AMERICA, THE BREWTIFUL

Today is the motherflippin’ 4th of July. It’s the day we celebrate our flawless victory over those shifty Native Americans who tried to burn down the banks and brothels we built on top of their graveyards. Maybe that’s not exactly right, but I don’t need to know my history, dammit…I’m an American!

In the spirit of this great nation, I asked my fellow Alehead-Americans (all legal, of course…except for the Czar who has a forged work-visa) which beer made them proudest to be an American. Most of the Aleheads embodied that noblest of American traditions by being too damn lazy to answer. But a few responded. And here are those glorious, all-American answers. USA! USA!

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BROTHER BARLEY MCHOPS

No beer makes me prouder to be an American than Dogfish Head’s Pangaea. An ingredient from every contintent…including water from Antarctica? The Pangaea is a paean to wastefulness and utterly pointless marketing wankery. In other words, it’s the most American goddamn beer ever made. Such a beer could ONLY exist in these here United States. Plus, let’s not forget that in most countries Sam Calagione, Dogfish Head’s goofball CEO, would have been harvested for his vital organs and then fed to hyenas. But here he’s a pillar of the community and even has a highly successful rap career on the side.

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JIMMY HOPPA

No beer makes me more proud to be an American, specifically a Californian, than Anchor Steam Beer, from San Francisco’s own Anchor Brewing.  Back in the early 1970s, while St. Louis, Milwaukee and Golden were concerning themselves with developing the crime against humanity known as “light” beer and adding rice to everything that it shouldn’t be added to, Fritz Maytag was letting his freak flag fly, brewing a steam beer in one of the first and longest running craft breweries in America.  Apparently this craft beer thing caught on, as more and more independent breweries started opening up across the country, but it started here, in a small urine-soaked, disaster-prone city called San Francisco.  So the next time you are carrying on about how great it is wherever you live, just remember that California gave us avocados, most of the pornography out there, Michael Bay, and craft beer.  You’re welcome, America.

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KID CARBOY JR.

This is my most earnest and sickeningly sincere answer ever, but the beer that makes me proudest to be an American is the one I haven’t drunk yet. Each time I visit some beer festival in Chicago, it’s reinforced that some of the best beer out there right now is being made by humble homebrewers, five gallons at a time. It’s one of the very best things about the world of beer, as compared to something like wine–a hobbyist, in the confines of his own home, can make a product that is ultimately just as good as what is produced by a multimillion dollar corporation. And that hobbyist, if they can raise the capital, is afforded the opportunity to bring his beer to the masses. One must remember that pretty much every great brewmaster out there started as a homebrewer, making beers on the stovetop. That opportunity is essentially the American Beer Dream.

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SLOUCH SIXPACK

I’m an American Alehead.

I love guns.

I love pornography.

But most of all, I love craft beer.

Why? Cause it tastes good, dumbass.

And when Americans brew it, it tastes goodest of all.

You want bitter? We got the bitterest. Like Katie Holmes bitterest.

You want sour? We’ll pucker your ass cheeks with more lacto and pedio than a USDA convention.

Malt? Yeah, we got malt too.

What beer makes me proud to be an American? Why, the beer that hasn’t been brewed yet. Wait, that sounds like a candyass Kid Carboy answer. Belay my last.

Lagunitas Hop Stoopid.

Why? You got the sack to ask me why, private?

Cause it tastes good.  Cause it’s  bitter as fuck. Because it’s not balanced. Because it doesn’t make sense. Because it wouldn’t exist if Tony Magee didn’t agree to buy a bunch of Willamette hops he had exactly no use for. Because it’s a DIPA built around bittering hops. Because it misspells the word S-T-O-O-P-I-D. Because it’s the kind of beer, brewery, and American success story that make the terrorists hate us.

Fuck them, fuck the industry, do it yourself.

Happy 4th of July, Aleheads!

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What a perfect quartet of responses. Barley went cynical. Hoppa went historical. Carboy went with the shameless treacle. And Sixpack went all jingoistic on our asses. Add ‘em all up, and you’ve get yourself a heapin’ helpin’ of America. Now get out there and drink some American brews to celebrate our country’s founding, Alehead Nation. And try not to drunkenly blow your fingers off with fireworks!

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2 comments

  1. I’ll be the sap and pick Dale’s Pale Ale. Red, White, and Blue right on the can. My wife would pick PBR for some of the same reasons. It wouldn’t change her mind at all if I told her it was now owned by a Greek pickle magnate.

  2. I’m goin’ back for seconds on my heaping scoop of ‘MURICA.

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