Ben Franklin is quoted as saying that beer is proof God wants man to be happy. I must be doomed to misery. Try as I might – I cannot develop a taste for beer. Last night I met one of my best friends at a sports bar to watch the UT rout of Ol’ Miss. Given the setting and the activity, I decided to do the culturally normal thing and drink beer. So beer it was.
I knew I could not tolerate any of the darker beers, so I went for a lighter (not light) beer – one so unbeery it comes with an orange slice. The orange helped, but I still did not like it all three times (I felt obligated to keep ordering since I intended to stay at the table the entire game) I ordered it.
One entire game (plus pre-game) and three beers. Yes, I really do not like it. Beer drinkers will know how true that is.
I have several friends who brew their own beers, regularly experimenting with recipes. They know the language of beer fluently. My beer vocabulary consists of two words: bloated and bitter.
It all comes down to taste. I prefer most liquor to beer. I will let my friends find their hoppyness where they may. I’ll find mine with gin.