Life and Times in SoCal

A Keg Full of IPA, Beef Ribs and Something Like Dessert

Well, apparently summer is now officially over.

I say “apparently” because here in Southern California nobody seems to have told the weather.

In America, Labor Day—the first Monday in September—is traditionally regarded as the unofficial end of summer. It also comes with a collection of strange little rules and traditions, most of which appear to have been invented at a time when people had considerably more time to worry about what other people were wearing.

The most famous, of course, is that you shouldn’t wear white after Labor Day.

Why? I have absolutely no idea.

Apparently, summer whites, linen trousers and white shoes are supposed to disappear into the wardrobe until next year. These days nobody really takes much notice, but the rule survives nevertheless, presumably waiting patiently for someone to walk into a restaurant on September 8th wearing white trousers so everybody can quietly judge them.

Labor Day also signals that pool season should start winding down and summer drinks should gradually give way to red wine, bourbon and autumn beers.

Southern California has chosen to ignore virtually all of this.

September can quite easily be hotter than June, the pool is still very much open, shorts remain perfectly acceptable attire, and we can continue eating outside for several more months.

In other words, autumn here is largely theoretical.

So naturally, to celebrate the official end of summer, we decided to have a pool party.

Welcome once again to Jevins Resort & Spa.

We invited a mixture of close friends, neighbors and work colleagues over for the afternoon. The kids took over the pool while the adults concentrated on the more serious business of beer, wine, Pimm’s, food and catching up on several months' worth of gossip.

It is important to have priorities.

Normally we hold a party around the Fourth of July, but this year things were slightly different. The pool was being renovated and, with America celebrating its 250th birthday, quite a few people understandably wanted to spend the holiday with their own families.

So, we moved the Jevins extravaganza to Labor Day instead.

Most of the people who came have met at previous parties, which makes these gatherings very easy. Nobody needs much introduction anymore; people simply arrive, find someone they know, grab a drink and within about fifteen minutes everybody knows what everybody else has been doing since the last party.

One unexpected topic of conversation this year was my book, I Never Meant To Be A Nomad.

A few people knew I had published it. Most didn't.

This resulted in quite a few questions, several surprised expressions and the occasional look suggesting, “He’s written a book, I wonder if he’ll sign my copy?”

Yes. I did.

This year we also did something revolutionary.

I didn't cook.

Normally I spend most of the party standing over a grill pretending that cooking meat for a large number of people while drinking beer is relaxing. Julie, meanwhile, does virtually everything else.

This year we decided to be sensible and had the main food catered by Wood Ranch Grill. They supplied the proteins and sides, while Julie and I handled the salads and a few other bits and pieces.

The theory was that this would make the whole thing considerably easier.

It didn't.

Somehow, despite somebody else cooking most of the food, we were still absolutely exhausted by the end of the night.

I have therefore concluded that hosting a party is tiring regardless of how much of it you outsource.

There was, however, one particularly successful piece of outsourcing.

The beer.

Over the course of this year, Julie and I have got to know the management team and owners at Brewery X in Anaheim, and we've become good friends with them.

For the party they very kindly supplied us with a keg of one of their most popular IPAs: Slap & Tickle.

Yes, that really is its name.

It is around 6.7% alcohol, which makes it a reasonably serious IPA. The slightly dangerous part is that it doesn't particularly taste like a reasonably serious IPA.

It is exceptionally smooth.

This creates a very simple mathematical problem:

Smooth beer + 6.7% alcohol + keg = poor decision-making potential.

Fortunately, everyone behaved themselves.

Or at least nobody has subsequently sent me photographic evidence suggesting otherwise.

The keg was certainly popular, and the beef ribs disappeared at an impressive rate.

And, maintaining one of the more important traditions in the Jevins household, there was no dessert.

Well, that's not entirely true.

Actually, there was quite a lot of dessert. Julie made her famous trifle and a gluten-free chocolate cake, while others brought those wonderful American staples: Apple pie and cookies.

So essentially, apart from the trifle, chocolate cake apple pie and cookies, there was absolutely no dessert.

A few weeks before the party, in the middle of August, Julie and I had also made a trip across the country to Philadelphia to spend a weekend with two of Julie’s old friends, Jeff and Alverna.

They have lived in the United States for more than thirty years, and it was wonderful to spend some proper time with them, catching up and exploring Philadelphia. And what a fascinating city it is.

Philadelphia was effectively the birthplace of the United States and, for somebody like me who loves history, there is something quite remarkable about going to Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence was signed.

We also saw the Liberty Bell and took an excellent bus tour around the city, hearing the history and seeing many of the famous landmarks.

And, of course, there was another essential piece of Philadelphia history that needed investigating.

The Philly cheesesteak.

We headed to Reading Terminal Market, which is one of those wonderful places where you walk in intending to have a quick look around and very rapidly realize that you're going to eat something.

So, we did what any responsible visitors to Philadelphia should do and had Philly cheesesteaks.

There are certain foods you really ought to eat in the place that made them famous. Fish and chips and Yorkshire pudding in Yorkshire, barbecue in Texas, and a cheesesteak in Philadelphia.

It would have been culturally insensitive not to. At least that's the justification I'm sticking with.

Naturally, another landmark was Rocky.

Or, more accurately, the statue of Rocky Balboa near the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the famous steps from the 1976 film.

America has the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Liberty Bell.

And Rocky Balboa.

All perfectly legitimate national treasures.

It was a terrific weekend and another reminder of just how much there still is for Julie and me to see—and apparently eat—in this enormous country.

And now September is marching on.

Next up, we're getting ready for Carys to arrive in the middle of the month, which we're really looking forward to. At the same time, we're starting to put the final details together for our return to the UK in November.

Then, of course, we'll come back from Britain, blink twice and somebody will announce that Christmas is three weeks away.

I know exactly how this works.

So apparently summer is over. The white trousers should be packed away, autumn has officially begun and we're all supposed to be thinking about pumpkins, cooler evenings and changing leaves.

Meanwhile, here in Southern California, it's still hot, the pool is still open and there's probably still some IPA somewhere that needs drinking.

I'll take our version of autumn.

Ciao Paul & Julie

September 2026