Friday, February 6, 2009


hello. i am new here. the out of towner. i know most of you, but, still, this is my first time here at beer club. actually, i'm at work right now, sipping coffee and still feeling the burn from a mcdonald's hot and spicy chicken sandwich. my first beer of the day is still a few hours away. anyway, i thought i might get started here by introducing myself. none of that boring who i am and what i do kinda shite. rather, i thought i might begin a batch of small posts talking you guys through my journey with beer. that seems like a good starting place. feel free to put off the reading of these until you have a cold one. i rather wish i had put off the writing until the same.

honestly, i do not count those cans of hot busch light in the workshed behind my childhood home, nor that bottle of night-train wesley and i snuck under my mother's nose, both in the ninth grade, as among my first drinks. and i conveinantly slide right over that bottle of cisco jeremy harrison and i split, that ended up splitting us, that same year as well. instead, i choose to fast-forward much further into my life when considering my first impressions of beer. i like to start in arkadelphia, arkansas smack in the middle of the dry county treeline where i attended a southern baptist university. i had every religious reason in the world not to start drinking. in fact, that's exactly why i did.

i had stopped by neil sullivan's house to chat with his roommate who, i learned, was not home. neil was sitting on the porch when i arrived. brooding. he had recently broken up with a girl. i also had recently broken up with a girl. we had both recently broken up with girls. we were not a good combination for one another. neil said, "kevin, i like you. have you ever drank a beer?" i said, "i've grown up southern baptist." he said, "then i'd like to introduce you to some friends of mine."

that night, i lost my beerginity to a six pack of heineken.

i branched out a little in the following weeks. though i still drank plenty of heineken, i found a small love for the coors light, the budweiser, the MGD, and the miller lite. i fell for a girl not long after that who liked beer. we would sit on evening swings in her backyard, working our way through all manner of embarrasing tales and sixers of long neck budweisers. she never wore shoes. this was the prime of my collegiate adolescence.

that summer at camp barnabas, i snuck a few bottles of coors light into the flamingo building out back. all the men of camp were gone that night, and i knew all those booze had to be sunk before the break ended. on a search for camp dudes, i bumped into chelsea reed robertson coming back from journaling at the laundrymat in downtown monett, missouri. i asked her if she liked beer. she said she was from texas. i said, "i'd like to introduce you to some friends of mine." chelsea and i sat on the backporch of the flamingo and sipped coors light from camp barnabas coffeemugs. we wore open toed sandals and talked about books. it was a highlight of that summer.


  1. That was so inspirational, that I am thinking about drinking a beer...even though I just took a dose of nyquil. My first taste of alkihol was Rolling Rock. I haven't had one of those in so long that I don't even remember if it is decent. I know it says "Pale Ale" on it, so that is at least a nice place to start. That fall, after the summer you defiled the flamingo with Chelsea and Coors, Chelsea's husband and I dove into bottles of Budweiser on the balcony of our Springfield apartment. Then the age of Busch began. I would take a 5 dollar bill and buy a 6 pack of suds and a burrito at Taco Bell. Thank you Springfield Brewing Company for rescuing me out of the commercial hype swamp of big money breweries. I almost always enjoy my beer at home out of a Springfield Brew Co. glass, and it reminds me of the origins of my love for brew.

  2. word. chelsea's husband has influenced my love for beer as much as beer has. word.

  3. ahh yes, the first real tasting of beer. I've had multiple "first tastings". You know the Buds, Coors, Coronas while in High School and again in College...and at Camp as well. I remember hangin in the 40 and in the parking lot by the horses. Blake smuggled some brew in while as a guest.
    But it wasn't until I no longer had to sneak a drink that I could truly appreciate and enjoy my B-cubed (beautiful beloved beverage). It started with Boulevard Unfiltered Wheat, then Shiner Bock, Amber Bock, Irish Red, and Fat Tire. Fat Tire opened my eyes and they haven't closed since. Damn I could sure go for a beer right now. Damn.

  4. thank you my rodentially honest friend. i didn't have my first beer until college. it was a bottle of guiness and it tasted like what i can only describe as a tractor tire run through a blender.
    yep, beer is terrible it scolded myself. my 21st birthday came and went and i was offered all kinds of free alchohol which i stubbornly refused. Fast forward to age 24 and while standing in a greasy kitchen next to a hot Hobart machine pumping steam and causing my forhead to leak, i am handed an equally sweaty and cold bottle of Stella Artois. She was french, cute, and had a big-ass tatoo of a dragon from her upper ass to her middle back. She smiled, i gulped, and then i began to smile with her.