‘Twas the 12 Beers of Christmas: Santa Weighs In
Sitting around a campfire earlier this week, some friends and I came up with the ultimate New Jersey beer to drink on Christmas Eve. Truth be told, I was going to write about Carton’s Pumpkin Cream Ale. It’s a true pumpkin beer with pumpkin meat in the mash, orange oil, pink peppercorns and candied ginger that has enough spice in it smack the pie out of your grandma’s hands.
BUT, as luck would have it, a dude named Chris decided to pay us a visit and turned our beer knowledge on its head. So, with some help from the jolly big beer guy himself, here’s your Christmas Eve version of the 12 Beers of Christmas.
‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the bar
Friends came with beers from near and from far.
The goal was to sample, to trade and to taste
Fantastic holiday beers found in the Garden state.
It was such a great time, at least what I remember
So thankful to have all these friends in December.
After so many beers, my head spun in a stupor
We drank so much that night we got home in an Uber.
I landed in bed with a thud, my head pounding
When all of a sudden, a sound was arousing.
Such a bellow, such a howl, such a wondrous squelch
When I came to my senses, I realized it was a belch!
I sprang from my bed thinking someone just heaved
I’d be really pissed as I just got the dining room cleaned.
When tip-toeing into the room what appears?
A really fat guy—who drank all my beers!!!
He was dressed in all fur from his head to his toes
His eyes, they were glazed; so much red to his nose.
He staggered, he tripped, then he turned with glassy eyes
“Don’t worry bro…from here on, it’s the Reindeers who drive”.
With my buzz going strong my courage put to the test
I had to see which Jersey beer St. Nick thought the best
“Excuse me, kind sir with the jolliest of souls,
“What beer is your favorite to chill with at the North Pole?”
Santa who at first was a slurring, staggering mess
Composed himself quickly with a well timed address.
“There’s Carton, There’s Kane, there’s Demented and Flounder.
Winter Seasonals, Pumpkins, Dunkels and Sours.”
“Gingerbread Browns and Warmers and Roasts
So many beers—so many to toast!
Why pick just one when there’s so many to choose?
Don’t be such a beer snob, what have you got to loose!?”
With a twitch of his nose, and what I think was a fart
He flew up the chimney leaving my empties as discards.
It was at that point I realized Santa’s lesson
No need to pick just one when there’s so many to session!
Looking around my room, my tree filled with presents
I collected the bottles and cans Santa left in his absence.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
A few sips left to fill me with cheer.
I drank back the drops, unsure of what I should do
Was Santa just here? Did he really chug all my brews?
When from my roof such a clatter, I ran to catch sight
Of a fat drunk guy screaming—“To all a good-night!”