Showing posts with label Eliot Rosewater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eliot Rosewater. Show all posts

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Now, Who Wants to be Putin Pabst in His Icebox?



“Pabst Blue Ribbon is the quintessential American brand — it represents individualism, egalitarianism, and freedom of expression — all the things that make this country great,” - The Russian owner of Pabst, Евгений Kashper. or Yevgeniy Kashper AKA Eugene Kashper

Kashper’s parents, Jewish refugees from Communist Russia, brought him to the US in 1976 when he was just 6 years old, according to a source close to the entrepreneur.
Kashper went on to study at Columbia University. It was only after graduating from college in 1992 that Kashper set out to build a beer empire in the Eastern bloc.
Now, Kashper is “very concerned about being viewed as Russian” in light of the “recent political climate,” according to the source.
I drank the Mountie as a young scapegrace.  I was a delightful young chap and as merry-hearted as Sigmund Romberg opereretta.



Yes sirree, that's how I see the young scamp whose very entrance to a roomful of boon-chums and toothsome trollops would make the rafters roar with wholesome good fellowship and rollicking song. Often after a a few cheeksful of Drewrys, I'd coax one nd sundry to join me for a jaunt around the Ward in my alligator powered chariot -Mon Bijou! Ubi sunt!

Now to the case at hand.  The issue mind and not the score and four container of cans.

The Mountie was and remains Drewrys Beer.  A malted grain beverage for discerning pintsmen with modest purses. Now, Pabst was a great American beer brewed and distributed by a generous German immigrant family that donated a large estate in Oconomowoc, WI for use of a Catholic novitiate of the Augustinian Order. The family is out of the brewing business and continues charitable work.

Pabst is the beer of choice for the hip and aged.  I have watched old gents and soul patched knit hat cowboys blow the foam from a sudsy growler of Pabst in unison and sweet cross-generational tribute to common tastes.

One of the most energetic patriots I know, Dan Kelley of the north side, attorney, philanthropist, wit and swordsman, quaffs his Pabst with gusto.

However, ownership can breed contempt ( e.g. Trump, Willis, The Cell) for the values of the common man and the chicks he digs.

I'd apply the jewelers eye to the sight of a hefty purchase of Pabst,Red White and Blue, or Lone Star beer these days.  A Ruskie owns them.

No sir, to paraphrase Eliot Rosewater, "I tell you, boys," he went on, "if those Russian landing barges come barging in some day, and there isn't any way to stop 'em, all the phony bastards who get all the good jobs in this country by kissing ass will be down to meet the conquerers with vodka and caviar, offering to do any kind of work the Russians have in mind. And you know who'll take to the woods with hunting knives and Springfields, who'll go on fighting for a hundred years, by God? Drewrys beer drinkers.