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The Light at the End of the Funnel

By Chris Fara1

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There’s a fat line between the words “gourmet” and “gourmand.” While the former indicates a fair schooling in and a penchant for fine tastes, the latter suggests concern merely with the size of the portion. In short - it’s the old quality vs. quantity equation from the fourth grade that still applies to just about everything we consume. For my part, I plan on being a quantity man for as long as my metabolism will accommodate a diet that comes in six packs. Bourgeois flavors barely cross these orally fixated lips, and when they do I have the pleasure of mixing big size with big taste. I know there are a lot of people out there just like me because I have to wait in line at Wendy’s every day. We consume most of the food and drink in this country, but are deprived of relevant reading material while we’re making room for more grub. And since one of the ways we make room for said grub is through choosing the appropriate beverages, I’m here to offer a defense of light beer.

So here’s to my Whopper-inhaling, and more importantly my schwill-guzzling comrades - because degenerate culture is culture nonetheless…

This has all been brought on by one of the most condescending articles I’ve ever looked up to. The culprit is Fred Eckhardt, a columnist for All About Beer Magazine and a man who knows more about light brew than anyone really should. In a response to a reader, Eckhardt went to great lengths to explain why his mag refuses to examine these “melancholy types.” And while his claim that they are “virtually tasteless” does hold some water, I believe that they are nonetheless worth at least a couple hundred more words. After all - he does compare light beers to Cheez Wiz and Folgers Crystals, which are as integral to my diet as Gruyere and Guatemalan roasts must be to Mr. Eckhardt’s. It’s a consumer culture Fred - and there’s nothing most consumers love more than laying back with a vat of Velveeta and a case of Bud Light. You ask, “What’s to like” about light beer? I bet that you never thought I’d leave my bar stool to tell you.

Light (or lite) beer is the Japanese automobile of the social scene. It’s usually pretty inexpensive, it gives you a lot of gas for your buck, and when you run out you can just steal your neighbor’s. Furthermore - it keeps you going for a lot longer than anything else, which explains its popularity with NASCAR fans and college students. Parties that cater to the round-the-clock crowd need to embrace either light beers or barf bags (and enough urinals to handle the heat). Kicking a keg of Guinness would be like devouring a t-bone buffet; a feat for only the most portly of gourmands. Sure it’s nice to kick off with a fancy pint now and then, but stomachs need a rest once it all begins to taste like water anyway.

Light beer is also a dietary staple is for carb-counters around the world. Thanks to them I’m sure that the shelves full of this shit are only getting deeper. Eckhardt’s article was written almost five years ago - way before articles like “Drink Beer - Lose Weight -The Low Carb Craze” were lead stories in his magazine (I’m not sure if Eckhardt has since moved on from All About Beer - but if not he’s definitely bitter and bloated by now). With Dr. Atkins preaching No Carbs, these days there’s a new draw to this schwill of choice. According to All About Beer, the very first versions of light brew were made in Europe and Japan, where they were introduced as “table and diet beers.” And while I don’t know why the Japanese thought they needed weight loss methods, I nonetheless thank them for cutting down on 21st century-America’s carbohydrate intake.

What I find most interesting here is that while low-cal/low-carb technology was initially of the Eurasian persuasion - the light beers that we now know were delivered by corporate America. There were some failed attempts in the late sixties, then Miller bought Chicago’s Meister Brau and put their Lite product on the shelf. They called it “Miller Lite” and according to the bold words of Fred Eckhardt - “The rest, as they say, is history.” I disagree. When it comes to Miller Lite, the rest, as I say, is the future. When I read about how my featherweight friends ended up on shelves in the first place - I realized that their force in the marketplace knew no limit.

Legend has it that light beers were first marketed to cock-block the microbrews that were threatening to overrun coveted shelf space in aisles across America. Powerhouses like Anheuser Bush and Coors first showed us the light in order to dominate the cooler. If this is really the case (and I’m sure that it is) then why hasn’t the little guy caught on yet? How come I still can’t see through all of those fancy bottles at my corner store? I’m no devout capitalist, but I thought that people went into business to make money. My guess is that most of them are too zooted on that highbrow brew to realize that the crowd wants to catch a quick buzz and still have room for a late night burger. Most of them are as hard on the stomach as they are on the wallet, and I can only see their popularity bitterly descending to the annals of Zima.

The tired cliché claims that you don’t want to mix your liquors. In better words - scotch and beer, wine and gin, and any other pair of intoxicants shouldn’t come in close contact. But my experience has taught me that mixing drinks isn’t nearly as bad as mixing the people who sip on these different potions. Light beer buffs have no business near the red winos, for example, who could never appreciate the quantitative method to our madness. We should no longer be chastised for swallowing Silver Bullets while the yuppies sip martinis. The millions of people who twist the tops off cheap bottles and smash light beer cans on their heads deserve to know how their pleasures came to be. They were put in stores to knock off small businesses, and we adopted them into our routines on a consume-and-crush basis. Other drinks may have a richer history, but none are as genuinely American in spirit as light beer. Screw the little guy and buy the corporate product ‘till your heart stops. Long live glutton - a U.S. tradition since day one.

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Chris FARA1 is a writer living in New York City.  He can be reached at [email protected].

© 2004 Me Three