I remember my first beer. I was about seven or eight years old and hanging out in the backseat of my parents Monte Carlo at the city dump. My father enjoyed target shooting at the city dump probably because of the wide array of objects to choose from and there weren’t other people around. I have fond memories of the dump: playing in the HUGE tractor tires, looking through stuff, and playing hide-and-go-seek with my brother and sister.
Anyway, we were at the dump in the car probably tired and definitely bored. I think this is where we probably started whining about being thirsty. My dad handed a lukewarm can of Budweiser into the backseat. I remember my sister opening it up, taking the first drink, and making a face that conveyed exactly how much she did not like it. I vaguely recall my brother taking the next drink. Honestly I don’t remember if he enjoyed the experience or not. But I remember taking that can in my little hand, taking a big drink, and loving it. I took another hearty swig of that Budweiser and smacked my lips in appreciation. I loved the smell and taste of beer. It reminded me of some of my favorite family members: Nana, my Uncle Greg, and of course my dad.
Growing up in New Mexico, beers like Corona, Budweiser, and Coors were immensely popular. Homebrewing belonged to the hippies that lived out in the country on their communes. In high school, I tried hard alcohol with disastrous results. I won’t go into it as my mom reads this blog. I always came back to my beloved beer.
Eleven and a half years ago I moved to the Pacific Northwest and got to try my first craftbrew and homebrew. Since then, I had learned to appreciate a wide array of different beers, hops, brewing methods, and cask beer mostly thanks to the efforts of Andy. Now I love beer events such as tastings, festivals, and contests.
I encountered my fair share of sexism at bars while trying to order a nice craft brew. I remember once being at the Yardhouse in downtown San Diego and ordered a 22 ounce craft brew. The bartender remarked “That’s a pretty big beer for a lady.” I gently assured him I could handle it. A year or so ago, I was buying a few bottles of beer from a reputable selling and the clerk remarked, “Oh you’ll want to share this.” He lifted up a bottle of beer (I can’t remember the brand) and nodded at it as if it were a lethal brew.
So gentlemen, have no worries. Yes, I am a woman and yes, I love beer.