Beer O’Clock

(Photo by TBF)

Dear Readers, technically I should have posted this blog last Saturday, April 7th.

That was National Beer Day.

ICYMI.

I probably would have missed it, too.  But for the past two and a half years, I have heard more about beer than I ever did in my entire Yuengling-free life.

That’s because TBF is a certified beer nut.

He’s simply mad about the stuff.

My personal history with the beverage that made Milwaukee famous was extremely limited.  I have never tasted it and never wanted to.

My dad, on the other hand, really enjoyed a cold beer on a hot day at the ball park.  But I never remember him having a six pack of anything in our refrigerator other than Coke.

My brother Kenny used to mimic my dad’s one-a-day-once-in-awhile brewski habits.  (Although of late, he has stopped having even one beer.  He’s had to stay in baseball-ready shape.)

But before he went on the no-beer wagon, Kenny indulged in the occasional Miller Lite.

And when we’d go out to Aspen on a ski trip, he would go all out and have himself a Coors Silver Bullet.

Silver Bullet Sidebar: One night, Kenny and I were in a restaurant in Aspen eating dinner.  I was having my usual Diet Coke and Kenny was having a Silver Bullet.  The waiter came over and said, “Uh, that gentleman over at that table wants to buy you a beer.”

I was terribly pleased.  What a nice compliment from a total stranger.  I preened and smiled coyly.

“No, thanks,” I said.

“Not you,” the waiter replied.  “Him.“- pointing to Kenny.

Huh?

Turns out- after a little gender confusion- the guy was a Coors rep and whenever he saw somebody drinking one, he always sent over another bottle to him.

Kenny has never let me forget that vainglorious moment.

Unlike his uncle, my son Nick really likes his home-grown Seattle beer.  Washington state is the largest grower of hops in the country and the craft beer culture there is amazing.

A few years ago, when Kenny came out with me to do some business, visit old friends and catch up with his nephew, Nick proudly took him to…

The Beer Junction.

Stocking over 1300 kinds of beer, TBJ is Seattle’s largest bottle shop.

   

Kenny looked at the vast selection with calm indifference.  He thought it over carefully.  Finally, he said to our beer guru/customer service rep/bartender,

“Just give me the shittiest beer you have.”

The hops expert was crushed.  All his expertise was going down the bar sink.

“I think this is the worst beer we have,” he said sadly.  And handed Kenny a can that cost like eighty-five cents.

TBF is a horse of a completely different lager.  He knows what he likes.

Don’t even think about working him over to a trendy I.P.A.

Think DARK.

At Binny’s I have struck pure gold with choices of Ten Fidy and Old Rasputin.

And last August when TBF and I headed to Seattle for a baby shower, Nick had a much more educated beer palate at his disposal. While the ladies were enjoying a  gorgeous baby-to-be luncheon, he took TBF out on a brew pub crawl in the Ballard neighborhood.

I know they went to The Jolly Roger Taproom.

And Stoup Brewing Company.

Of course they had more fun than a beer barrel of moneys.

And when we rendez-vous’ed after the shower, TBF waxed enthusiastic about the local bar scene.

And the scenery.

“It’s interesting,” he noted.  “At least half the customers today were women.  Young women,” he approved.

Well, even if you’re like me and wouldn’t know a bold I.P.A. from a blonde Belgian ale, read this.

How To Talk Beer Like A Pro.

It’s never been a better time to be a beer drinker.

All hail Stella and Sam.

But as for me, I’m afraid I’ll always be more like this guy.