Folks, It’s Miller Time

After a hard day’s work, sometimes I like to kick back and enjoy the full-bodied, unpretentious flavor of a Miller High Life. Let’s be frank, it truly is the motherfucking champagne of beers.

Oh, I hear what you’re saying. And I do enjoy me a high end microbrew. This year I’m liking pale ales and fall beers, especially Leinenkugel Marzen-style Oktoberfest. Usually I alternate between Samuel Smith imports and beers brewed in the Pacific Northwest, because buying local is something you don’t have to belong to the green cult to see the sense in. Supporting the home team and putting money back into the community that employs you is economically sound. If our “leaders” hadn’t sold their souls to rootless globalist opportunists–if they’d followed the same basic principal–our economy would probably be a lot more solid.

I like Sierra Nevada, but with the exception of film, I avoid products from the People’s Republic of California because I’m against California. I’d be happy to buy movies at import prices if California would just do the right thing and secede. Seriously, fuck California. I lived there for almost a decade, the state took plenty of my money, and it’s still practically (and morally) bankrupt. Fuck California, fuck it in the face.

But anyway, yeah. Some days I like to put on some Merle Haggard, some Johnny Cash, some Tennessee Ernie Ford. I don’t always feel like spending 9 bucks on a 6-pack. I want to get in touch with my roots…a couple of generations of Pennsylvania Railroad men and grandpa with his fuel oil business.Pap drank Pabst, but I’m sure he wouldn’t have a bad word to say about enjoying a bit of the High Life.

I moved 16 commercial grade treadmills into a building, up an elevator and across a building today. By myself. The deck weighs about 375 pounds, and getting them on a hand truck, into the elevator and down requires a series of 3 lifts, something like a 125 pound hang clean with an isometric curl that lasts until I pop it up the last time. I made it look easy. Like a fucking blue collar ballet.

You will never really know what this means or care. And that’s fine. I like what I do. It’s satisfying. My feet and lower legs are shaking, my legs and traps still hurt from Saturday, and I will be interested to see if my right shoulder is tweaked tomorrow. But I’m happy as a pig in shit all the same. Here’s me with my Miller High Life. I earned it.

Oh, yeah…some kid passed us as music blared out of our truck and asked:

“Are you guys listening to the Gladiator soundtrack?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s awesome.”

Yeah, son. It is awesome.

“Some people say a man is made out of mud. A poor man’s made out of muscle and blood…”

Miller’s made the American way.

“You don’t give your word, then go back on a deal. You don’t shake a man’s hand unless that’s how you feel. Your good will shows, you mean what you say. It’s man to man – The American Way.”

The hits just keep on coming. “If you’ve got the time, we’ve got the beer.”

Oh fuck yes. “Beer, dear?”

3 Responses to “Folks, It’s Miller Time”

1. Monad says:

   December 15, 2009 at 8:38 am

   Such was the past (even as recently as 86), where men could be men and women…well, who gives a fuck eh, they can sort it out for themselves.

   You know what I find great about you Jack? It’s that you are a man. You may not be interested in the feminine, in a sexual sense, but you have more masculinity than Joe Smo trying to get his end wet down the local bar.

   I remember saying to a bunch of women that effeminiacy was that men found distasteful about gay men. I said that this is that made men ‘cringe’ when they were around them. I don’t think they could get the distinction between gay an effeminate (there are effeminate straight men too).

   Now, I have been the liberal dude going out with other chicks to the local gay bar, and I have to say I had a good time (I guess they thought I was so ‘evolved’ a man to do so). But you know as much as I accept effeminate gay dudes, I have nothing in common with them.

   But what is interesting, is that I have more in common with you (for example, as I see what feminism is doing to masculinity) than I could ever have in common with other dudes trying to get into some entitled bytches pants.

   In short, you have further enlightened me that masculinity is not about dudes fucking how many chicks, but what a man’s convictions are, how his convictions shape his actions and his actions are what matters.

   Cheers Jack

   Monad
2. Jack Donovan says:

   December 16, 2009 at 6:56 pm

   Thanks, man. If that’s what I’m getting across I must be doing something right–definitely one of my favorite blog comments.
3. Linkage is Good for You: We’re All Going to Die Edition | In Mala Fide says:

   December 20, 2009 at 3:46 pm

   [...] Jack Donovan – “What Feminists Are Peddling“, “Folks, It’s Miller Time” [...]