Once upon a time, there was beer. And beer was made by big beer companies in places like St. Louis and Milwaukee and Newark and we knew the names of the beer and we knew how the beer tasted and we drank the beer that our friends drank. And the world was good.
And if we got bored by beer, or we had extra money to spend or were feeling adventurous, there was imported beer. Imported beer was different; sometimes darker, richer, heavier, exotic. Imported beer made us feel good about ourselves; we were clearly more sophisticated than our parents, who just drank beer.
And then came ‘lite’ beer, with funny commercials and promises of ‘less filling’ or ‘tastes great’. Now we could drink beer and not worry about getting fat. And we knew it was good because large men drank it and former professional athletes promoted it and it was less expensive than imported beer, and although is was less exotic than imported beer, it made us feel good about ourselves. And the world was good.
Or so we thought. However, the world was changing. Some of us continued to drink imported beer and wondered why those types of beer weren’t available locally. Others experimented with home brewing, cheese making and beekeeping. And still others looked to their past and discovered ancestors that made beer…interesting beer. Unique beer. Historically significant beer. And from these threads, gossamer thin though they might have been, a revolution was born.
They came from the untamed west, this new, this craft beer, where convention was shunned. And the rest of us tasted them and found them to be good, with fuller flavors and deeper colors. And they were rare and difficult to find, and we liked that as well, as it made us feel good about ourselves. We were the few, the early adopters, the pioneers. And then, they came from the north, and the south, and then from everywhere and we learned a new language. IPA, Cascade hops, IBU and bottom fermentation, among other words, became the codes necessary to gain entry into this new, strange, world of beer. And the world was even better than before.
And now? The world has been remade, with unusual and exotic and delightful beer crafted by men with beards and flannel shirts and work boots arriving from every village and town and hamlet. A river, nay, an ocean of beer! Beer made in pubs, in garages, in abandoned factories. Beers made with fruits and vegetables, with spices and coffee and chocolate, rested in barrels and aged in casks. Beers for autumn or summer, to drink now or for later. And still they come.
And the big beer companies, even bigger than before, have looked upon the new world and thought that it was good. And they said, well done, bearded men! Have some of our riches, join with us on our quest for world beer domination! We’ll give you fields of hops and silos of grain and more money than you ever imagined. And your beer, so unique and exuberant and rare, will become one with us and available always and no one will ever know again who made that beer or from whence it came. And no one will care. And the world will be good again.
The End