The lawnmower beer is what I say it is

I’ve probably talked about this before, and so I’ll undoubtedly do it again. 

When most beer people talk ‘lawnmower beers’ they are talking about beers they can have and then go back to work, sober enough to feel like they can accomplish something, refreshed enough that doing more work doesn’t seem like a horrific chores. Frequently these are lagers of some kind, and I cannot fault anyone wanting a good lager on a hot day.

I won’t speak for everyone, but I’d bet that a lot of people my age feel this way, and they get it in part from this scene:

“I think a man working outdoors feels more like a man if he can have a bottle of suds.” 

“….we sat and drank with the sun on our shoulders and felt like free men…We were the lords of all Creation.”


Now personally, I don’t get the idea of having a beer in the middle of a job. What’s the point? Sure, when you’re a convict you don’t really have a choice, but I’m just a dude sweating over a lawn. 

As my forearms began to ache, and the sweat trickled under the arms of my sunglasses, I kept thinking about how much I hate doing this. It’s why I do such a half-ass job of it. But as my vision began to become obscured by the moisture from my head, droplets burst from my mouth as I exerted to mow and rake and clean up, my back starting to protest, another thought worked its way in: You can totally have a beer when this is over. 

When it’s over. I won’t have to do more, I don’t have some other kind of effort to put out. I can say I’m done, and look out over the yard and go: Finished. I don’t have to touch this for two weeks. And I feel good about that. In some way, I feel like I’m carrying on a tradition of men and women everywhere who work like hell and sometimes the only reward they get is someone buying them a beer at the end of the day. Yeah, I get a little self-inflated sometimes. 

But I don’t want a pilsner or lager; and the beer in my fridge just doesn’t seem to work. So I walk down to the 7-11 and get a Grifter IPA from MacTarnahan’s, and open it up. 

The only way it could get better is if there was someone to split it with. But I get to share it here, and that’s alright too. 

Now I’m going to get a shower in, and enjoy my day. Hope you do too.

Edit: Post has been updated to reflect the proper maker of Grifter. Sorry everyone, and thank you, Bill for the correction.

2 thoughts on “The lawnmower beer is what I say it is”

  1. Ugh, mowing the lawn is one of the most pointless things we Norteamericanos do. Oh well, as the rain tapers off I will be able to put more and more weeks between mowings.

    I think you mean MacTarnahan’s/Portland/Pyramid/Magic Hat Grifter, not Bridgeport.

  2. If I owned the house, there would be no lawn–or a very small one, for certain.

    And I did mean MacTarnahan’s. Thanks for that. My bad!

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