The Seltzer Wars

I don't write on this blog much anymore. The reasons are numerous. I'm 32, I'm not single and most of my readers have traded in their Tory Burch clutch for a giant mom bag full of diapers. It's fine, I don't hold it against you. But it is a bit shocking that even the 'younger kids' from college are now in full blown 'I have a family' mode while I stayed up until 9am last Saturday making questionable life decisions. Whatever floats your boat right? A lot of my contemporaries always looked forward to getting married and having children, I always looked forward to watching the sunrise and spending Sundays in bed ordering delivery and watching Netflix. We're both living our dream.

One thing has caught my attention lately, a topic that I am undoubtedly an expert on: bro culture. What specifically interests me is the rise of hard seltzer and White Claw. Well, I am here today to weigh in on the debate, and to accurately predict who will win the war. So whether you want to make sure you look the coolest at Homecoming this October (I'll be there by the way) or you're looking for a hot stock tip that might fund that lake house purchase later this year, pay close attention to the next few paragraphs, and maybe you'll learn a thing or two.

It begins...

The first time I heard about White Claw was Halloween 2018. Someone invited me to a pregame that was going to be "flowing with white claws" which I assumed was some archaic colloquialism that indicated cocaine. You can imagine my surprise when I showed up to said party and saw the aforementioned White Claws, a thin white can with a large wave inviting you to crack one and let your troubles wash away like a midnight tide.

After spending the better part of a decade in a writer's room, I was familiar with the seltzer craze. Writers pound grapefruit La Croix like I slam whiskeys at an open bar wedding. However, I had never seen the 'hard' version before. I took a sip and as predicted it was disgusting and I moved on to a shot of Fireball because some things never change.

I didn't see much more of the Claws until the spring, at this point a challenger had emerged; Truly. Similarly packaged though with a slightly more feminine touch. I figured hard seltzers were intended for women that didn't want to be seen hammering beers all day. Perhaps they were more 'lady-like.' Maybe a woman ordering a hard seltzer didn't feel as guilty drinking a refreshing beverage on a warm summer day as she would being the only one at the pool guzzling down a thick double IPA. The drink was however marketed similarly as the Virginia Slim cigarette, it's not as bad for you because it's skinny and at a casual 5% ABV no one would actually become intoxicated on these.

Lifestyle Brand

My initial assumptions proved to be false as I attended a Joshua Tree excursion at the beginning of the summer. White Claw meme culture was just setting in, but it wasn't until I arrived at a pool party of privileged white males listening to 'Kygo' and sipping on Black Cherry Claws that I knew exactly what had happened. 

The bros had co-opted seltzer culture.

It makes sense if you think about it. The crisp refreshing taste of a hard seltzer embodies the care free lifestyle that most former rich Greeks strive for. No stress, no consequences, laid back, having a good time. I heard some guy announce "Ain't no laws when you're on the claws" before doing a cannonball into the pool, thoroughly soaking everyone in attendance. It's just got a better ring to it than "Gettin unruly on the Truly."

I decided to give the White Claw another chance and this time I realized I quite enjoyed it, not because the taste had changed, but because White Claw had become a lifestyle brand, the brand of people that wear backward hats, flip flops, polos, comically short shorts, and think that while Trump is a pretty bad president, eh, they'll be fine.

Hot girl summer was here and as long as we had Claws on deck it might never end.

A New Challenger Emerges

In some circles there continued to be a debate of seltzer supremacy between White Claws and Truly. We haven't seen such a fierce split in this country since the rise of identity politics or the Harry Potter sorting hat quiz first went online. But over time, White Claw pulled ahead for a substantial lead. Bon & Viv and Truly hung on for relevance as a second and third respective choice whenever White Claws were sold out (quite common). Though it seemed the Claws would be the drink of choice for 18-35 year olds without student debt moving forward. 

Then on Monday August 12th, everything changed.

Natty Light, the preferred cheap beer of frats everywhere introduced two new hard seltzers 'The Catalina Lime Mixer' and 'Aloha Beaches' which cleverly sounds like 'bitches' if you say it in a funny accent. After successfully launching Naturdays last year, it seemed that this newly self-aware Natty Light could be primed to take out the alpha dog.

But that wasn't all. Shortly thereafter PBR threw their name into the ring...but the biggest bomb came later that night when Four Loko, yes the Four Loko that used to make you shit yourself in 2010 and then wake up two days later in a bush, was also entering the Seltzer Wars.

I knew at that exact moment what I was put on this Earth to do. Now without further ado, let's break down the competitors.

Four Loko

ABV: 14%

Target: Alcoholics, frat guys, poor people

Coming in at a 14% ABV in a 24 ounce can, it seems like Four Loko's entry is more of a stunt. During welcome week parties in the Big Ten some guy named Chad will show up with these at a pregame and it will be fucking hilarious. The next thing that will happen is Chad and his friend Jenny will wake up in jail because they drank six of these and then broke into some townie's house and started barking at his dog.

