Foaming at the Mouth About Craft Beer, by Joe Queenan (Wall Street Journal)
... Meanwhile, I sit there, meekly sipping my Diet Coke. I am an outcast at life's rich fest.
I used to be able to hold up my end in barroom conversations, because I knew a lot about sports. "What'd you think of the Cowboys running a double reverse on fourth and one Sunday?" I would ask. "Did you know that Barry Bonds has a career on-base percentage of .444?" "OK, which brothers hold the record for most career home runs? If you said 'the DiMaggios,' you guessed wrong." But that was back in the day when people in bars talked about sports. Now they talk about beer. Craft beer.
Lately I seem incapable of escaping from the kraftbierkulturkampf.
Wait: It's the Wall Street Journal, a Romneyite rag if ever there was (formerly) one.
But seriously: Queenan's a humorist of sorts, so I suppose he gets a pass. It's far better than that humorless guy from Pittsburgh a few years back.
Final thought: Humorous or serious, Queenan's point is well taken. It just can't come from a teetotaler. It ain't his gig, folks. Now, coming from someone like me -- an insider, not an outlier -- no, never mind. The use of Bud Light apart from pet shampoo simply isn't possible.
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