My good friend Vic and I have engaged in our share of aimless and/or pointless activities. Such as the time we had a hankering for a greasy meal from the Cracker Barrel restaurant, and we made the 550-mile drive from Sacramento to the nearest Cracker Barrel, which was in Boise, Idaho. After enjoying our meals we immediately got back in the car and returned home that same day. Vic and I have also visited the unofficial McDonald’s museum which resides inside the Juan Pollo Chicken headquarters in San Bernardino, and we flirted with the cowgirl waitress in a ten-gallon bra at the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo.

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So when Vic recently observed that we were overdue for another “stupid trip,” I was all ears. (Those of you who have seen me in profile can attest to that fact.) Vic suggested that we make a pilgrimage (if you’ll pardon the expression) out to Salem, Massachusetts, home of the storied Salem Witch trials, to see what all the fuss was about. Admittedly, the fuss ended rather abruptly about 300 years ago, but growing up in California, our formal education studiously avoided any mention of events occurring before 1849. So we figured we’d correct for that oversight by listening to theater majors from North Shore Community College spin lurid, embellished tales about “The Troubles of 1692” while restlessly standing in reconstructed Colonial buildings next to a family of tourists from Minnesota wearing matching “WITCH WAY TO SALEM” shirts.

Which is why this morning we found ourselves at Sacramento Intergalactic Airport at Zero Dark Thirty. Vic and I took separate flights. This is not because we wanted to minimize the risk that the world might lose both of us in a plane crash, but because we each have frequent flier miles with different airlines.

After a day of flying, we were reunited at Boston Logan Airport (motto: “You Think Your Flight Was Long? Just Wait Til You Experience Our Rental Car Shuttles!”) just in time for a relaxing, pub-inspired dinner and a couple of brews at the Village Tavern.

Now, the thing you should know about Salem is that, like most historic towns, they really try to capitalize on their cliches. Judging from the Chamber of Commerce literature, nothing significant has happened in Salem since the late 17th century. Most businesses proudly play up their historic link with sorcery and black magic.

Anyway, we arrived too late to explore much this evening. But tomorrow I’ll be able to report on Salem’s unholy history.

BREW OF THE DAY

The Village Tavern has an extensive beer menu, but a significant portion is dedicated to the likes of Coors and PBR. However, I selected the intriguingly-named Lord Hobo Boom Sauce. (Disappointingly, it was served in a Michelob Ultra glass.)

My LHBS is a double IPA with an ABV of 7.8 percent. Lord Hobo Brewing was established in Woburn Massachusetts in 2015. It’s a decent brew, if you like IPAs. It’s piney and a little sweet, but it has almost no nose. (Those of you who have seen me in profile know that this does NOT apply to me.) It’s rather one-dimensional, uninteresting in color, and and has an aftertaste of straw. On the other hand, it has decent carbonation.

I give it 1 out of 5 stars.