While the original Four Loko served the purpose of blacking you out as quickly and as cheaply as possible, hard seltzers pride themselves on being drinkable, one of the few adult beverages that you can enjoy all day and then still have a chance of making it out that night. If you were to drink two large Four Loko seltzers at noon you will undoubtedly have wet your bed by 7pm. So while I endorse this move in my capacity as an unofficial Four Loko brand ambassador, I don't see this taking off, though it could certainly lead to some fraternity hijinks ie 'icing' in the near future.

PBR

ABV: 8%

Target: Poor Hipsters

The PBR entry is really confusing to me. PBR is the official drink of hipsters, specifically poor hipsters. Pull up to any bar in Silverlake and you can see a guy with a well manicured beard sucking on a can of the ribbon. Maybe it's because he's from Wisconsin, maybe it's because becoming a performance artist isn't really paying the bills. One thing is for certain, that guys was a fucking GDI and he hates frat guys, therefore he hates this whole trend. Every time this guy hears 'Saturdays are for the Boys' he dies a little inside. This guy is actively cyber bullying Joe Biden on Twitter because Joe isn't going to forgive his student debt for the Art History degree he got at Cal State Northridge.

The 8% PBR may have filled the comedy role when it was conceived, but the moment Four Loko doubled down with its entry, PBR lost all strategic positioning. The only corner they have left is to be the 'working man's seltzer,' but then again, union guys probably think hard seltzer is for girls and libs. I expect this to be a total disaster and be pulled off the shelves by the end of 2019. 

Bon & Viv

ABV: 4.5%

Target: Women, Health Conscious

Bon & Viv is the Ravenclaw of hard or "spiked" seltzers. It's nobodies favorite, but it's generally agreed upon that out of the Big 3, it is number two. Neither a Truly person or a White Claw person would take offense to drinking a B&V (I thought they were called Bon Ivers for two months). Following in the tradition of the Bartles and Jaymes, Zima Mike's Hard and Smirnoff Ice, B&V is geared largely toward women. It features a super rad can with two mermaids, has 90 calories and zero grams of sugar while still packing 4.5% alcohol. An anorexic could drink this shit and convince herself that she wouldn't get fat.

The slightly lower alcohol content also means that a person on-the-go can have a few of these and then drive to pick up their kids without the risk of a DUI. I wouldn't be surprised to see Gen X really grasp onto these and also folks in the athletic community. I've done a few triathlons and seen way too many people drinking Miller 64, now they have an alternative.

Natty

ABV: 6%

Target: Bros, College

When I was in college Natty's marketing machine was fairly quiet. They were the budget arm of Anheuser Busch and that was that. Meanwhile Keystone Light dominated the frat scene at my college because everyone was trying to find a god damn orange can. Well AB must have noticed because shortly after my graduation, Natty really started leaning into the college scene sponsoring Barstool heroes like Smylie Kaufman, throwing epic tailgate parties and even launching a pink lemonade beer called Naturdays. Last year they even launched a 77 pack in certain liquor stores in Maryland.

The question is not whether or not Natty seltzer will catch on anywhere; it will. The question is can it go mainstream? You're certain to see cases of this shit at your local Sigma Chi chapter during homecoming, but will 20somethings at the Manhattan Beach Open be crushing these on the Strand this weekend? It's hard to say. Another thing that is synonymous with hard seltzer is an 'elite' lifestyle. Natty is clearly not elite. They've already publicly stated that their price point will be $3 less than White Claw. They don't want the Hollywood Hills parties, though you'll find them at plenty in Westwood.

Truly

ABV: 5%

Target: Contrarians, People that don't want to be associated w/ bro culture

Where did it go wrong for Truly? It launched around the same time as White Claw in 2016 and enjoyed a fairly anonymous run its first two years. In fact, you could say that Truly got off to a better start when the hard seltzer craze was just starting to bubble in 2018. Though since then it's been all Claw. White Claw was the largest growth brand in the world the week of July 4th this year because, well no shit. Is there a bigger holiday for the bros? It's not all negative for Truly though. All ships rise with the tide. The segment was up to 500 million last year and the year over year growth for hard seltzer was 200% in April, long before the trend peaked.

Furthermore, the more Claws get associated with bros, the more some folks will choose to distance themselves from it. Despite the fact that I have never met someone that doesn't love to absolutely rip it on the weekends, apparently there are people that think being a 'bro' is a bad thing. (They all work for Vox and love to talk about their depression) There will continue to be room for Truly even if it will climb the top of the mountain. As the great Ric Flair once said, 'To be the man, you gotta beat the man.'

