The One About the Beer Snob

A personal journey there and back

There is no more avid and vocal advocate than a convert.

That’s something I used to say a lot, back when I was proselytizing about my new favorite subject. Said subject was beer. The reason for this conversion was an opportunity to assist opening of a new business** in a realm of alcohol that was not really my thing. I was wine drinker, had the occasional brown liquor drink but my experience with beer was limited to whatever was handed to me in college. Which is to say, a long ass time ago, even before I had this discussion with the guys who brought it to me as a concept.

This substack is not about how I was screwed out of a solid 8-10 years of my life, my family’s life, and plenty of friendships because of the way the men I worked with and considered my “partners” did not consider me that at all.

No, this is about my journey from beer noob to beer snob and back to beer neutral. In this essay I will….

Actually this is about how the way we judge others has a way of coming back to bite us in our heinies, at a micro and macro level. I’m using beer as my example and my story with it to frame this argument because I was an English Major. So there.

Let’s say that there was a time, once I discovered what it took to make /brew beer and was eyeballs deep in trying to convince the earlyish-adopter craft beer types to drink lagers that were “craft,” and to do so at a new location in town, when I was a snob about beer. Ugh. I was sooooooo judgey. I said things like “don’t ask me for anything ‘like a Budweiser.’” I scoffed at those who thought “hops” were “too bitter” and declared myself a “hop head” for a period of time.

But after that whole thing blew up in my face despite my best intentions and efforts, I realized that being judgmental about beer choices was a waste of emotional energy. Honestly, if you really know how hard it is to make beer CONSISTENTLY of a high quality, you gotta hand it to the Big Guys. They make literal ga-zillions of gallons of the stuff on the daily and I don’t know about you but I’ve never had 2 Modelos (or 2 LaBatt’s or 2 Bud heavies) that didn’t taste EXACTLY the same. Making quality beer consistently is something that even the best and trendiest crafties don’t always do. So an appreciation of those who do, is something that feels right.

“You do you” is what I live by now, for beer and pretty much everything. As long as…well, you’ll get that part a few lines down.

Don’t want to shave your pits or legs, ladies? Don’t. Prefer yourself a smooth from the eyebrows down? Go for it!

Have kids or want to have them? Have at it! Don’t have any interest in them for whatever reason? Do NOT have them ‘cause they are a LOT.

Short nails? Cool. Long pointy ones? Same.

No dogs on the bed with you at night? It’s your house. Can’t sleep unless you’re burritoed between two hairy, farty snore machines? Great! (lol. I do mean dogs here but if you took this a different way then you may very well be a Liz Book Reader).

Want your wine organically sourced from France? Nice! Don’t care as long as it’s wet and tastes like fermented grapes? Excellent!

Wanna snuggle up with the latest rom com or (heavens!!) smutty romance? That sounds like a plan for you. Rather choose from the latest Booker Prize list or a recent Pulitzer winner? Also a good plan (for you).

Can’t fathom a week without a hit of Real Housewives or Survivor? Neat! All about Masterpiece Theater and thinkpiece podcasts? That’s neat too.

Now, let’s take this a step further, shall we?

Marry who you want. Or don’t get married at all.

Regular school or home school? That’s up to you.

Found connections and solace by going to a house of worship on the regular? That’s great news.

Just remember that you believing what you believe, whether it’s about your school choice, your sexual partner choice, or your choice to do religion, does NOT allow you to tell me what to believe about ANY of it. No more than your love of an 11.5% ABV, porter aged in port wine barrels while on the ocean and being attended to by throat-singing monks means that I must also love it. I should be able to sit at your table with you and drink my Mich Ultra and it Not Be a Thing.

You are not allowed to glare at me over your bible snifter of monk juice and sneer just because I am not partaking the same way that you are.

The sooner we realize all of this, the better off we will be.

Hang in. Carry on. Drink what you want. Watch what you want. Sleep the way you want/with who you want. Read what you want. But remember, what you love is not always what someone else will love—but your non-love of their choice does not negate it. Period.

Lighten up. Don’t Judge.

And remember, we Gen Xers are the strongest ones out here Doing the Things. We only have one fear….IYKYK.

**Said business has now been sold out. But hey, it happens, right?

OH and btw in the interest of full disclosure, I sometimes catch myself skewing to the other end of the beer snob spectrum these days, hence my snarky graphic at the top. (Rolls eyes in Craft Beer Bro for a hot second. Sorry. I will do better.).

PLUS I’ll be at M. Judson, an awesome indie bookshop in Greenville on Saturday, March 15 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. with copies of my domestic mystery/suspense Cul-de-Sac available for purchase. M Judson is one of those super coolio bookshops with coffee, delicious snacks, beer AND wine! I think we should toast with something then. See you there!