It was somewhere around the third quarter of the Seahawks-Cardinals game when I glanced at my beer mug sitting on the nearby table.  I had been watching football and drinking beer for what seemed like the entire weekend when the moment struck. Early in the day the mug sat there with enthusiasm, slightly frosted, and filled to the rim with a Mexican lager.  The foam slowly dripped down the side.  The lime wedge floated with excitement. But it wasn’t until the games were practically over, and the recycling bin was full, when the great philosophical question thrust itself upon me. Was the glass... Read More