Music and beer have gone together for ages.  In fact, many of the old hymns you may sing in your churches actually credit their music to old pub and drinking songs of the middle ages and earlier. And how many epic love songs were written after a few beers got the artist thinking introspectively?

The song you are listening to right now (which just oozes of pure awesomeness) I actually downloaded from some random MySpace music page back before the mighty empire of myspace tumbled.  I wish I could attribute some credit to the artists, whose names are “Scott and Jimmy,” but the MySpace page has long since vanished. It’s too bad.

Many a time I have sat down at my guitar and tried to compose a sonnet as lovely as “The Answer Is Beer,” but have always come up short. I hope to someday compose a song of such beauty. When I do, you will be the first to know?

Do you like the song? Have you written an ode to out beloved beverage?

“Though the question isn’t clear, the answer, is beer.”

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Andrea and I run.  We try to exercise and take good care of ourselves, so we find ourselves running around town.  Often times, when we are not running at the Rose Bowl, we jog to the park where I can do pull-ups and the like.  I never thought that I’d see some abstract and somewhat ridiculous art while running–but there I was.

Lap 1:  I see what looks like an old guy in a diaper with wings on his back standing behind a woman in a dress, who is sitting on a bench with a man beside her and a dog on her lap.  Meanwhile, the photographer is taking a picture of the scene.  Already this was strange because it was maybe more surreal that most things I’ve seen (even during my days of hallucination).  I happened to be listening to Helter Skelter while I was running, too…that didn’t help me from feeling like was tripping.

Lap 2:  I thought I had a better handle on the picture when I passed the second time.  The old man had a bow and arrow…ah!  He was cupid, but why was he old?  It must be old cupid shooting the man and the woman so that they’d fall in love.  Right?!

Lap 3:  I saw the peanut butter come out.  Apparently, the peanut butter was being placed on the cheek of the woman. Why?  I figured that out when I saw the dog going to town on the cheek of the young lady.  Was the picture getting clearer or more convoluted?

Lap 4:  I gave up trying to figure out what was going on so I just decided what the scene meant.  Apparently, love (or cupid) is old/old-fashioned.  Love has missed its mark and created the oddest of situations in which the owner and pet have a love relationship (what’s happening with the rest of that peanut butter?).

Is this just some random mumbling?  I suppose it is in a way, but it did get me thinking about beer.  Whenever I drink a beer one time, it’s immediately approachable.  The more “laps” I take on the beer, the more I get it.  Beer just isn’t one of those abstractions.  It’s accessible, meaningful, and not enigmatic.  As a bonus, no dogs have to lick your face for you to say something meaningful about your brew.  Thank God that beer is not abstract.  Can you imagine how painful it might be to try to keep pace with the example above?

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While dwelling on this quirky bunch of social progressives, my mind couldn’t resist wandering into beer world.  This happens to me at least 20 times a day.  I began considering the fact that perhaps there needs to be an “Elders of Beer” coalition.  Just as our Elders of Earth battle crimes to humanity in the here and now, surely there needs to be a coalition of beer elders to combat poor beer choice across the globe.  Besides, the space age is rapidly approaching.  According to Richard Dawkins, “…the likelihood is that, in 100,000 years time, we shall either have reverted to wild barbarism, or else civilisation will have advanced beyond all recognition–into colonies in outer space…”  Beer Geeks, we must have a representative body to ensure the existentence of quality beer when we live amongst the stars!

Unlike our earth elders, beer elders should be nominated democratically.  Who do you think should be on the Panel of the Elders of Beer?  What brewers stand out amongst the rest?  What beer critiques, authors, or journalists should make the list?  Seriously.  We want to know.  Who would you want to represent better beer?  Perhaps these guys?

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With out further ado…stereotype this guy:

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10. Neanderthal like Coors Light consumers were caught launching cans of the “Silver Bullet” at obsessed fans of the movie Twilight, fearing them to be actual vampires.  The company feared lawsuits.  Fortunately, no goths were hurt in the incidents.

9. Clever marketing.  Any press is good press.  Brittany Spears shaved her head, John and Kate Plus Eight parade their divorce across The Learning Channel, Sinéad O’Connor tore up a photo of the Pope, and MillerCoors “recalled” beer.

8. Someone forgot to urinate in the this particular batch.  Dang!

7. A disgruntled employee replaced the “r” in “Coors” with an “n” on all of one particular shipment of cans.   Fearing racial discrimination lawsuits, the company had no choice but to bite the bullet and dump profit.

