Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy — Benjamin Franklin
I’m a fan of beer. My protruding Prussian belly can attest to this fact. Pilsners, lagers, ales, stouts, even the occasional hefeweisen. Sign me up. Well, except for IPAs. You can keep those (“let’s see how much hops we can put in this and still not throw up!” sheesh…).
I tend to like foreign (i.e. non-American) beers more than domestic–especially if we’re talking about the usual suspects (Miller, Budweiser, etc.). In fact, my nickname for MGD is “Miller? God dammit…” But I also like microbrews and the quality brews from smaller operations (Shiner is a favorite, as is Abita). However, I do have the guilty pleasure of wanting to throw back Pabst Blue Ribbon from time to time. Some call me a beer snob. And that might be true. But I drink what I like because I’ve tried it and I like it. No other reason. So there…
So, yes. I’m thankful for beer. Not just for the alcoholic effects (which are nice), but I love the tastes. The variety. Plus, my love of beer has enabled me to converse knowledgeably with people around the world (via the interwebz) on the subject. Beer helps people connect. Globalization by beer is my dream of a brighter future.
Beer. Foamy. MMMmmm.
I didn’t always feel that way. When I was a kid my dad would have me fetch his Coors from the fridge because he knew I wasn’t going to drink it along the way. The same couldn’t be said for my little brother. When I was small, I hated beer. Couldn’t stand it. I didn’t start drinking it until I was 21. And then I baby stepped my way through a rainbow of flavors to become the connoisseur I am today. My mom me told fairly recently why I developed my early hatred of the heavenly brew: apparently, as a wee lad, I woke up early one morning and tipped back a can that had been left out from the night before. Unfortunately, that can had been used as an ashtray. These things stick in the old subconscious.
Thank goodness I’ve gotten over that trauma.
So, beer. Thankful. Yes. Go out and have one today. You’ll thank me later.