If you’ve been to the LCBO or beer store in the last year, you’ve probably seen large standees advertising Light Lime beers which have been designed to be tasty summer beverages. I thought about buying a number of them and sampling them and making elaborate tasting notes in order to see what all the fuss is about. I’m not sure that they actually qualify as beer, though. This is a beer blog after all, not a tasty summer beverage blog. If I reviewed them seriously I might have to include Lemonade and Pimm’s No. 1 Cup, and that diverges wildly from my mission statement.
Of course, it would be unfair to talk about Light Lime beers without a standard set of criteria, and that’s why I have taken a break from beer blogging today in order to engage in a sociological experiment with incredibly strict pseudo-scientific parameters that were approved by my junior researchers. I want to represent Light Lime beer with the journalistic integrity that befits its dignity. I tend to view the emergence of these product lines as a social phenomenon that I don’t get. For this reason I will be comparing Light Lime beers with other social phenomena I don’t completely understand, to wit: very small dogs and iPhones.
|Lime Flavoured Beer||Very Small Dogs||iPhones|
|Varieties already in evidence||Bud Light Lime||The Shih-Poo, The Bich-Poo, The Chi-Poo, The Malti-Poo||3G, 3GS|
|New for 2010||Miller Chill, Red Baron Lime, Moosehead Light Lime||The Shipooperke, the MaltiBichShiChi-Poo||4G|
|Mouthfeel||Syrupy, vaguely unpleasant||Depends on preparation method||Tastes like voided warranty|
|Can be consumed||Only if you’re really desperate||Only if you’re really desperate||Not even once desperation sets in|
|Transportable||Comes with a handle for an easy stumble back to your fraternity||Comes with a prada knockoff handbag for easy transport||Fits in a pocket|
|Makes a mess on the sidewalk||Yes, but only after you’ve had quite a few||Just try and stop it!||Only if dropped|
|Accessories||Golf shirt with a popped collar, livestrong bracelet.||Little tiny booties, collar that says “princess” even on male dogs.||Protective jacket, muted grumbling since the office insists on having your number.|
|Likely to meet its demise||When poured down the drain by beer nerds; During a frat house beer luge.||If it gets underfoot. Or when flung across the room in a fit of pique.||If it gets underfoot. Or When flung across the room in a fit of pique.|
|Cost||$12.25, brah.||Around $600||Around $600|
|Recyclable||Both the bottle and its contents||In a “circle of life” kind of way, I guess||Hopefully, since it’ll be obsolete in five months.|
|Potential for regret||Nearly immediate||Once the novelty wears off||Once planned obsolescence kicks in|
Let us think about what we’ve learned from this experiment:
1) Lime flavoured beers are probably tastier than very small dogs and may even make an excellent marinade for them in the event of complete societal breakdown.
2) While lime flavoured beers are cheaper than either a very small dog or an iPhone, you would feel silly calling a lime flavoured beer “Mr. Fluffikins” or attempting to access facebook by staring at an empty bottle.
3) If you absolutely have to buy in to one of these social phenomena, you should probably get the iPhone. It will direct you to places where you can acquire a mid-size sports utility dog and a decent pint of beer. There are apps for that.