PBR, Irony, and Duct Tape
SteveIf you are sort of old like me, and not all that cool, you might not know that amongst wide swaths of the young, hipster crowd that Pabst Blue Ribbon (PBR) beer has become a popular and trendy beverage of choice. 
Part of the reason for PBR's popularity with that scene is it's relative value; I think a 12-pack of PBR can be had for a reasonable $7.00 or $8.00 in most parts of the country. The other explanation for the brand's recent success with the cool kids is less about value and more about image; by drinking PBR, a brew that is more or less bland, nondescript, and 'old', the hipsters are making a kind of statement. They are sending a message that they simply don't care about what the beer they choose says about them, and going further, if they do choose to drink cheap, mass-produced beer that they choose to consciously and conspicuously shun the mass-market, mass-advertised, and more obvious choices like Budweiser or Coors for a more 'indie' choice in PBR.
In a way it is the ironic choice. To try and rebel against the incessant marketing messages from the major brands, the hipsters choose to go even more down market, all the way down to PBR. When was the last time you can recall seeing a PBR commercial on the Super Bowl, or for that matter, any kind of PBR advertising at all? And no, the aging 1960s era posters at the local bowling alley don't count. At the end of the day, the folks that make and sell PBR probably don't completely understand this newfound popularity, but they know that for the moment anyway, and for the first time in maybe 40 years, the PBR brand has some relevance, some cachet even.
My Dad still lives in New Jersey, in the house I grew up in. His neighbor and friend that lives across the street is named Phil, and for most of my childhood Phil worked in a brewery helping to make PBR beer. As kids, we never thought Phil was all that hip or cool. To us, he was an old guy, he wore a workshirt with the PBR logo that we, in our ignorant and narrow view of the world, thought was low-class. He used duct tape to hold the muffler assembly on his aging Buick, an improvised repair that we laughed at, with our childish lack of awareness of the realities and problems that mortgages, insurance, and medical bills put on an unskilled worker in a brewery.
Phil came home from work every day and took his son, Phil Jr., out for a walk. Phil Jr. was just a year or two younger than me, but I never had a relationship with him. Sadly, he was a victim of Cerebral Palsy. He could not walk, could hardly communicate, and could not see. Phil would take Phil Jr. out, stand behind him and hold him up, and proceed to try and walk him up and down the street, the entire time having what to us seemed like a one-sided conversation with his son. To Phil these were probably the most precious few moments of the day. Phil took these walks with this son every day for years.
As I think back on it, I wonder if Phil secretly hoped that these walks with his son, where he essentially was carrying him along, would somehow, someway be the catalyst that would enable Phil Jr. to walk on his own one day. Eventually the combination of Phil Jr. growing too tall and heavy, and Phil getting older and weaker put an end to these daily supported walks. Phil Jr's condition never really improved, and at some point after I had gone off to college and moved away, he was placed in an assisted living facility.
Around that same time the fortunes of PBR beer were clearly on the decline, and the brewery where Phil had worked for 20-odd years was closed. After that Phil bounced around in a series of jobs - maintenance worker, janitor, maybe even night security guard, until he finally was able to retire a few years ago.
I saw Phil earlier this year when my Dad was hospitalized, and he came to pay a visit. He looked tired, seemed a little bit confused, but for someone that has endured a long and often emotionally painful life I suppose was holding up as well as can be expected. It was good to see him.
I wanted to tell him about the resurgence of the PBR brand, about how in the last few years it has suddenly become hip to drink PBR, but after a few minutes I realized that he would not have really understood or appreciated or even cared.
And come to think of it, I am glad I didn't try and tell the story to Phil. When most people see the PBR label today, they think of the Brooklyn hipsters looking and acting so much cooler that the rest of us. Shallow, transitory, and meaningless.
When I see the PBR label, I think of Phil, in his workshirt, carrying his son up and down the street.
Reader Comments (13)
You are an amazing storyteller. The way you can change my view of the world with just one post is an amazing talent. This post is the exact reason I look forward to your blog every single day. Thank you.
wow, something we all sense and feel these days - thanks for the story
Steve
I love thus post, your storytelling and the depth of your message. I know nothing of the beer or the hipsters, but I know that all work is noble. This post reminded me of that in a profound way.
Thanks for sharing.
Steve, great story, not what I expected when I read the title but that is all the more pleasure in reading it. Good job.
What a beautifully told story that resonates with me on so many levels. My great-grandfather and a few great-uncles worked for Pabst and Schlitz in Milwaukee all their lives... during the heyday of the breweries. They worked hard and loved their family. Thank you Steve for bringing back some wonderful memories to me with this post.
Hey, didn't we drink 24oz cans of PBR at HRevolution?
@Trish - Thanks very much, truly appreciated.
@mgrindell - Thanks for stopping by.
@John - Much appreciated.
@John - super point John, and thanks for your kind words
@Robin - Thanks for sharing your story.
@Lance - We did indeed. And at the next one we shall have them again!
Thanks for this story. I grew up in a place where factory jobs were the norm, and have spent much of my career working in factories where the role of the typical worker has gradually evolved into one that uses less back and more brain. PBR was a good cure for putting the long work day behind you.
More importantly I saw a recognition that Phil was his own brand, not an extension of PBR, and that's what you recognized in the end.
Employees are not an extension of employers, they are what makes it all work, they are the lifeblood. I hope that at a minimum Phil's supervisor valued that he had an employee who had passion for his family.
Thanks Introvert - I hope you are right. I kind of think that Phil might not have cared too much, I think he must had been consumed with his son, and his myriad issues. But it is hard to know. Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts.
Well done, Steve, great post and terrific story. PBR appears to be another random beneficiary in the battle of who can care less, along with pre-stained jeans and hair product to make you look like you have bed head. While I know culture and fashion are every changing, I still have to cross my fingers and hope that those who work so hard to look like they don't care, will transition into thoughtful, concerned, involved, and productive members of our communities and our workplaces... Good stuff Steve, thanks for sharing it.
@Jason - Thanks very much for your comments and for reading. I hope and think you are right, and that most of the folks that are hyping PBR now are actually pretty interesting and creative and will soon make their mark.
This struck a chord and got me a bit misty eyed.
Thank you for making me think.
Thanks, John. I hope all is well.