lighting up some fireworks.

As a chef, I believe cuisine should invoke the spirit and pride of your home, and if your plants, fruits, cheeses, and meats are from local farms, that becomes effortless. Farming is a noble profession, deeply rooted in American history, so whenever there’s an opportunity to shine a light on a farmer, I jump at it.

Brian: My father is the smartest man I’ve ever met. He’s very, very driven. Huge amounts of foresight. Passionate guy. He worked a million hours to get his brewery going, but he was very good about making time for us. I remember climbing on grain sacks, and there are pictures of me in case boxes. My dad would put me on the packaging line and push me down. The conveyer system was my slide. I learnt how to ride my bicycle at the brewery. I’ve got millions of memories of the place.

I think the debate around social media and overexposure will most likely seem foolish to future generations. There’s a big transition right now, and a serious disconnect between the teenage generation who Snapchats all day long and older generations who use Facebook as a soapbox.

I was surprised that I felt more moved and emotional about Orlando than other mass shootings. Obviously, every shooting in this country is a horrible tragedy, but this was a mass shooting targeting queer people. I felt it.

I grew up in New Jersey, but I went into wildlife as a profession. I was fortunate enough to work in the Youth Conservation Corps, and got really interested in birds and bird-watching behaviour. I remember the first time I saw a Killdeer do a broken wing act, I was fascinated by it.

I’m an arborist. I spent my teenage years rock climbing, but now get paid to climb trees. Last year I almost crushed a lady’s Corgi to death while felling a large dead tree in a paddock. I had cordoned off the area, but that didn’t stop old mate from charging on in and running directly under the falling tree. The Corgi lived to tell the tale, only just!

A friend said to me once, “You have to wake yourself up 100 times a day to be where you are.” It’s a constant struggle for me to be where I am. It’s so easy to check out, and it’s not that dreaming or ambition is wrong—I just think that, for so long, I was always looking to other places, when it was so much better to be where I was.

A great thing about Seattle? Any street that ends at a waterfront, no matter how overgrown or unmarked, is treated as a park and open to the public.

A nori fisherman once told me a very memorable thing: “In order to improve the quality of the ocean, we must look to improve the quality of the rivers, but when we look to improve the rivers, we must also go to the mountains to make sure all there is as it should be.”

My mother taught me about patience, duty, humility and how to keep giving, even when you think you can’t give any more. She’s a gentle, quiet woman, but she’s the toughest motherfucker I know.

The internet is at the centerpiece of my morning ritual. After gulping some OJ and making a double espresso, I lay on the couch and toggle between my three music-oriented websites: Brooklyn Vegan, Complex, and Pitchfork. This triangulation usually leads to which album or playlist I choose for my morning paddleboard or bike ride. Typically, it’s an artist they reviewed or mentioned that reminds me of some other artist I love and want to hang out with for the morning.

My first introduction to cider came from the Bristol bands Disorder, Amebix, and Chaos UK. They had these slogans like “Fall Over Not Out,” and “Make Homebrew Not War,” and I realised they were talking about cider. My interest was piqued. There’s actually a clip in a film UK/DK of Disorder and Amebix in their squat and they’ve got a big vat of scrumpy in the corner. I think they probably just got some apple juice and let it go, and I imagine the aroma would have been an improvement considering the way they were living at the time.

My favorite thing on the internet is the Blue Ball Machine. It’s a metaphor for so many things in life.

There’s a record I keep in the bottom drawer of my desk. It’s a single of a Japanese singer and there’s a line in the verse that’s stayed with me. There’s no translation of the word, but even in Japanese it’s difficult to convey. It basically means “that thing.” When I was a teenager that record showed me where I wanted to go. In my middle age it helped reaffirm my decisions. Now when I open the drawer it serves only to fill my mind with doubt. I’m not sure if I still have “that thing.”

I’ve been working at Allagash for two and a half years, but I’ve decided to go back to school and get my masters in social work. It was a hard choice. The brewery is like my family. It’s where I’ve met my closest friends, but I had a calling. The direction I want to take is helping people who are new to the country get settled in. There’s a huge need here in Portland especially with new arrivals and refugees. But whenever I come back to the brewery, it’s like nothing has changed.

What makes a really great friend? Someone you don’t have to talk to all the time, but it’s like you never stopped chatting when you catch up.

At the risk of sounding like a doomsday prophet, I think our future generations are going to want to know why and how we let our natural world get to such a desperate and depleted state. How we managed to destroy our planet, and in such a short space of time, especially considering we have all the means and resources to turn things around, and slow down the rapid destruction and decay.

St Patrick’s Day was a holy day in Ireland for years and years, so celebrating with alcohol was outlawed. All the pubs and liquor stores were closed until they changed the laws in 1961. Goes without saying that 1962 must have been a great year…

Being alone has forced me to face my grief and anger, and to become more comfortable with myself and things I can’t control. Loneliness has motivated me to seek friendship and to be more open. In getting used to the idea of being okay with being lonely, sad, or uncomfortable, I have had opportunities, and met people who I love and never would have bonded with had I pursued the most comfortable route in life. With life comes loneliness, I suppose.

