Without a doubt, Schlitz is the shit. I got into it first because it was such a humorous throwback from the 70's (see Barry), and because it was such a great word to say - Schlitz. Schlitz. I asked around - I wasn't even sure if it was being made anymore. I got mixed responses - about half thought it was off the market. But then I found it in the local redemption center/beverage supplier. The can is seriously retro -that beige and brown hasn't changed since the 50's at least. And it was the cheapest stuff there. A six pack of 16-oz. cans was only $2.39. Even down in New York, you can find a 12-pack for five bucks. This began my obsession with the stuff. Not being of age, of course, I had to find suppliers for it, which always led to questions - "You drink that shit?" Yes. Yes I do. It's smoother than most of the other cheap beers - Coors, which is like dog piss, and Milwaukee's Best ("the Beast"), or, God forbid, Natty Ice. You can drink a lot of Schlitz very quickly. It comes in 32-oz. bottles, but I haven't seen a 40 anywhere. It may, however, exist.

But really, why Schlitz is the shit:

This brings in the whole mystique of Schlitz. It has the whole groovin' 70's thing to it. What Miller Lite is trying to do with "Dick" was done long before that ad campaign with Barry (spring of '96). But Barry doesn't promote Schlitz. It promotes itself. Legend has it that Schlitz gets its name from the sound it makes when you open a can - "Schlitzzzzzz." I got really Schlitzed one day and wrote a letter to the brewing company (Jos. Schlitz). It was an amazing feat of creative writing, consisting of phrases like this: "I remember back to the time when all you'd need for a fun afternoon was a couple of friends on your front porch and a case of Schlitz," and "My parents used to relent and let me finish off the last few sips of their Schlitz when I was a child. The taste always brings me back." I concluded by asking them to send me posters, beer glasses, or any promotional Schlitz items so I could "revive the Schlitz movement among the youth in my town." And they sent me two old posters, one from 1980 of a big pitcher of Schlitz, and one that's even older of two country singers (I forget who), with the caption, "It's time for a Schlitz Country Break." I began to collect Schlitz merchandise every time I visited old secondhand stores, antique shops and flea markets.

My collection now includes: There are actually still some bars in the less-populated towns of Maine (the Lewiston-Auburn section, for example), that sport Schlitz signs out on the walls hanging above their businesses. I thought about stealing one, but I have no idea how - they're about 15 feet off the ground, and bolted on, all wired up. There's a thrift store down in the East Village (Manhattan) where there's a neon Schlitz sign, but it's 200 dollars. I'll only go so far.


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