As I have grown older, I am slowly losing my taste for a cold beer. I still appreciate enjoying a “good“ (Notice the quotation marks. I will explain that a little later.) beer with a good meal. My days of sitting down and slugging down endless beers while enjoying the game or after a round of golf with my buddies are over. I can hear the crying at St. James Gate in Dublin (home of Guinness) as we speak…wait, it’s turned to wailing. Wow, was my drinking that bad?
I was a good boy when I was a teenager. I never slipped off with my friends to steal away a beer or two. Not saying that one of my many brothers did when he could. (If you are reading this, you know who you are). Why was I such a responsible teenager? Simple, I was very afraid of my father. He once told my brothers and I that if we were ever arrested, be happy there are bars between us. He was a loving and not abusive father. He was also stern…and believable. I didn’t want to tempt fate to find out if he was serious. So, when my dad handed me a beer when I was home on my first leave from the service, and I was still under age, I almost fainted. That would have been a sight. Passing out before drinking the beer.
I was able to make it back home for a 3-day pass, mainly to get my laundry done. While I was sitting visiting with my dad and older brother, who had just been discharged from the Navy, my dad brought three beers into the family room and handed one to my brother, then me and sat down with the third. For him, this was a passage into manhood. His rule was, no underage drinking unless you were serving your country. Was this my first beer, of course not. That was just a few weeks before when our basic training class was given a day off to celebrate Armed Forces Day, like that really mattered to us. It was a day off from torture. We were dropped off at a tent with wash tubs filled with Olympia and Rainier beer. Those were the local beers in Washington State where I was doing my basic training. It was also the first time I got drunk. There’s no drinking age in the service and while I was in, it was encouraging. I remember going into mess halls when I was stationed in Texas, where I could pop a quarter in a vending machine which delivered a beer to enjoy with lunch if that’s what I wanted. The same with smokes, which were as cheap as 20¢ a pack, but that is a discussion for another time.
It took us a while to drink enough beer to get blasted considering both Olympia and Rainier beers are both canned carbonated water with a touch of alcohol. This was the beginning of my life of drinking beer.
When I first started drinking beer, quantity was more important than quality. Even though I was drinking a lot of beer when I did drink, I was responsible. I never tried to drive under the influence. Considering I never owned a car while in the service helped. I also limited it to the evenings and not during the day. Even though there was beer available at lunch, I never had one. It wasn’t because I was enlightened. Hey, I was 20 years old. I was stupid just like any 20 year old given the opportunity to drink. If I had a drink at lunch, I would have slept through all the afternoon classes I was taking to become a medic. The result of that was having to repeat the class and being stuck in the central Texas heat for another 8 weeks. I guess I wasn’t stupid after all (Have you ever been to central Texas in August? I heard the devil went down to Georgia because it was so hot).
As I moved from post to post while serving, my drinking habits changed. While stationed in Georgia, I barely drank at all. What drove me to curb my beer intake? While stationed there, the Army quit paying me. Some excuse about the records depot in Indianapolis burning down. Mine and many others’ pay records were gone. So, I was a bit short on funds to the point where I actually ate in the mess hall instead of at the snack bar at the bowling alley. That was just below stealing scraps of food from a stray dog.
After Georgia, I was sent to Germany, the home of real beer and Oktoberfest. For a guy who was drafted, I hit the lottery. I spent the last year of my tour in Germany. It was beautiful, the people were mostly friendly and I became a beer snob.
Even though I was only receiving a stipend instead of a regular paycheck, I was able to scrape a few Deutsch Marks together to enjoy some German beer. I was instantly spoiled. The beer tasted good. American beer began to taste like a can full of chemicals. Now, I was very particular about the beer I drank and if it wasn’t up to my new standards, I would pass. I might have started wearing a tuxedo to have a beer but there was that whole not getting paid thing squelched that.
I brought my beer snootiness back home with me when I got discharged. As always, I was low on money and the beer I really liked was now imported, so it cost more and I didn’t drink much. While a disappointment for my taste buds, a bonus for my liver.
Over the years I have refined my beer drinking even more. I have moved towards the dark, heavy malted beers like stouts, dark ales and porters. I have grown to hate anything that adds some kind of flavor or has the word “wheat” in the name. While IPAs are all the rage now, I can not bring myself to drink one. They are so sour, they taste as if they are spoiled!
I have settled on Guinness Extra Stout as my favorite beer. Not the draft, the one in the small bottle. The Guinness draft is a close second. I will try different dark beers when I am out and about.
The only time I enjoy a beer now is when my wife and I go out for a nice dinner. This is where I get back to the word “good” that I referenced in the first paragraph. I have become such a great sewer…oops, sorry… I meant a connoisseur of beer, that I like pairing a good beer with my meals. I might go with something light, like a lager or pilsner with fish or chicken. Sometimes a beer with more body when having red meats and the real malty, dark brews with sausage, pizzas, etc. I know all you wine snobs out there had your heart skip a beat. You guys haven’t cornered the market on being highfalutin while drinking yourself blind.
How my body reacts to beer has also changed over time. When I was young I was able to pound down one beer after another all night long but nowadays, I have one beer, I want to roll up in a ball and take a nap. I’m starting to think that I may be allergic to beer because my belly swells if I drink too much of it.
Did you know the Egyptians drank beer? That might explain why those huge buildings they built ended up with a point at the top instead of being squared off.
I would like to add one thing. I have never drunk beer and then tried to drive. It scares me what I might do behind the wheel of a car after a couple of beers. Just recently, near my house, a woman hit two children crossing the street in a crosswalk and killed them. She was over the legal limit and this wasn’t the first time. The lady is well off and considered a pillar of the community. Her recklessness devastated a family of six who were out on a walk. There are so many ways you can enjoy a drink or two without climbing behind the wheel of a car and becoming a danger to the community. Please, be responsible and don’t drink and drive. Think of these two small boys and what these parents lost in the blink of an eye.
©2020 BBRiley.net
bbriley.net 