6. A pipe routing mistake actually filled the cans with Miller Light.  The megolomaniacal company did not want their loyal brainwashed consumers to get too big for their britches after indulging in the fancy triple hopped delight mistakenly pumped into their cans.

5. A rogue brew master saw the light.  He was converted by a humble evangelistic beer blog.  One sip of that forbidden craft fruit and he had to forsake his Big-Brew collar.  To make penance for the past 25 years of false beer doctrine, the once faithful Coors Light Doctor of the Faith sacrificed his pension and gave a false executive order to recall a heretical beer that could pervert the palates of hundreds of gas station beer shoppers nation wide.  A hero.  A martry.  A saint.

4. Someone higher up in the chain of command at MillerCoors suffers from Histrionic Personality Disorder, otherwise known as “whoa is me” syndrome in which the inflicted can only find peace when chaos, pain, and sympathy engulf there life.  The “good” news that MillerCoors sales were up despite an economy gasping for air was just too much for this wacko to handle.  In order to accommodate his/her inner drama queen the recall was created, a twitter was sent, sympathy flooded in, and inner peace was restored to this individual.

3. A chemical flaw in the “cold activated can” pioneered by the brewing giant actually sported a red mountain when refrigerated.  Confused and thirsty low-brow consumers began flooding the company with complaints after many burst cans and messy microwave ovens.

2.The recall was legitimate.  A MillerCoors executive purchased a sixer of the tainted malt beverage, and discovered the batch had a foreign ingredient:  Flavor.  He called the brewery immediately.  The order was sent.  “You’re all fired!” he raged, “This beer does not taste like water, you idiots!”

1. Otherworldly visitors who have sacrificed muscle mass, reproductive organs, and taste buds for more brain mass and computing power,  traversed the galaxies and abducted the 16 wheeler containing the so called “recalled batch of beer” in order to perform cruel tests upon human lab rats aboard their mother ship.  Under pressure from the CIA, MillerCoors concocted the story in return for years of beverage contracts at future inaugural balls and parties.

DISCLAIMER:  This is satire.  If you frequently indulge in Coors Light and find yourself offended, please substitute any other beer variety at your discretion at each place “Coors Light” appears in this article.

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The group that I find to be particularly good at acting are people in commercials. Don’t laugh, I’m being serious. I have a certain group in mind when I say the above. Namely, I’m referencing those actors who are used in the big brewery beer commercials. Think about it: they are selling an inferior product and doing a good job at it. Does anybody recognize “drinkability,” “less filling,” or a certain Jet song from these commercials? Packaging is everything, apparently.

I can only believe that these burgeoning soap opera actors are destined for future greatness. Who else could pretend to think that Bud Light actually tastes good? That is acting. Admittedly, I have never possessed that quality of performance skills and it takes a real liar to pull it off.

Okay, so they pretend to like a terrible product. But they are such good actors that they convince much of the general population that they, the viewers themselves, like the beer, too. Consider this: how many people have taken their cue from these modern day Shakespearean actors? Their acting is so penetrating, so incisive, so absolute, that it rubs off on people. The drinkers themselves begin to pretend liking the beer. Who wouldn’t want the skill to bend people’s will?

I’ve often watched Saturday Night Live and seen co-actors crumble under the hilarity of Chris Farley. The guy is so funny that professionals can’t contain themselves. But none of these hold even a candle to the beer actors. Their product and farce is so laughable that one begins to wonder how they can keep from bursting in to uncontrollable convulsions. Yet they are steady and immovable objects, so great is their skill. The very fact that they are playing such a cosmic joke on the beer universe should bring them to tears with laughter.

Still, they hold true to their character of pretending that what they sell is not only palatable but superior. It’s like an adult selling a kid the flavor virtues that beets have over chocolate. Every adult knows the farce and does a poor job of establishing the very notion. This is not a problem for the beer actors. Why? Because they simply must be the best actors in the world!

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I’m always critical of the person who exclusively drinks macro beer. In fact, I can be critical of someone who drinks them with any regularity. Now that I work in a liquor store, I’ve observed a phenomenon. Mr. Regular comes in and buys the same old beer every time. He walks in and grabs Natural Light. He knows exactly where it’s at, how much it costs and has the exact change. “Put it in a bag,” he says. Who can blame him? I would hide it, too. What else can he be doing but hiding the fact that he bought worthless beer for the purpose of inebriation? It can’t be that he really believes that walking out a liquor store won’t be perceived as buying beer, so long as he has it in a bag. This article is not really about that; let people have bags if they want to feel fancy or do it out of habit. All I can say is that if variety is the spice of life, the same beer all the time is parsley.

