PabstBlue Ribbon Beer is a Midwestern staple.
Founded in the bustling town of Milwaukee, Wisconsin in 1844, PBR has
stood the test of time and is synonymous with American brewing. PBR’s “Blue Ribbon” was earned when it won a
gold medal during the World’s Fair and Columbian Exposition in 1893,
solidifying its place in American beer history as the stuff of legends. While I could go on and on about PBR’s
history, its innovative creation of the “Tall boy” can and the amazing names
such as Shlitz and Old Style that have grown from its breweries, my story of
PBR is more close to home. That is to
say, you can almost always count on finding it in my home.
As
a college student, a musician, and a Chicagoan, PBR has many attractive
qualities to me. It’s a cheap beer that
can be found in almost any liquor store and it doesn’t taste like it was brewed
from the scrapings of a factory floor. I
find it to be quite tasty, although I know there are those who would
disagree. For me it’s a taste that is
familiar, refreshing, and timeless.
In my short span of
exploring the great world of beer, I have learned that I can always count on
PBR. Whenever I’m tired or indecisive,
it’s always there, the perfect 6-pack of glistening Tall Boys individually wrapped
in metallic blue ribbons. More times
than I can count I have found myself suddenly entertaining a rowdy bunch of
thirsty friends and ended up grabbing a 30 rack of PBR to carry home in my arms
like it were my big boxy infant. Each
and every time, it’s turned into a great night with great friends. I dare not think of the numerous floorboards
we’ve strained, stained, and danced on.
Somewhere, the floorboard gods look down on my friends and I with
disgust and disdain.
Summer
time is great for PBR as well. When it’s
summer and my days are care-free, PBR can be found in a bucket of ice on my back
porch while a guitar or two are being strummed in some aimless melody leading
to nowhere in particular. Where’s there
to go when we’ve got all we need right here?
I
was lucky to be blessed with a roommate who has shared in my familiarity with
PBR. My roommate Abby, comrade Zach and
I once dedicated an entire day watching Tom Hanks films while we tried to find
the best PBR bottle caps to make a card deck out of. We also had the profoundly modest idea of
inviting over 100 of our closest friends to our apartment for a party featuring
4 live bands, including our own. PBR was there to keep our guests happy and our
show a success. Together we’ve danced,
cheered, and conquered the night with PBR, much to the discontent of several
neighbors, a few members of the CPD, and countless unfulfilled obligations the
next morning.
Although
the days of awarding Pabst golden medals for taste and innovation have long
since past, I still would give PBR a blue ribbon for being PB”Our”. It feels like our beer, the beer for the end
of a long day, a music-filled afternoon on the back porch, or a night of
restless youth and debauchery. Here’s to
you, PBR; you were there on my 21st birthday, and you’ve been there
for many $5 beer-and-a-shots since. You
keep my friends living wildly, and sweet home Chicago feeling like home. Cheers.
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