Wednesday, December 06, 2006
On Beer
My first beer was a Miller Genuine Draft can, enjoyed in my family's living room (at the time), when no one was home one warm summer evening many years ago. That was about near the end of my dad's MGD phase. As long as I have known him, there have been three phases to his beer-drinking:
Phase 1: The Early Years
My lasting memory is the action of opening the refrigerator and dully noticing a number of cans of Jacob's Best at the back of a lower shelf. There always seemed to be a healthy supply of ol' JB in the house. This was approximately from 1980-1985. Since I don't believe I've ever jumped on the JB train, I have found the following descriptions online:
"Jacob best is very inexpensive. Purchased at JR’s in Rochester. Nothing different from your typical pale yellow fizzy american beer. Cost was about 30 cents per 12 oz can. Drink it cold."
"We threw a rager and bought a case of this as a joke. It was watery at first, but then made me gag. Not good, but cheap. I’ll buy it for a party and let drunk people drink it."
"Abandoned in my fridge by a houseguest. Pours lemon yellow, very clear and very pale. Initially attractive white head is gone in under a minute. Dull aromas of sulphur and hot grass, sweet corn and maybe some Belgian spiciness? Hop aroma, perhaps? Flavor is lightly sweet, raw corn juice and steamed carrots, and softly carbonated Sprite. Actually, it reminds me of a sip of Zima I tried once. Body is round and light, but not watery. Semi-dry finish with grainy and sugary aftertaste. Far superior flavor to Budweiser. A beer for white Zinfandel drinkers."
Even though you may not have tried it...you get the idea. I think Jacob's Best is an accurate picture of the household during my younger years.
Phase 2: The MGD Years
A sea change arrived in 1986 with the Miller Genuine Draft "cold-filtered" ad campaign. Oh, how my pop loved to order an MGD at a restaurant! He first had to ask if they had it: "Do you carry the cold-filtered Miller Genuine Draft?" He had to give the complete description. We weren't dealing with any frickin High Life here. And he spoke it with such enthusiasm -- with absolutely no knowledge that this was soon to become Miller's flagship beer -- the new minimum wage standard for all beer-buyers smart enough to avoid Bud, but . . . that's it.
The MGD years were good to us. They marked my dad's move from cans to bottles (although he would insist on pouring it into a glass), and they saw us out of the 80s.
Phase 3: Dad Gets on the MicroBrew Wagon
I think this phase began in the mid-90s. My guess is about '95 or so. There was a little more income in the household than in previous years. He could splurge a bit. He began to notice Leinenkugels and New Glarus. Of course he went to school in Stevens Point, so I'm sure he was long aware of the joys of smaller breweries. Then again, Point's specialty beers are a bit . . . iffy, so I can understand why that didn't remain his constant from college, forward. (Nevertheless, one must note how curious it was for him to move from Point all the way down the quality ladder to Jacob's Best -- this I've never been able to figure out.) But it was his discovery of Lakefront Brewery that changed everything for him.
By God, they were local -- he could support the local brand! And they had variety! Not to mention, consistent quality from top-down!
So now when I go to the folks' house, there is always some offering of Lakefront in the fridge. And that's fine. I'm happy with the move forward from the early 80s. Lakefront is nothing to be ashamed of. Very good beer, indeed. I just wish he'd branch out a little bit. He gets so into certain beers, and he's just IMMOVABLE. I mean his mind is set on those beers. I can't for the life of me get the guy to purchase Leinie's Red or any of the amazing Berghoff varieties. I finally snuck my great beer of choice into his house several weeks ago, and I know that it's still sitting in his fridge. I know he hasn't touched it.
And I don't want to bring down Lakefront at all -- I really don't, because they do a great job. I actually love one of their beers which is not available in bottles -- the Fat Abbey. It's awesome. And I think they make a pretty good Pumpkin. I like their White Bier. But overall . . . it's not even the best beer made in southeastern Wisconsin.
But, what can I say? The guy won't be moved from his drink of choice. At this point, I would wager that phase 3 is it for my dad. I could be wrong, but if he moves into a phase 4, I think that would be like wine or brandy or something other than beer.
My first bar was at age 18 -- RC's on North Ave here in Mill City. I was also snuck into another bar that night full of punks with spikes in leather, but I don't remember much of that one, and it has long since closed down. I was also dragged to Steny's late in the night, and subsequently told: "Stay on this side of the street. The other side of the street is for left-handed hitters." Not bad for one's first night at the establishments: one bar for each year I was under the legal limit. All courtesy of my employment at one Antonio's Upper Crust Pizza, which was run by the greatest bunch of alcoholics I've ever met.
