My first few beers were probably some sort of now-discontinued Miller product (now that I think about it, it was a Miller Red) scavenged from the cooler of a parent’s New Years Eve gathering or liberated from a basement refrigerator somewhere, and then sipped without any enjoyment. “Barley? Hops? Water? What’s the appeal there? It just smells like spoiled bread! Find me some straight vodka!”
Over the past few years, I have traveled through the necessary steps of beer progress, and tell me if this sounds familiar. From the early days of cheap partykeg macrobrews through the “what can I afford” era of Busch Light galore, through to the epoch of “I wonder what this ‘porter’ stuff is like,” and through to present day where no IPA is too hoppy and no Flemish ale is too sour, no stout too hearty and no bitter too…well, bitter.
I have arrived at a place where I’m equally happy drinking a cellared Devil Dancer as I am enjoying a tallboy of High Life during the football game. Hopefully we provide a place here where beer snobbery is verboten, and a PBR has as much a place as a KBS. Bell’s Oberon is my happy place.
When not writing about or drinking fine American craft beers (among other things), I am a radio producer, podcast host, freelance writer, general bon vivant and raconteur, media guy and mild social media addict. If you have a second, you’re more than welcome to check out my personal website and my clips page with other examples of some of my work.