You remember the year you put that old Ford back together? Piece by piece you worked on that vintage machine, long into the nights, while Marty and Joe called the game on the radio and you cussing with every busted knuckle. Then, with that first crank, she fired up like she rolled right off the line and pride rushed through you like hi-test gasoline. And no, you can’t have that year back, but you can have a can of Crankshaft IPA, and the familiar beauty of those long-past days will return. Life is not about the destination, but the journey.