My worst hangover was my fifth year in school. It wasn't because of liquor mixed with beer or anything stupid. It wasn't because of low tolerance, or sickness. I had about 25 dark beers -- all Guiness, Sprecher or Berghoff -- over the course of an evening, then woke up on about 6 hours of sleep to run a 12-miler (I think). I made it 5 miles before slumping to the side of the road and puking. After an incredibly long and progressively slower jog home, I subsequently puked about the same number of times as beers I drank the night before. I felt bad about it because I went on this run because it was to be the last time I would see a friend of mine for a long time, as he was moving out of state . . . but I couldn't even keep up during the run. Around 7PM that night I told myself that if there was still blood in my next puke I should take myself to the hospital. Luckily, that was the final trip to the bathroom -- it was all out of me.
It would take a few more years for me to learn, but eventually I got it all out of my system. Since 2003, I can think of only one bachelor party and a couple outings with a friend named Breezy in which I drank more than two beers at a sitting. It was key for me to be able to get a handle on quantity so that I could enjoy the quality again. And I have to admit, it's nice to have more than two in a sitting, but that's only for the great once in a while now. That's why it's key to have a friend like Breezy. I recommend everyone have a friend like Breezy, and I know that's hard to envision, seeing as most of my readers don't know him. But you know his name, and that's a big start. I think it's key for people to be able to sit down and not worry about social bullshit. To just enjoy beer, music and conversation. So often during my time in the establishments, there is a call for the group to hit a meat market. It's always been my thought that if one cannot appreciate the simple pleasures of drink, song and conversation because of a delirious need to get laid, the hell with 'em. The bars are no place to meet women anyway. Breezy can appreciate a fine brew and carry a conversation -- and you don't even have to agree with him all the time. That's a real point of contention for me. A lot of friends struggle with this -- they both have to agree on anything, or if there is disagreement, they have to fight out every last detail -- a real big dramatic extravaganza. Sometimes you just have to say "you're crazy", and call it even. No big explanation. No summarization. No meeting of the minds. Just a mutual understanding set to good music and maybe a decent boxing match on TV. Aside from that, if anyone is looking for a Breezy, I recommend they find someone very open-minded, as well as laid-back. Don't pressure him. He doesn't need your guilt trip about what to do with his life, and where he lives or when he's finishing school, or all that bullshit. He's there in a pinch when needed, which is more than can be said of a lot of overachievers. He has people skills. He's more than traffic and weather. That's what I recommend you look for. And once you've found him, I recommend an establishment with character and selection.
My current beer of choice is, surprisingly enough, is a Miller brew. It's seasonal, so I'll have to pick up a bunch of it when the season ends. It's tasty. Just the right flavor balance. A real fine night-capper, which is about where I'm at . . . .
Phase 1: The Early Years
My lasting memory is the action of opening the refrigerator and dully noticing a number of cans of Jacob's Best at the back of a lower shelf. There always seemed to be a healthy supply of ol' JB in the house. This was approximately from 1980-1985. Since I don't believe I've ever jumped on the JB train, I have found the following descriptions online:
"Jacob best is very inexpensive. Purchased at JR’s in Rochester. Nothing different from your typical pale yellow fizzy american beer. Cost was about 30 cents per 12 oz can. Drink it cold."
"We threw a rager and bought a case of this as a joke. It was watery at first, but then made me gag. Not good, but cheap. I’ll buy it for a party and let drunk people drink it."
"Abandoned in my fridge by a houseguest. Pours lemon yellow, very clear and very pale. Initially attractive white head is gone in under a minute. Dull aromas of sulphur and hot grass, sweet corn and maybe some Belgian spiciness? Hop aroma, perhaps? Flavor is lightly sweet, raw corn juice and steamed carrots, and softly carbonated Sprite. Actually, it reminds me of a sip of Zima I tried once. Body is round and light, but not watery. Semi-dry finish with grainy and sugary aftertaste. Far superior flavor to Budweiser. A beer for white Zinfandel drinkers."
Even though you may not have tried it...you get the idea. I think Jacob's Best is an accurate picture of the household during my younger years.
Phase 2: The MGD Years
A sea change arrived in 1986 with the Miller Genuine Draft "cold-filtered" ad campaign. Oh, how my pop loved to order an MGD at a restaurant! He first had to ask if they had it: "Do you carry the cold-filtered Miller Genuine Draft?" He had to give the complete description. We weren't dealing with any frickin High Life here. And he spoke it with such enthusiasm -- with absolutely no knowledge that this was soon to become Miller's flagship beer -- the new minimum wage standard for all beer-buyers smart enough to avoid Bud, but . . . that's it.
The MGD years were good to us. They marked my dad's move from cans to bottles (although he would insist on pouring it into a glass), and they saw us out of the 80s.
