My New Friend, The Beekeeper

Met my first official beekeeper yesterday. Pretty cool, eh? Never met one before, and I must admit I was a little surprised at how much I pre-judged em. Today's blog will set the record straight for all beekeepers. Dispel all that slanderous PR they've been getting.

Beekeepers are horribly pock-marked.
Not true. This beekeeper was actually quite handsome. Face was free from noticeable scarring.

Beekeepers wear their beekeeping outfit everywhere.
Again, this is simply not true. My beekeeper friend wore cotton denim jeans, a clean t-shirt, and surprisingly enough, no hood.

Beekeepers are either called "Bud" or "Zeek" or some other one-syllable name.
No, sir. My beekeeper answers to the name of Andrew. Twice the required number of syllables.

Beekeepers wear a scraggly white beard.
Nope. Clean shaven. He might even give the eyebrows the occassional tweeze.

Beekeepers have—at most—5 teeth.
From what I saw, his pearlies were in tact, and they seemed to be his original set.

A tractor is their sole means of transport.
Sorry folks, I pretty sure he drives a Hyundai Sonata or some other Korean jobbie.

Beekeepers despise ant farmers.
I didn't directly ask him this question, but I got the impression that he was quite tolerant of any kind of critter wrangler.

Beekeepers limp.
Andrew's gait was actually quite long and graceful.

Hope this cleared a few things up for ya, and maybe pollenated yer brain a bit.

I'm buzzin off to work now.

GM