The First Beer

Beer.

I never thought I would become the sort that would talk about beer in the same way that most people talk about wine.  In fact, no less than a decade ago, I would never believe that I would enjoy the taste of beer.

It was foul, bitter, watery, and just not pleasant to drink.  I drank at parties, but stuck to vodka tonics.

Then, one summer day, in a basement pool hall, I, for some reason, had a beer.  The first real beer.

I remember it pretty clearly.  It didn’t look like other beers.  Instead of being yellow and pale, the beer had a rich dark color to it.  It looked substantial.  It looked considerably different from the other beers that I had known in my life.  The Budweisers, the MGDs that I watched downed by restaurant patrons, at ball games, at parties.

No, this was a Rogue Dead Guy, off the tap at Atomic Billiards.  It was just on the tip of sweet, with a distinct flavor.  I grew to like it, the way that it would start sweet, then fade to a bitter that disappeared clean.

After that was Guinness, and while not sweet, there was a definite ease of drinking that came with it.

Since then, I’ve grown to appreciate other types of beers.  Hefeweisens, white ales, barleywine, ultra hopped–I may not have enjoyed them all, but I would definitely taste them.

Ultimately, I think that my beer of choice falls into the Imperial Pale Ale category, although the types of beers that I enjoy in this category really aren’t all that pale.

Go figure.