The Pigeon

I share this narrative with a degree of trepidation as my questionable character may come under further scrutiny.

Having consulted with those that have been along for the ride, I have been convinced to tell the tale; sharing the details of my fifty-two-years of consumption, if not only for the raw data but more as a deterrent to our younger followers, not to mention its considerable therapeutic value for the author.

As mentioned in previous posts, I have had a life-long love affair with beer.  In addition to its appealing taste, it has been a conduit to family, friends and business associates as well as a bit of an elixir during troubling times. Has it been an addiction, a crutch or simply a very guilty pleasure; possibly all of the above!

I was raised in an environment where alcohol, mostly beer, was part of our culture.  It was not unusual for our parents to have a drink or two with dinner and to enjoy its pleasures in social situations at the American Legion or with the Eckman’s, Heerwagen’s and/or the Monticello’s as they huddled around our circular kitchen table. Delicacies such as sardines, pigs’ feet, pigs’ knuckles and Limburger cheese were on the menu during those weekend endeavors with their buddies. In addition, my grandfather (Herb) on my father’s side, was known to have an occasional boilermaker (a shot and a beer) as he prepared for another day of peddling bread and pastries for Schaeffer’s Bakery. This boilermaker scenario, in itself, was quite a coup as my grandmother (Hazel) was a teetotaler, a God-fearing woman and the absolute ruler of the roost. Warm Rheingold’s and/or Schaefer’s were hidden in the rafters of my grandfather’s basement workshop.

I was never particularly interested in sneaking a beer as a youngster as I was always permitted a sip or two upon request. My first beer, outside of our home, was one week prior to my high school graduation.

In the fall of 1972, at the age of seventeen, I went off to school, to attend Lebanon Valley College in Annville, PA.  In short order, Don (best friend, roommate and fellow basketball player) and I were embraced by our older teammates, who were kind enough to share numerous eye-opening experiences, far surpassing those served up at 65 Washington Avenue in Springfield, NJ.  Access to the discriminating pleasantries of Genesee Cream Ale, Black Label, Piel’s, Stroh’s and Miller High Life (the Champagne of Bottled Beer) were common place.  Not to mention, local establishments, including but not limited to the Hillcrest Supper Club, Rich’s Bar, Hotel Annville, Gin Mill and the Washington Tavern willingly served two young lads who didn’t own razors and looked closer to thirteen than their actual age.

As I approached this topic with my fifty-two-year-old friend (Don) in an attempt to sort out the economic impact of my tomfoolery, his response was as follows; “Let’s cut to the chase, you drank a Bentley! This is really simplistic mathematics; you have spent $10 a day on beer for fifty-two-years!” Finding his retort both humorous and horrifying, I elected to take a “deeper dive”, seeking the truth to his misguided “down and dirty” fabrication!

Don’s “Down and Dirty” Calculation:

• 18,980 (days) x $10- (day) = $189,800

“Deeper Dive” Assumptions:

• Total Days: 18,980
• Drank 60% of Days: 11,388
• Average Cost/Beer: $1.75
• Average Consumption/Day: 3
• Total Beers Consumed: 34,168
• Bought Rounds: 15% of 34,168 = 5,125
• Average Tip/Beer: $1
• Cases/Year: 18
• Average Cost/Case: $12

“Deeper Dive” Calculation:

• $79,995 (Beer) + $39,293 (Tips) = $119,288
• 2024 Bentley Bentayga Base Price: $205,925

*These totals do not take into consideration food and/or snack consumption. I am affectionately known as “The Pigeon” by my fellow Lancaster Liederkranz members for my exuberant grazing on Groff’s Chips and Hammond Pretzels.

Simply stated, based on the empirical data; Don’s claims of drinking a Bentley has proven to be a gross exaggeration; possibly a 2024 Mercedes “S” Class.

In the event I had adhered to my grandmother’s philosophy and had taken an oath of abstinence, I am quite certain I wouldn’t be raking bunkers, mowing greens and fairways at the age of seventy!

As a follow-up to our “Pigeon” post, we have established a “Go Fund Me” account to subsidize the engagement of my personal accounting firm (James M. Hook & Co.) to extrapolate the “time value of money/compounding effect” of my shenanigans! Stay tuned.

Footnote:  My wife has elected to throw a flag on the “Down and Dirty” as well as the “Deeper Dive” calculations; suggesting both calculations are a bunch of “hooey”! 

Thank you for following Bad Golf Guy…The back nine can only get better!