Liking Beer Runs in My Family

There’s nothing like bonding with your dad over a beer. In my family, it almost seemed like the day I became a man. Everyone in my family enjoys a good brew; even my dog jumps at the opportunity to clean up a “fallen soldier.”

Over the years, I’ve developed a real taste for craft beer. I prefer hoppy flavors, like IPAs and Pale Ales, but I’ll drink just about anything. The fresh piney flavor is like a blast of green nature and reminds me of being in the forest.

Some beers are supposed to be served at room temperature, but I say no thank you. Ice cold, every time. Boom baby. A cold beer is seriously one of life’s greatest treasures. Just got off work? Cold beer. Finished mowing the lawn? Time for a cold beer. Small project around the house? Cold beer. Playing some disc golf? Beer me. I honestly can’t think of an activity that isn’t better without a beer around.

When my dad and I go fishing, we always pack the cooler to the brim and stick it on the boat. Can you guess what’s in the cooler? You got it! Ice and beer baby (with a couple of water bottles for later). There’s no sitting on the cooler neither. It needs to remain accessible at a moment’s notice. Being on the still water and casting a lure is a great way to spend the day, and a cold beer ensures the event is as relaxing as possible. This year I got him his own Growler Chill that keeps beer cold and gets served out of a tap. He loves it!

Beer drinking is a bit of a family tradition, and my great-grandmother (my father’s grandma on his father’s side), use to always say, “I need a beer. I need a beer. I need a beer. That’s three beers I need.” Gah, she was a hoot. She sang on the San Antonio radio when she was a young adult, and back then the airwaves were live. I never got to hear her sing, but I’m told she would have a couple of drinks and start wailing. I like to sing too, go figure.

Great-grandma was a wild lady, but always in a good mood and cracking jokes. She lived to be 96 and drank beer every day into her old age. I wouldn’t recommend that to most people, but hey, it worked for her.

I remember the first beer I had with my dad. We were camping in Colorado, and he handed me a local ale that we had picked up in town. The stars were out, and at 8,000 feet, it felt like we could see every star in the universe. We sat in silence, watching the sky, and my taste buds lit up. I have no idea what that beer was called, but it was delicious.

I’ve been back to Colorado a couple of times, but I’ve never found that beer.

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