Sounds like the industry is over a barrel.

FTFA: Head horseman Barry Petherick of Wadworth Brewery lifts a firkin into a pub in Devizes, Wiltshire.

There once was a man from Devizes
Who's balls were of two different sizes
The one was so small
'Twas no ball at all
But the other one won several prizes!

/I am so sorry- couldn't help myself.

That's okay. We've moved away from how things were, when a man's occupation served to not only put bread on his table and a roof over his head, but also defined his very place in the world. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. The Fletchers, Bowyers, Smiths, Coopers, Masons, Innskeeps, Crockers, Cohens, Drovers, Lederers, Ferriers, Sawyers, Porters, Slaters, Taskers, Tanners, Watermans, Wrights, Dockers, Brewsters, Vulcans, and their ilk have moved from narrowly defined worlds into the wide open, where possibility is bounded only by the imagination. And, beyond that, we've entered an exciting, an online world, where definitions of "self" can be custom-tailored, made and re-made and re-made again with each new account. So, while in my day-to-day life I may be just now be breaking free from years of suffering under the narrow constraints of being Mason McSlater or Harold Porter-Waterman, I can log online and become Pocket Ninja, a creature free of all expectations and outside influences, a miniature being of light and energy who floats effortlessly above such trivial preconceptions. Or UNC_Samurai, a noble and mighty warrior with a special fondness for bad baskebtall teams. Or MarshWoman, who spreads a dank and spongy cheer wherever she goes. My name becomes not who I am, but who I want to be. Asshat McBastard. King Douchenozzle von Crunk. Tits McGee. We are free of limits. We are boundless in our possibilities. We are extraordinary.

Pocket Ninja: The Fletchers, Bowyers, Smiths, Coopers, Masons, Innskeeps, Crockers, Cohens, Drovers, Lederers, Ferriers, Sawyers, Porters, Slaters, Taskers, Tanners, Watermans, Wrights, Dockers, Brewsters, Vulcans, Poopsmiths and their ilk have moved from narrowly defined worlds

FTFY

Like fletcher and thatcher before it, soon "cooper" will be just one more meaningless English last name

as long as feltcher retains its place in the lexicon, i'm not worried.

These things evolve. As the old names become just names, new ones, such as Currychef and Pagethreegirl become more descriptive.

Tell it to the Smiths.

/Fortunately, there will always be a Douchebag in Parliament.

Hi, my name's Richard Ram.

My last name seems to be from an archaic Finnish word for the amount of certain grains that a specific amount of land would produce in a season. No wonder there's only 8 of us left.

My last name is a foreign word for "fly". That's as in, "tiny annoying-ass insect", not "doing awesome acrobatic tricks in the sky." :(

My great great grandfather must've been a real dick.

He must be really scraping the bottom of the barrel to find new trainees.

Thank god we still have Felchers.

/rimshot

Pocket Ninja: (clip)...We are extraordinary.

Pocket Ninja:

You are Lain?

wyltoknow: My last name is a foreign word for "fly". That's as in, "tiny annoying-ass insect", not "doing awesome acrobatic tricks in the sky." :(

My great great grandfather must've been a real dick.

Mouche?

Daddy's Big Pink Man-Squirrel: Thank god we still have Felchers.

/rimshot

I came in for the felcher reference.

I leave a cleansed man.

A Ms. Maggie Thatcher would like a word with your subby.

I_C_Weener: A Ms. Maggie Thatcher would like a word with your subby.

Did she thatch things? I seem to have missed that part.

Adman12: Pocket Ninja: The Fletchers, Bowyers, Smiths, Coopers, Masons, Innskeeps, Crockers, Cohens, Drovers, Lederers, Ferriers, Sawyers, Porters, Slaters, Taskers, Tanners, Watermans, Wrights, Dockers, Brewsters, Vulcans, Poopsmiths and their ilk have moved from narrowly defined worlds

FTFY

Hear hear!

I can tell you this ancient craft hasn't died out in Wales. Well at least around Cardiff.

The UK imports a lot of liquor barrels from the US.

And Farker?

Roger the Shrubber: Oh, what sad times are these when passing ruffians can say Ni at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land, nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design shrubberies are under considerable economic stress in this period in history.
King Arthur: Did you say shrubberies?
Roger the Shrubber: Yes, shrubberies are my trade. I am a shrubber. My name is Roger the Shrubber. I arrange, design, and sell shrubberies.

So far this is one of the most crack smoke-alicious threads I have ever read.

My name is Jonathan Databaseadministrator, and I approve of this message.

Winnie!

I sympathize.

I have been there---and done that.

In 1985, I worked to help build the last gasoline refinery ever built in the United States.

If you had told me back then there would never be another, I would have laughed in your face and asked what you had been smoking.

Yet stop to consider: I was proud that I had lived to see the first man walk on the moon---
but I NEVER thought I would live to see the LAST man walk on the moon.

