Long before it was a hipster brand — back when pop-top cans ruled the Earth and Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark ruled the air — Pabst Blue Ribbon was making young adult males like me attractive, interesting and desirable to the opposite sex (at least for 20 minutes).
Those who have experienced “The Pabst Moment” know what I’m talking about.
My moment was a summer at my aunt’s in rural Connecticut, a girl named Julie, a Package Store with PBR six packs for $2.99, and a long farmhouse road.
Don’t know where Julie is, but I still love Pabst to this very day.
