Sill life with High Life
Miller High Life in the seven-ounce bottles. Nips, they used to call them, and I recall they came in an eight-pack back then. This was the beer I learned to drink beer with, about 45 years ago.
There wasn't a lot of alcohol in my house growing up. My father didn't touch the stuff, after having been way too familiar with in it in his younger days. After one too many bar fights, ma straightened him out and I had never seen him drink anything stronger than coke. But the brothers-in-law drank: Linda's husband Gene preferred Budweiser, and would go through six or twelve or more in the course of a an evening. Monya's husband George drank Miller. The two men, each of whom contributed my to my growing up, differed in other ways: George smoked Chesterfields and Gene smoked Pall Malls; George was more intellectual while Gene was streetwise. Perhaps that's why Miller always seemed to me a somehow classier beer than Bud; the "Champagne of Beers" slogan added to that cachet. A nice distinction in this era of esoteric craft beers, I suppose.
This is about life size, I think, depending on your monitor resolution.
My mother drank Miller, too, on holidays. She'd have one little bottle, her left earlobe would turn bright red, and she'd get a little silly - that's how we knew ma had had her Nip.
I liked the taste of Miller then, and I still do now. I have always associated it with what I can only describe as a peppery flavor - it seems less pronounced now than it used to, and I don't know if it's the beer or my taster that has changed. But High Life is still my go-to beer if I can get it - just another way I swim upstream in Pacific Northwest culture. (Remember, I drink instant coffee, too.) It helps to know I am not alone in this apostasy: I have at least one friend who routinely touts on Facebook (to no little derision) the joy of American macrobrews. I did find a pizza place in West Seattle, that actually had Miller on tap - and that is a rare thing, indeed. It's hard enough to get it in a bottle at most taverns; the distribution in grocery stores seems to be getting a little better, although Bud and the "modern" Miller brands (MGD and Lite) hold most of the macrobrew space.
I liked the taste of Miller then, and I still do now. I have always associated it with what I can only describe as a peppery flavor - it seems less pronounced now than it used to, and I don't know if it's the beer or my taster that has changed. But High Life is still my go-to beer if I can get it - just another way I swim upstream in Pacific Northwest culture. (Remember, I drink instant coffee, too.) It helps to know I am not alone in this apostasy: I have at least one friend who routinely touts on Facebook (to no little derision) the joy of American macrobrews. I did find a pizza place in West Seattle, that actually had Miller on tap - and that is a rare thing, indeed. It's hard enough to get it in a bottle at most taverns; the distribution in grocery stores seems to be getting a little better, although Bud and the "modern" Miller brands (MGD and Lite) hold most of the macrobrew space.
I will continue to enjoy High Life whenever I can get it - and I am sure a couple of those nips won't make through tonight. If my earlobe turns red, cut me off.
1 comment:
Gosh, I lost my taste for beer a long time ago, which is amazing seeing as how I used to live for the stuff in college. I drink wine now so I can get sloshed the classy way.
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