The Old Milwaukee Lament

It’s high time for a tribute to the staple of white trash living: Old Milwuakee Beer.

Nectar of the white trash gods

According to the official website of Old Milwaukee, Old Milwaukee is about living life to it’s fullest. Whether you are listening to your favorite tunes, taking in a race at the speedway, or enjoying the crisp mountain air, it’s about getting the most out of every moment and being able to honestly say “It Doesn’t Get Any Better Than This.”

I can buy the first two. For example, when you are sitting outside your trailer with the Toby Keith cranked up on the boom box, and your cousin Bobby Ray is using the propane tank as a drumset – that’s the time for the OM (common trailer park name for Old Milwaukee.)

You’re at the speedway and you’ve removed your shirt to reveal a beer belly the size of a small bear and you’re sporting the classic mesh trucker hat with torn jean shorts. You’re shouting at the top of your lungs for a crash, but as drunk as you are you don’t notice that not only are you urinating on yourself – but you’re actually yelling at the bottom of your seat because you are lying in a puddle of vomit and spilled beer – that’s the time for the OM.

But enjoying the crisp mountain air? Isn’t that Coors? When I think of the customer base for Old Milwaukee, I think of the guys I see on the way home hanging out in front of the junkyard in the back of their pickup trucks drinking beer and making dirty gestures with muffler parts. I can’t see some yuppie bastard sitting on his back porch in Aspen toasting an Old Milwaukee with his little woman, sitting next to him in their wicker chairs from Pier One. Yes, I realize that crisp mountain air could be referring to the air possibly in the mountains other than at a ski resort, but that’s what I think of when an advertisment says crisp mountain air. I don’t think of the Ozarks, I think of the Rocky Mountain air. I’m not through nitpicking their slogan.

What the hell do they mean “it doesn’t get any better than this?” Of course it gets better than this – Old Milwaukee is at the bottom of the beer food chain. I mean, it’s like three bucks a six pack – that is why it’s the white trash beer of choice. So I suppose, in retrospect – maybe it really doesn’t get any better than that for a lot of people. Maybe the OM really is as good as it gets. I’m inspired. I think it’s time for a beer themed ode.

Ode to Old Milwaukee

When my thirst becomes too much to bear,
I’m drinking the OM
When my sister gets laid at the fair,
I’m drinking the OM
When I’m working down on the farm,
I’m drinking the OM
When my cousin Jeb lost his arm,
I’m drinking the OM
And driving the trawler.

When the cops come to pick me up,
I’m drinking the OM
When the cops chase me down the street,
I’m drinking the OM
When the cops cuff my arms to my feet,
I’m drinking the OM
When the cops celebrate bringing me down,
They’re drinking my OM
And nailing my wife
And nailing my sister
And nailing my wife’s cousin & sister
In fact, one of the cops is my one armed son of a bitch cousin Jeb
But when I get out of lock-up
I’ll be drinking the OM.

Now let’s look the history of Old Milwaukee. According to their website, they were started in 1955 and marketed to the American public as the first ‘popular beer.’ Back then six-packs must have been no more than fifty cents, so it’s no wonder it was so freaking popular. If my memory serves me right (which it rarely does) Old Milwaukee was brewed by Schlitz for many many years. I think it is brewed by Pabst now, though I’m not really sure – nor does it really matter.
Old Milwaukee is a staple of the American way of life. It represents the working man, as well as the ‘I can’t seem to hold down at job at the railroad man.’ Old Milwaukee strives to remind us each and every day that “it doesn’t get any better than this.” That’s right people – if you’re sitting on the roof of your trailer – look around you – it’s not going to get any better so don’t even try!

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Tags: beer, Ode, Old Milwaukee