How did you personally feel when I spoke of “Mr. Regular” a moment ago? I know that I feel critical. I think, “Why can’t you drink something better for something more than the purpose of inebriation?”  Maybe you even said, “Well, I drink Heineken, Corona, or whatever better brand.” I have a question for you: do you know right where the Heineken is, have the exact change, and won’t drink much else? On one level, better beer is better beer, so I don’t criticize someone’s choice of better beer.  Even if it’s something terrific: “Oh! I only drink Chimay.”  On the other hand, how is it any less zombie-like than to walk straight to a chosen beer without thinking about anything else? Have you “found” something and stuck with it come hell or high water?

The reason that I write this is because I’ve seen people doing this and thinking that somehow they are more enlightened than the Bud Light drinker. Maybe there is a sliver of enlightenment with the selection of better beer, but it still represents a narrow view of the beer world. Okay! I’m willing to concede that this person drinks two beers vs. one, but that’s still not so impressive. Is there not some level of inherent illogical approach to beer in this mindset? I think so, especially when the person is making fun of the Bud Light drinker. (Don’t get me wrong, I do my fair share of making fun, too.)

Let me clarify what I’m saying. I am not saying that if you have a “go to” beer, then I’m talking about you. I have a couple of beers that I go to if I don ‘t want have to think about the drink too much. I know the beer well, and it is good, so I enjoy drinking it on occasion. But for the most part, I’m always looking for a new beer. Notice that I didn’t say perfect beer. Perfection seems to me to be a fairly illusory concept, so I normally refrain from speaking about beer in those terms. We’ve said it before, beer is an experience. One that should not cease to be profoundly interesting. Who wants a boring and hackneyed existence? I know that I don’t. How about going out on a limb for something new?

So, here is my encouragement: don’t walk with your hand extended toward the beer that you always drink, no matter what that beer is. You look like a zombie going through the pre-programmed motions. Be a human with a brain that requires some cerebration. Check your zombie at the door and open up a door to a bright and colorful world of beer rather than the drab world of zombiedom.

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“Aaaaagggghhhh.”

That was me breathing a sigh of relief of not being guilted into heading down to the Hallmark shop to buy a card for my secretary (as if I had one) or reproduce a picture of my pooch for my vet simply to belong as a cog in mass consumerism.   Rather, it is a relief to participate in a holiday I believe in (not to be trumped by Christmas, Easter, or my wife’;s birthday, mind you!).

Yes, there are many holidays.  Too many in fact, but this one resonates, because someday Mike, myself, and many of you (Big Tex, for one) hope to be recognized as one of the 1500 craft brewers in the US, who daily struggle to work to produce a fine bubbly beverage that eases the burdens that have accumulated on the weary shoulders of Americas working class.  I for one, pledge to drink fine craft beer for the duration of this fine holiday, and I suggest you, dear reader, do the same.  Pouring a handcrafted, cool brew night after night for six consecutive days will be tough work, but gentlemen (and ladies?), we owe it to the beer.

This holiday is even more special, as I recently learned (via the Brookston Bulletin) that my favorite right-of-center political funny man took special note of our favorite week.  No, it wasn’t “The Sky Is Falling Glenn Beck” (he’s on the wagon, right?)…it was the most honorable, Stephen Colbert!  For your viewing pleasure, please enjoy the clip below with a cool glass of patriotic craft brew in hand! Cheers!

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I see some analogous things happening in the beer world. Luckily, this is not strictly true for everything. I’m not an iconoclast by any means when it comes to beer. However, I do like something new or a new spin on an old style. If I had a brewery, I think that I’d mix between making good versions of traditional styles, spins on old styles, and real boundary pushers. Some breweries, like AB, are making laughable “craft” beers, but they’re of no account to me. Taking an inferior and cheap recipe and ruining people’s idea of a world classic should be a criminal offense. Leinenkugel’s 1888 Bock…need I say more?

The real crime is that some people, let’s call them the teens from the example above, are completely ignorant of the original artist (so to speak) or at least a really good cover-band. But a person who has had the real deal can always tell a fake. It’s akin to putting a cubic zirconium in front of a diamond dealer. The jig is up before it begins.

This is really a call to arms for my fellow beer drinkers and brewers. Let’s spread awareness that these remade, rehashed, regurgitated beers are simply ersatz examples of the classic styles that we’ve come to know and love. Let’s tell them that Rolling Rock is not a Pale Ale. No matter how extra it is, it pales in comparison. Share a good beer with a friend, and together we can end the bad remakes once and for all.

What other bad versions of a good style can you think of?

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With out further ado…stereotype these guys:

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