Sad.

It used to be shiathouse!

FTFA: After all that time, a cask is not easily discarded. Simms can give it a second or third life by disassembling and rebuilding it as a smaller cask.

"So you're looking at somewhere between 190 and 215 years of life out of that timber. We've got this chuck-away culture we should get away from."

This is the true crux of the article. It's not that the wooden cask market is shrinking, but that everything is now becoming disposable and craftsmanship is slowly obliterated from the culture.

On the other hand, I do appreciate cheap, replaceable parts. Oh, to find a balance.

There are still plenty of smug white Americans giving their kids the first name Cooper. So it's got that going for it.

olddinosaur: I sympathize.

I have been there---and done that.

In 1985, I worked to help build the last gasoline refinery ever built in the United States.

If you had told me back then there would never be another, I would have laughed in your face and asked what you had been smoking.

Yet stop to consider: I was proud that I had lived to see the first man walk on the moon---
but I NEVER thought I would live to see the LAST man walk on the moon.

Sad.

The Chinese will be there soon, never fear. So if you don't croak in the next couple years, you'll see another.

The boy's name Farrell \f(a)-rre-ll\ is pronounced FARE-el. It is of Irish and Gaelic origin, and its meaning is "hero, man of courage".

Farrell has 7 variant forms: Farrel, Farrill, Farryll, Ferrel, Ferrell, Ferrill and Ferryl.

Well that name sure has lost its meaning. It now means lazy jackass.

Not much goin' on on the moon.

I wish we still used those names...Ms. Lydia Scrubwoman, Mr. Lionel Errandboy, Mrs. Fiona Bogwash.

But I guess those days are gone. Now we have to rely on new sources for people's names...Mr. Skyler Integragirl, Ms. Emma Brolsma, Mrs. Penelope Stuntaz, too name a few.

My wife is the German equivalent of "Carter". I am the Norman equivalent of "Guard".

Neither of our families has worked those professions in centuries. I take the suggestions from others. I think she is Ms. Chemist and I am Ms. Sysadmin.

/Kid will be Mr. Kicker?

REPEAT

Pocket Ninja

My name becomes not who I am, but who I want to be. Asshat McBastard. King Douchenozzle von Crunk. Tits McGee.

The girl who took my order at Wendy's today had a name tag that said TITSMCGEE.

I kid you not.

So, there's at least one of those out there, making burgers and taking food orders.

glad my name still means something. (check my profile)

Evil Canadian: My wife is the German equivalent of "Carter". I am the Norman equivalent of "Guard".

Neither of our families has worked those professions in centuries. I take the suggestions from others. I think she is Ms. Chemist and I am Ms. Sysadmin.

/Kid will be Mr. Kicker?

Very nice to meet you. My name is Mr. Awesome-in-a-threesome ;P

Windsor is pretty useless too....

The Slug and Lettuce? WTF...

Oh, by the way...I married my horse...

Regarding the refineries- they're adding sulpher units to two I know of in cali. The existing ones are growing, don't really need new ones.

Ronald Astronaut
Bernard Cableguy
Thomas Usedcarsalesman
and
Captain Captain

AppleDane:
Captain Captain

Major Major?

AppleDane: Ronald Astronaut
Bernard Cableguy
Thomas Usedcarsalesman
and
Captain Captain

I think you are forgetting Major Major Major Major.

Pocket Ninja: That's okay. We've moved away from how things were, when a man's occupation served to not only put bread on his table and a roof over his head, but also defined his very place in the world. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. The Fletchers, Bowyers, Smiths, Coopers, Masons, Innskeeps, Crockers, Cohens, Drovers, Lederers, Ferriers, Sawyers, Porters, Slaters, Taskers, Tanners, Watermans, Wrights, Dockers, Brewsters, Vulcans, and their ilk have moved from narrowly defined worlds into the wide open, where possibility is bounded only by the imagination. And, beyond that, we've entered an exciting, an online world, where definitions of "self" can be custom-tailored, made and re-made and re-made again with each new account. So, while in my day-to-day life I may be just now be breaking free from years of suffering under the narrow constraints of being Mason McSlater or Harold Porter-Waterman, I can log online and become Pocket Ninja, a creature free of all expectations and outside influences, a miniature being of light and energy who floats effortlessly above such trivial preconceptions. Or UNC_Samurai, a noble and mighty warrior with a special fondness for bad baskebtall teams. Or MarshWoman, who spreads a dank and spongy cheer wherever she goes. My name becomes not who I am, but who I want to be. Asshat McBastard. King Douchenozzle von Crunk. Tits McGee. We are free of limits. We are boundless in our possibilities. We are extraordinary.

Well that's all very romantic and all, up until you realise that none of us getting paid for all this fantasy role-playing.

My surname is Vaglicker.
I don't anticipate it becoming meaningless anytime soon.