This is an ode, an ode to the beer we long to never have again, but will never forget. This is an ode to the first beer you gagged down trying to impress your friends in high school. This is an ode to Milwaukee’s Best, the Beast.

Sure, your dad may have snuck you a Spotted Cow at Christmas one year or maybe you got a Sam Adams on Thanksgiving, but often the first beer you ever had to suffer down, the first true beer you drank with your friends, is forgotten.

Heinekens, Coronas, Genuine Draft and Dos Equis all have grandiose commercials for their “far superior tasting” beer. But their marketing teams need a reality check. Only the elites and 1 percenters drink beer for the taste. I drink beer for the memories … or lack thereof.

Some could argue students put taste on the back burner because “college kids are just trying to find the cheapest way to get drunk,” which is true for some, but not for me. I contend Milwaukee’s Best to be the best beer God has bestowed on this Earth.

Comedian Stephen Colbert once mentioned the Beast saying it “got its name because it’s the best way to wash out the taste of Old Milwaukee.”

So, at the very least it is above Old Milwaukee on the best beer list.

When I see a can of Milwaukee’s Best chilling on ice, I see all the good old days right before me.

I know what you’re thinking. “Close the yearbook man, move on with your life.” I have closed the yearbook, but that doesn’t mean I can’t sit back and relax, drinking a good old can of memories.

Now, I’m not trying to argue Spotted Cow isn’t amazing or that a Corona on a hot summer day is not fantastic. But for anyone who “can’t close the high school yearbook,” like myself, it is the first beer you swigged that is forever the best worst beer you’ll ever have.

Without the bad, the good would go unappreciated. If it was not for “The Beast” how would I be able to truly appreciate a Coors or Miller Light. Life has ups and downs, and Milwaukee’s Best is a down that makes anyone who’s ever taken a drink of it love the ups.

It smells like skunk and tastes like urine, but the aftertaste tastes like memories. We drink beer for memories we will soon forget, in commemoration of our greatest memories.