I am not ashamed to say it...that story brought a bit of moisture to the eyes.
...sigh...beer...its part of American history...
schlamiel...schlamozzle...
Frank's Cafe would stay open until one SECOND before closing time. So it was our "last stop" on the way home. All he had was Pabst. On tap. In bottles. And a huge refrigerator case of Pabst to go.
Ahhh, Pabst!
What'll ya have?
Thanks for the article. It brought to mind an event that happened years ago. My grandmother was from Milwaukee and used to tell me of her trips to the Pabst Farms in Oconomowoc when she was a young girl. Evidently, they had big picnics and such (like they used to show on Pabst commercials in the 60s)and she knew one of the Pabst girls. When I was a little girl in the 1960s, my grandmother took me to the Pabst farms to meet one of her elderly friends and I remember riding bikes there and seeing a working farm (particularly, I remember seeing a bull in the field and feeling quite frightened.) I hope they restore the buildings...thanks for sharing.
PBR, R.I.P.
Man OH Man ! Nothing but Headache in a can.
The best Wisconsin beer ever made........
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Archaeology/Anthropology/Ancient Cultures/Artifacts/Antiquities, etc.
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The social habits of beer in cans and bottles: In it's natural habitat, beer does not like to travel alone as it is not condusive to fulfilling it's life goal of consumption. Hence, beer usually travels in packs...6-packs, 12-packs, 24-packs....
Before the rise of the microbreweries, PBR Bock was one of the few authentic American bock beers - and authentically enough, only available for part of the year. Good stuff. OTOH, regular PBR was another story entirely...
This reminds me, I think I will get out grandpa's recipe for ale and make some for Christmas.