In an otherwise excellent piece considering whether woke clothing retailer Anthropologie will suffer a sales hemorrhage the way Bud Light has in the fallout from the Dylan Mulvaney scandal, Abigail Anthony went too far when she wrote: “I’m skeptical that Anthropologie will experience Bud Light’s fate. Quite frankly, it’s easy to ask someone to switch from one preferred gross, cheap beer to another.” (Emphasis added.)
Now, it’d be easy to take the populist route and grouse about Ivy League coastal elites like Anthony and her kombucha kin at Princeton looking down on us Coors-swilling silo dregs in Middle America. But that’d be unfair, because I know Ramesh Ponnuru, another Princetonian, wouldn’t wave away a bottle of suds.
Rather, I think Anthony misunderstands the purpose of “cheap, gross beer.” Inexpensive pilsners such as Budweiser, Miller, and Yuengling are working beers. For $50, a man can stock the fridge in the garage with enough beverages to cover the needs of any barbecue and have a dozen brews left for the bonfire afterward.
Second, a longneck is often paired with a Jack-and-Coke or an old-fashioned. In a state like Wisconsin, pilsners play the role of water accompanying one’s primary drink. As wine-tasters employ sparkling water to refresh their palates, so does a press-brake operator use Miller to complement a tumbler’s contents — and to get drunk faster.
Third, Bud Light–grade beer is day-drinking beer. Were a fellow to start off the Fourth of July with an IPA at 8 a.m., he’d be in bed by two in the afternoon. George Washington didn’t die at Guadalcanal just so Americans would miss the fireworks because they mismanaged their beers.
Finally, these beers are thinking beers. When considering a disassembled lawn mower, half-finished basement remodel, or how to introduce new weapons of mass destruction on the local gopher population, a low alcohol-by-volume beer that can sit awhile is a supportive companion. Hard alcohols will whisper “MOAB,” and an expensive, thicker beer will turn warm and hostile.
“Cheap, gross beer” is like that unnaturally sweaty guy on your pick-up basketball team at the YMCA. He ain’t much to look at, your association is occasionally embarrassing, but he gets the job done in the paint and delivers the “W.”