I wouldn’t want to live in a world where Prince could no longer surprise us. I’m not that worried, because there’s a good chance he will outlive all of us anyway. Or find a way to come back. Just sayin’.

I’m passionate about cart returns in parking lots. Seriously. There’s nothing more irritating then people not returning their carts to the corral. I’d totally gather up carts for free. I actually do it already anytime I’m in a parking lot.

I’ve always been afraid of classrooms. I love to go with the flow, and I think you can learn a lot from interacting with different types of people. I guess I don’t really live by anything other than whatever new experience I’m handed each morning.

I think a lot of people will say that the world is getting more complicated. But in the food industry that I work in, I think it’s getting simpler. “Less is more” is really exciting.

Growing up, I always remember the way my PopPop treated the people around him. He’s into his 80s now but still to this day I’ve never seen him treat anyone unfairly. He’s always recognized and appreciated those who work hard and showed them his respect to make sure they knew it.

Oakland’s special, first and foremost, for the people. Many of them grew up here and possess a deep sense of community and social justice. Sure, life here is not as glitzy as it is in our big sister across the bay, but Oaklanders have an artistic spark and genuine originality that’s all their own.

A book that has been near and dear to me, that I’ve probably read two dozen times, easy, was written by Norman MacLean in the ’70s called A River Runs Through It. It’s very rootsy Americana in its nature. I love the way Norman writes. I love the introspection. The movie that Redford made was well done, but it doesn’t knock a dent into the significance this story had on Norman himself; the way we lack the ability in relationships to communicate well with the people we love most. It is as relevant to me now as it was 25 years ago when I first read it.

The worst job I ever had was in a pub where they put me in the gambling room as the attendant. I only lasted a week because when someone won money, say 50 bucks, I was instructed to give it to them in five dollar notes to tempt them to put it straight back in. I just couldn’t do it.

I’ve always coveted a Black 64 Chevy Impala convertible, because I’m from Detroit and, well, because I love that Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg video too. I don’t need the hydraulics, but a custom sound system is critical. I also like the big back seat so I can have room for my son’s car seat. Now that’s gangsta.

The last time I felt lucky was yesterday, when I was tipping sand out of my shoes. I realised what a glorious “problem” it is to have remnants from the beautiful beach at my doorstep, nestled between my toes. Apparently, it stops your shoes from stinking as much too.

Unlike many countries in the world, Japan has been able to retain many of its old customs and traditions. Even today, there is such an effort to pass along those ways. The four seasons of the year have their own distinct set of traditions that I learned from my family from a young age, and I hope to impart those lessons to my future family one day.

One of my best moments this year was packing up and going on a road trip to New Orleans from New York. It was a really special trip with a group of old and new friends from around the world, who all happened to find ourselves in the same place for a moment.

A thing that pisses me off are the twats who share anti-Muslim/anti-Islamic propaganda on social media. Is there some head twat who sits in front of a computer all day making up this shit? There is enough hatred in the world as it is without this rubbish being spread around.

Most people who garden and grow things, they love sharing. I wouldn’t think there’s a stingy gardener. There might be, but I’ve never met one.

I saw a picture of Star Wars-branded oranges recently, and mascara. It’s just like, what the fuck? 

It is possible to start again after what happened here, but it’s not the same. I’ve been afraid, and I’ve been so angry, because they touched the best aspect of life; they touched the youth of Paris. I’m scared, but at the same time there is a kind of hope. Maybe one week afterwards, it was a Saturday and the whole district was empty. Normally it would be full. My friends and I were in a bar, just drinking. A few people who walked by the bar, they looked at us like we were heroes. They were smiling at us, because we were living. We can still do a lot. We can go to work and go to see friends and go to drink, and know that we have more chance to be killed by a bus, or a car, or some flowers that fall from a balcony than a terrorist attack. We try to be optimistic.

A joke I heard recently? Well, a horse walks into a bar, and the bar tender says: “It’s probably not a good idea that you’re in here. You’re a very large animal. Any sudden movements and you may injure somebody. I don’t know why you’re here. None of the glasses are ergonomically designed for you to drink from them so you should probably just leave.”

My nickname is “Jacket.” My girlfriend is a stylist so she is obsessed with clothes, mainly jackets, and as my name is slightly similar she accidentally called me Jacket instead of Jackson. Surprisingly, my friends started calling me Jacket too and it has stayed like that ever since.

My favorite artist is Dalí. I stumbled across a copy of his autobiography in elementary school and, while I’m sure I didn’t fully digest it at the time, I credit him with changing the course of my life. But a famous piece of art I wish I’d created? The poster from Raiders of the Lost Ark. It’s an iconic artwork for one of the best movies of all time. And that typeface!

I get annoyed at the wind. Actually, I fucking hate the wind. There’s two types of wind: good wind, which is a nice morning offshore, more of a breeze. And bad wind, which is that shit that blows your hat clean off your head when all you want to do is cross the road for a showbag after a hard day’s work. What’s a showbag? Three tall bottles of beer in a bag.