Why was I so quiet before? Because any message I start here, I fear, will turn into a novel. Seriously. As a teenager in the early '80s, I was always the one who bought a six-pack of Beck's or Anchor Steam to the park, rather than the usual fake ID fare of Milwaukee's Best. My beer snobbery began early. Same thing with cigars, too ... Dad was a cigar salesman, and before cigars became trendy I'd suck down that St. Pauli Girl with a Macanudo. Good times. Good times.
In college, my friends frequently mulled among themselves "What the f*** kind of obscure stuff will Dan bring along to this party?" It could be a German rauchbier (mmmmmm!) or a Belgian lambic; it could be some available-north-of-the-border-only brew that I absconded from Fort Erie; it could be a case of Coqui 900 Malt Liquor in 40 ounce bottles.
Anyhow, now ... no, I'm not brand loyal with beer the way cigarette smokers are with their coffin sticks. Florida is something of a beer wasteland compared to Colorado, though, and I'm disappointed with what's found on store shelves here. Generally, the selection of European beers is marginally better than in Colorado, there's a huge selection of British and Irish brews, but few American micros on the shelves. When I find a Colorado beer on a Florida store shelf, it's mine!
Everyday beer ... if I had to pick one, probably Michelob Amber or Michelob Wheat. Good lawn-mowing beers. In Denver, it was Fat Tire.
Special occasion beer ... something I haven't had before, although there's few of those left. Probably a Belgian lambic or an obscure Eastern European pilsener.
One beer for the rest of my life ... Guinness. It's a meal in a can.