Phase 3: Dad Gets on the MicroBrew Wagon
I think this phase began in the mid-90s. My guess is about '95 or so. There was a little more income in the household than in previous years. He could splurge a bit. He began to notice Leinenkugels and New Glarus. Of course he went to school in Stevens Point, so I'm sure he was long aware of the joys of smaller breweries. Then again, Point's specialty beers are a bit . . . iffy, so I can understand why that didn't remain his constant from college, forward. (Nevertheless, one must note how curious it was for him to move from Point all the way down the quality ladder to Jacob's Best -- this I've never been able to figure out.) But it was his discovery of Lakefront Brewery that changed everything for him.
By God, they were local -- he could support the local brand! And they had variety! Not to mention, consistent quality from top-down!
So now when I go to the folks' house, there is always some offering of Lakefront in the fridge. And that's fine. I'm happy with the move forward from the early 80s. Lakefront is nothing to be ashamed of. Very good beer, indeed. I just wish he'd branch out a little bit. He gets so into certain beers, and he's just IMMOVABLE. I mean his mind is set on those beers. I can't for the life of me get the guy to purchase Leinie's Red or any of the amazing Berghoff varieties. I finally snuck my great beer of choice into his house several weeks ago, and I know that it's still sitting in his fridge. I know he hasn't touched it.
And I don't want to bring down Lakefront at all -- I really don't, because they do a great job. I actually love one of their beers which is not available in bottles -- the Fat Abbey. It's awesome. And I think they make a pretty good Pumpkin. I like their White Bier. But overall . . . it's not even the best beer made in southeastern Wisconsin.
But, what can I say? The guy won't be moved from his drink of choice. At this point, I would wager that phase 3 is it for my dad. I could be wrong, but if he moves into a phase 4, I think that would be like wine or brandy or something other than beer.
My first bar was at age 18 -- RC's on North Ave here in Mill City. I was also snuck into another bar that night full of punks with spikes in leather, but I don't remember much of that one, and it has long since closed down. I was also dragged to Steny's late in the night, and subsequently told: "Stay on this side of the street. The other side of the street is for left-handed hitters." Not bad for one's first night at the establishments: one bar for each year I was under the legal limit. All courtesy of my employment at one Antonio's Upper Crust Pizza, which was run by the greatest bunch of alcoholics I've ever met.
My worst hangover was my fifth year in school. It wasn't because of liquor mixed with beer or anything stupid. It wasn't because of low tolerance, or sickness. I had about 25 dark beers -- all Guiness, Sprecher or Berghoff -- over the course of an evening, then woke up on about 6 hours of sleep to run a 12-miler (I think). I made it 5 miles before slumping to the side of the road and puking. After an incredibly long and progressively slower jog home, I subsequently puked about the same number of times as beers I drank the night before. I felt bad about it because I went on this run because it was to be the last time I would see a friend of mine for a long time, as he was moving out of state . . . but I couldn't even keep up during the run. Around 7PM that night I told myself that if there was still blood in my next puke I should take myself to the hospital. Luckily, that was the final trip to the bathroom -- it was all out of me.
It would take a few more years for me to learn, but eventually I got it all out of my system. Since 2003, I can think of only one bachelor party and a couple outings with a friend named Breezy in which I drank more than two beers at a sitting. It was key for me to be able to get a handle on quantity so that I could enjoy the quality again. And I have to admit, it's nice to have more than two in a sitting, but that's only for the great once in a while now. That's why it's key to have a friend like Breezy. I recommend everyone have a friend like Breezy, and I know that's hard to envision, seeing as most of my readers don't know him. But you know his name, and that's a big start. I think it's key for people to be able to sit down and not worry about social bullshit. To just enjoy beer, music and conversation. So often during my time in the establishments, there is a call for the group to hit a meat market. It's always been my thought that if one cannot appreciate the simple pleasures of drink, song and conversation because of a delirious need to get laid, the hell with 'em. The bars are no place to meet women anyway. Breezy can appreciate a fine brew and carry a conversation -- and you don't even have to agree with him all the time. That's a real point of contention for me. A lot of friends struggle with this -- they both have to agree on anything, or if there is disagreement, they have to fight out every last detail -- a real big dramatic extravaganza. Sometimes you just have to say "you're crazy", and call it even. No big explanation. No summarization. No meeting of the minds. Just a mutual understanding set to good music and maybe a decent boxing match on TV. Aside from that, if anyone is looking for a Breezy, I recommend they find someone very open-minded, as well as laid-back. Don't pressure him. He doesn't need your guilt trip about what to do with his life, and where he lives or when he's finishing school, or all that bullshit. He's there in a pinch when needed, which is more than can be said of a lot of overachievers. He has people skills. He's more than traffic and weather. That's what I recommend you look for. And once you've found him, I recommend an establishment with character and selection.
My current beer of choice is, surprisingly enough, is a Miller brew. It's seasonal, so I'll have to pick up a bunch of it when the season ends. It's tasty. Just the right flavor balance. A real fine night-capper, which is about where I'm at . . . .
