From the Desk of The DBeazy One-Man-Think-Tank

The early eighties were tumultuous times.  I remember that it was around this time that I first heard older people making “biblical end-of-time” references whenever something big happened in the world.  Now, I’m sure that this had been going on since the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, but it was the first I had heard such references, or if I had been exposed to them, I never gave a minutes thought.  I mean, Mt. St. Helens erupted, the world was ending.  Civil unrest around the world, the world was ending.  Time Magazine names ‘the Computer” man of the year, the world was ending.  We saw MTV, Aids, Pac Man, and CD players for the first time, all signs of the end.   The assassination of John Lennon and a woman being appointed Chief Justice of the United States, well, from what I heard, at the very least, that was the fulfillment of biblical prophecy.  I played all of this through my mind on the 24th day of May 1981.  Alone on a deserted stretch of Florida beach, the day was just beginning to warm from the coolness of the night prior, and I watched the waves coming in and opened a Schlitz Little Joe.  Some friends and I were on our senior trip and being an early riser, I didn’t expect to see my friends or our “chaperone” for another hour or two.  I thought that this couldn’t be the end; I was 17 and would be leaving the farm soon. Hell, this wasn’t the end.  It couldn’t be. This was the BEGINNING, dammit!

And while the Bible may have been playing out in front of all of us, it wasn’t the end, no, far from it.  The world continued to see “new” and “firsts.”  I saw my first class schedule at the University of Southern Mississippi.  I began to meet people from far off places; my twin brother and I moved from home and experienced many new things.  We formed new relationships as we began to stretch from comfortable known surroundings and people.  We saw Disco and the Hustle give way to Country and Western and the Two-step and my twin brother introduced me to the new “Cowboy Night” at Cash McCool’s, a night club adjacent to the apartment complex where we lived.  Beer became a new influence on my friends and me and seemingly, everyone in Hattiesburg.  Somehow, a local beer distributor mounted a huge advertising campaign and while I don’t have any numbers to support it, Budweiser Heavy seemed to be the most popular beer in Hattiesburg by far.  Seriously, I would guess 3 to 1 over Miller Light.  Earlier, Coors had tried to make a move on the heels of Smokey and the Bandit when Coors Brewing Company had jumped all of the hurdles that made it previously illegal to purchase or sell east of the Mississippi River.

Then in the early spring of 1982, there was something new on the horizon.  Hattiesburg Mississippi and surrounding areas became the target of another beer-related advertising campaign.  Man, it was everywhere.  There were billboards, TV commercials, radio ads, and newspaper advertising.  A local distributor was throwing a huge party to welcome Stroh and Stroh’s Light beer to Mississippi.  On campus at USM, there were flyers and posters and pretty sorority girls handing out invitations.  One day before one of my classes, I overheard some girls talking about how they were going and how much fun it was going to be.  Then the girl sitting next to me, who had not said one word to me all semester, asked if I was going, gave me the details, and said she hoped to see me there.  I got back to our apartment that afternoon and my three roommates, another male friend who was there, as well as two of the three girls who lived next door, shot me down.  They expressed no interest.  Thankfully though, the third roommate next door said she would go.  I was relieved because back then, I would have never ventured out by myself to a social event like this.  The promise of lots and lots of free beer did nothing to change my friends’ minds.  I promised that they would regret it but my pleading was to no avail.  It would be just me and my friend Kelli.

