Popination Reputation
a series of unhinged personal essays disguised as pub reviews. Today: Lady Justice Brewing, Part Deux.
I went again, and reviewed it again. But it’s not like last time—it’s a different Popination.
Lady Justice II: Englewood Boogaloo
Hang on, I’ve already Popinated to Lady Justice Brewery, you must be thinking. How come I’m doing a second piece on them? Am I breaking the rules? This is unfair! Isn’t it?
Nah, I wanted to come down to see Lady Justice in their new location—they recently shut down their crunchy Aurora place and opened a bigger, better one in Englewood. And their online presence continues to be so charming and entertaining, I had to come see them again, and review their new place, and give them some of my hard-earned money, and taste some more of their lovely wares. (Seriously—just follow their Threads and know that in some little corners of the world, all is light and love and gayness and goodness.)
It’s a bigger space here in Englewood than it was in Aurora, and though it isn’t the pinnacle of contemporary urban life, it’s bright and shiny and new and it looks bright and happy, with most of its old murals conserved (or redone? Must be) for the sunny space. It’s right around the corner from a place I’d never heard of, too—the Whiskey Biscuit? Color me intrigued. But I felt just as welcomed and just as comfy in a good queer safe space as I had in its other location:
I had forgotten what a rough part of town this was. But it actually turned out just fine, and when I went in, the tiny little bar with the brew stuff tucked in back was so bright, colorful, queer, and laid back that I was immediately put at ease. A good vibe in a tough corner of the world.
Great beer, better world
I was looking over their current beer menu, realizing their IPAs were all hazy for the most part, which is not my jam. I had a Found Family, which I’d had at their old place and I knew I liked it—I forget if it’s an ESB or a Red ale, but I’m doing no research, remember? The bartender, a nonbinary chap name of Eamon, made me chortle in delight when, after I remarked that I needed a beard to stroke so I can think about my next beer choice, they responded, “We can arrange that.” Ha! Ahem. Well said, sir.
They did have a good suggestion, though, even though I certainly wouldn’t have agreed to try it had I known what they’d poured. ”What is this?” I asked, scenting and admiring the color of the sample in front of me.
“Don’t worry about it,” Eamon responded.
“No, really.”
“It’s beer; don’t worry about it.”
And so I learned to not worry and love the beer*—which ended up being a surprising strawberry beer, I think an IPA maybe? Or maybe a flavorful lager. Anyway, I expressed my astonishment, as it was just a light tasty beer, and I was getting no sweet or fruity or strawberry flavors, just good beer flavor, and Eamon said, “I know, right? This is my favorite right now.”
We then had a conversation about whether I was a Tori Amos gay or a Mariah Carey gay, which. Look, I’m not gay but bi, which I feel like is a distinction that would make a difference in that choice, to be fair. And I’m not either in any case, though there was a time in the mid-to-late ‘90s at the end of my college career where I did indeed listen to Tori. But. I mean, come on: she’s an unhinged redhead and we all know how I am about those. Plus, you’re gonna straddle your piano bench and when you sing, your voice sounds like you’re in mid-orgasm? I’m not made of stone…
And now…the Covid Shakespeare Club
Later that evening, I was set to appear in that week’s Covid Shakespeare Club performance of Timon of Athens, an odd duck of a tragedy that I’d actually never read before. What’s the CSC? I’ve described it before I think briefly in Notes, but maybe I haven’t talked about it here? Basically, the CSC is a lovely island of misfit toys consisting of a bunch of pro- and semi-pro actors from across the three times zones of the country. We get together on Zoom and do readings of Shakespeare plays (and sometimes of other things, but mainly Shakespeare). We’re like, a year-round Shakespeare festival, performing weekly, mainly for ourselves but audiences with their mics and cameras turned off are welcome to come watch too. I met them through a friend of mine from acting school in college—that same friend I stayed with in Oly when I did Shakespeare in the park there over the summer of 2022. She’s a member of this group, and I found my way to joining through her.
The CSC is such a delight and a blessing—I’ve been able to play multiple dream roles by being a part of this, roles I’d never be cast in through any ‘normal’ company. But there’s no slouches there, either, or the experience would be frustrating. Instead, it’s a fun and good quality theatrical (and literary) experience each week, and besides: it’s super valuable to me, to be able to keep up with my Shakespearean actor chops on such a regular basis. Plus, it’s just fun.
So that evening, I sipped on a big crowler of that Found Family beer I mentioned above, which, hey, talk about an appropriately named beer for the occasion. Theatre groups are absolutely that, or they can be. That night, I was a stand-in for a last minute dropout, and read one of what was probably one of the only more pivotal parts besides the titular lead. Plus a couple small roles with quick changes between, which was super fun.
That’s part of the fun of CSC: the actors often have a lot of creative expression using Zoom backdrops and including costumes and props proper to each part they play: often an actor will play multiple roles, and so you’ll see someone switch to a different hat, or the backdrop will change from a city to the forest, or like in this production: one actor had a different pair of glasses for each character he played.
Here’s how the protocol works:
When you’re offstage, you have your camera off. Often, they encourage keeping your sound on, though, so that the funny bits can get the laughs they deserve and such. Then when you enter stage, you pop your camera on. Lines are always read, so we always have a script nearby (memorizing all this every week would be way too much to ask). I like to use iPads for most of my work that doesn’t require an actual computer, and so I’ll have one up on a stand for my Zoom and one propped up just out of frame below it that I can read and yet not be looking down too much.
For this show, I began as a Poet, so I had a hipster beanie on and kept sucking on some candy cigarettes that my partner had found hiding in the back of a cabinet from some Christmas stocking past. Then for the bigger role, I used my blue blocker glasses and had a pen and some bills as props. Then the third small part was one of the funnest: there are two characters about 2/3rds of the way through called Strangers, and me and the other actor made them into queeny Southern-accented gossips. Good times. Bless our hearts…
Also, one of the other very fun things about CSC productions is the goofy Zoom chat that goes on simultaneously. In the chat, you’ll find such things as ‘that’s what she said’ jokes, laughing quips at the many innuendoes (which in Shakespeare are pretty prolific), and praise and emoji applause for any particularly fantastic acting. Which, in this club, happens quite frequently. Catty, these actors are not; everyone is ready to give a well-deserved set of kudos to a good moment, a moving speech, or a fun characterization.
All in all, a good brewery, a good beer, and some good Shakespeare over a couple pints is a pretty dang good Friday, if you ask me.
*Name the movie.