The Enemy Within
Read this bio and see if you can
guess who this man is:
He confesses the best beer he ever had was a
Busch. He stresses moderation and responsibility
to the point that even MADD thinks he’s a swell
guy. He drinks six to eight beers a week and refuses
to let visitors post messages about being drunk on
his website. He instructs his followers to drink
less than the government's suggested limit. He suggests
beer drinkers are a step below average men. And finally,
he admits he has never been drunk in his entire life,
even while sampling 25-cent beers in Honduras. Nor
does he ever wish to be drunk.
So he’s a spineless lightweight with bad taste
in beer, you’re thinking. Maybe a low-level
politician eager to appear one of the guys, but playing
it very safe with the prohibition set.
Well, he’s much more than that. His name is
Dennis Buettner and he’s the founder, commissioner,
and self-appointed captain of the U.S. Beer Drinking
Team. Not the Dennis Buettner Drinking Team, not
the Lower Buffalo Valley Beer Drinking Team, but
the goddamn U.S. Beer Drinking Team.
Which is akin to a guy who occasionally enjoys a
McRib Sandwich declaring in the national press that
he is, in fact, the BBQ King of America. His outrageous
presumptuousness aside, what disturbs me most about
Mr. Buettner is in all his forty years he has
never been drunk nor wants to be. What manner
of professed beer lover could lack the desire, courage,
or just plain human curiosity to drink those extra
beers that convey you to a better, happier place?
I’ll wager even Billy Graham and the president
of MADD have gotten drunk at least once.
What manner of self-respecting beer drinker would
follow him? It’s akin to England, faced with
the furious assault of the Nazi machine, being told
it’s going to be led to victory by a restroom
attendant who wholeheartedly confesses his military
experience consists of watching his pet tabby tussle
with a cat toy. Just when this country was starting
to resurrect its collective drinking reputation,
this punk comes along, declares himself our leader,
then spends the next 24 hours struggling to knock
back a single goddamn beer.
At best this man is merely a crass opportunist attempting
to sell T-Shirts and merchandise to a large and disorganized
group hungry for leadership. And with 20,000 members,
his organization has probably sold more than a few.
But there lies the riddle: He had to know his beer-a-day,
never-been-drunk proclamation would set him up for
ridicule among even moderate drinkers and only serve
to damage his merchandise sales.
Which leads me to view Mr. Buettner in a much darker
light. He is, consciously or otherwise, an active
agent of the neo-prohibitionists. He is setting up
a false standard. A man drinking the FDA-approved
two beers a day can now be told: “Great God!
Do you realize you’re drinking twice as
much as the Captain of the freaking U.S. Beer
Drinking Team? You’re obviously some kind
of alcoholic monster!”
A weak enemy within is much more dangerous than a
powerful enemy without. Which is why, when the battle
comes down, I will fall in behind a besotted Churchill,
and the Busch-sipping Mr. Buettner can go crash with
his one-beer buzz.
Frank Kelly Rich