As much as I would like to remember the date, I cannot.  I am almost positive that it was in March, but wouldn’t rule out April.  Part of my friends’ objection was the fact that a cold front had come through and let me tell you, it was one of those Mississippi spring days where the temperature drops 40 degrees.  I was not then nor am I now a fan of cold weather.  It was already springtime on the campus of the University of Southern Mississippi.  I mean, many guys had already altered their routes to and from class to make a swing by what was known as the “meat pad,” a patio area behind one of the girl’s dorms where the coeds had begun donning bikinis and working on their tans.  That was not the case though on the night we met Stroh.  Stroh brought with it an icy wind forcing Kelli and me to layer our clothing and find the heaviest jackets we had.  Kelli and I arrived in my 1978 Cougar XR7, (a story for another day), and man despite the cold, we had to park and walk.  I gave Kelli my keys because as I closed the car door I could hear a band playing, and I knew that I would not be the one driving home.  The band was playing a song that I knew I had heard before, though I couldn’t recall the name.  We were a couple of hundred yards away from the entrance, so Kelli and I hurried to the gate entering just as the band finished the song. There is something about arriving at an event with the band playing loud and automatically, energy levels spike like an electric charge somehow courses through everybody and everything around.  The last remnants of escaping lightning bolts can be caught in the periphery, leaving one wondering if it is real or only imagined.  Possibilities fill the mind along with the thought that the night may very well become anomalous. In my case though, as doubt gained the upper hand, darkness became more visible, chasing the bolts out of view.  I shook my head as if to change the station in my brain, from slow and solemn to upbeat, energetic and positive.

The event planners obviously would have chosen another location if they had known that the weather would threaten to harelip the entire evening.  Like I said, in a matter of hours, South Mississippi had been robbed of 40 degrees by an Arctic Blast. But the party was set and couldn’t be changed, thus it was held at an outside venue next to a lake.  Being near water always seems to make things colder.  Once we made it through the entrance, there was a walkway that led around behind the building.  There was a bandstand where most of the people were located, but there were portable ice bins located approximately 20 yards apart, each one filled with cans of Stroh and Stroh’s Light beer.  Near each cooler, there were groups of people standing around talking, everyone with a beer in their hands.  The drawback again was the weather.  The drink boxes were filled with beer alright, but they were submerged in icy water and it took determination to reach down in there and grab a can. I was motivated though, so reach down in there I did and retrieved a couple of Stroh’s Light. Kelli and I popped the tops, touched cans together in a mock toast, and simultaneously, Stroh beer touched our lips for the first time ever, and while it wasn’t the Bud Heavy that we were accustomed to, it was ok. From the look on Kelli’s face, I could tell that it was a little bit of a letdown for her as well, but she smiled and nodded in the affirmative.

But free beer was free beer and we were two broke college students.  The cold did have a stifling effect on the amount of beer we drank, but we rallied as we made our way around and through the crowd.  My eyes scanned every face, searching for the girl in my class but to no avail.  I surmised that a brief window of opportunity to meet her and get to know her outside of class had closed and that was that.

My spirits dropped and the cold felt colder.  But I was there for the beer and I shook it off and plunged a hand in the frigid water for another couple of beers. Though I tried, it was just too cold. After only four or five, I asked Kelli if she was ready and she agreed, it was time to pack it in.

I had one last idea to salvage the evening.  I pulled Kelli close and reached into her jacket pocket. She stood by the cooler while I began to see how many cans of beer we could stuff on our person. I’m sure it was pretty obvious as to what we were doing, but we kept on.  When we had reached our limit, we bolted for the exit. I kept expecting security to tackle me, but I kept moving and when I passed through the exit, I just nodded at security.  It would have been impossible to wave or shake hands with anyone because both jacket sleeves were stuffed with beer cans.  We eased on through the exit and made our way to the car.  I noticed by the absence of many of the cars that we had held out longer than most.

My roommates were amazed the next morning to open the refrigerator to find 19 cans of beer where there had been none the night before.  Kelli and I were heroes for the moment because our caper had ranked right up there with the “great stadium cup find.” (Another story for another day)

I admit, looking back, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal, but remember this was in 1982 and I usually had $20 to last for the week, which included gas money.  That along with the fact that compared to a more recent DBeazy, who would consider the amount of beer we drank back then to be small.

You will be hard-pressed to find a single can of Stroh beer in the Mississippi today. I read an article about the Stroh family and their journey from selling beer door to door made from a family recipe in the 1850s to taking the company nationwide in the early 1980s. You can read about the Stroh story on your own if you find it interesting, but suffice it to say that the company had a good run and became the third-largest brewing operation in the country. The company made a huge run, but in the end, it couldn’t compete with Coors and was eventually, essentially, sold for parts.  The failure was largely contributable to losing the marketing game and I can’t help but wonder about its introduction to the Mississippi, and how the brand more or less tripped out of the gate due to cold weather and how it seemed to be a sign of the future of the entire company.