The acceptance/arrival of beer & brew discrimination as a deal as big as wine connoisseuring vaguely amuses this reporter, who remembers the mid-later (not the later-later) 19-&-60s, when the guys from whom I took cues in being a hippie, weird-o, freak or fringie referred to the beer-swilling Philistine element as "foamies". ("Jocks", more or less, to you, mainstream American.)
But soon mere reefer wasn't enough to keep us medicated in the United Snakes of '68, & we were on the hard stuff, hanging in front of the local tavern waiting for a likely suspect to buy us some sickeningly sweet Alhambra Loganberry wine over the counter & hand it over so we could drink it in the alleys of Capitol Hill.
In the salad days of Bouffant elbow-bending it was high-proof hard liquor beginning w/ Bacardi 151° rum mixed w/ Dr Pepper; eventually I decided to cut down on the mixer (& attendant vomiting) & stick w/ merely 101° Wild Turkey all over the rocks. And plenty of waterbacks.
Now it's beer beer beer & nothing but beer all over town, O.K. by me as virtually all wine has an onion-like aftertaste to me (Boring explanations of this phenomenon cheerfully accepted, if you have one.) & I'm just not as interested as I once was in getting rapidly drunk & potentially out of control on the harder spirits.
You may have seen this swill advertised on the telly several hundred thousand times in the last day or two;