White Claw

ABV: 5%

Target: Bros, hot chicks that know they're hot, center-right millennials, trust fund kids, the elite

There likely hasn't been a trend that grasped a community this hard since Fireball came out in 2012. You might remember staggering around a tailgate field and watching people pass around this bottle of cinnamon elixir. They all looked the same, they were all smiling, they hadn't a care in the world. A hit at every wedding, lake day or otherwise, Fireball completely enraptured the world. Four Loko did so before Fireball. Jagermeister did so before Four Loko. You may have seen the memes that Four Lokos walked so White Claws could run. It's an apt comparison. Somehow White Claw became the official drink of every person whose dad owns a dealership. With a divided nation politically and everyone on social media having a fucking 'brand' associating yourself with one that screams youthful ignorance, generational wealth and a bit of blissful apathy doesn't seem that bad. White Claw people go on cool vacations. White Claw people party with their shirts off. White Claw people worry about things later. The question is, how long do the Claws stay on top?

If trendy booze has taught us anything, the Claws have a good 2-3 years before they become stale. Then they'll slip into comical nostalgia like the guy that brings a bottle of Jager to a party in 2019. I predict it will have slightly better staying power as White Claw has become the category leader in a somewhat new space. As long as hard seltzers are around, White Claw will be relevant, but no one lives forever and the sad downfall of White Claw will eventually be a story you read on Buzz Feed. But let's not think about that now, let's shotgun a claw and raise a toast to the dog days of summer '19.

Official Rankings

1. White Claw

2. Natty

3. Bon & Viv

4. Truly

5. Four Loko

6. PBR

Where'd You Go, Grape Kamchatka?

I always thought it was fun to take photos holding a giant bottle of vodka.

This was literally my first ever profile photo on Facebook. It says a lot about me. First of all, I drink and therefore I am cool. But also I have impeccable style and at least one friend, who I can physically dominate. I mean look at that navy blue NBA headband and that blue and green striped J Crew polo. Who the fuck wouldn’t want to hang out with me?

I’ve zoomed in on the photo and it appears to be Dark Eyes vodka. I don’t remember it having a profound effect on me, just one of the numerous suitors in the days pre-Kamchatka. Freshman year was a blur of hazing, awkward sexual encounters and drinking lots and lots of Skol in my dorm room before basketball games. I think back then we could get a half gallon bottle for about 7 dollars.

It’s ironic that I drank the piss that I did. Like any self-respecting frat guy, I had an ‘emergency credit card’ in college which acted as an unlimited line of credit that I would never have to pay. I suppose it was just some misplaced solidarity or the need to assimilate that kept me consuming the vile bottom row vodka with my peers. Alas, I started to grow a real fondness for it.

I don’t remember the exact moment Kamchatka entered my life, but it was likely sometime in late 2006 or early 2007. The first photographic evidence I found after a cursory search of my Facebook library points to March 2007, right around the ramp up to Spring Break and Little 500. Alas, this was the flavorless Kamchatka, a slight upgrade over the gasoline that was our traditional swill. 

Further research shows the first appearance of flavored Kamchatka as December of 2007. If you look at the man in the far right of this photo and draw a line down from his left elbow you will see it, 35% alcohol, 100% perfection: grape Kamchatka.

There were rumors that it wasn’t even really vodka, that it was some sort of grain alcohol infused with artificial flavors. Some would say that drinking enough of it might render you temporarily blind. We didn’t care. We just knew that by drinking a half a bottle of this we would hit the town with enough inflated confidence to fight a fucking shark.

The grape Kamchatka really hit the mainstream in 2008 and 2009. ‘Twas a staple at every tailgate, every boat trip. By the end of a four-hour session on Lake Monroe the 1.75 liter bottles would be half full of sea water, but we didn’t care. If the alcohol was strong enough to cause blindness surely it could handle a little dirty water.

Unfortunately, I graduated after four years. I moved to Chicago and I lost the family credit card. My Kamchatka consumption would no longer be a luxury but a necessity. Though as hard as I scoured the windy city, I could never find what I sought.

Fortunately, I was still quasi-dating a couple students at IU as fuckboys do. Thus, I could always look forward to my next trip down to campus. A football game, Homecoming, Little 500, a random fucking party in the middle of February that would help me forget about selling computer software.

But one day I arrived at the Big Red liquor store and realized it was gone. No grape Kamchatka. Not even Cherry. Nothing.

Thinking that this surely must be an anomaly I traveled to the other five liquor stores around town and they all told me the same thing. 

“It just stopped coming.”

There were of course rumors flying around that Bloomington had ‘banned’ the beverage due to numerous cases of alcohol poisoning; a Four Loko situation all over again.

This story made sense. We drank grape ‘chatch straight and typically without chaser. It would often make me do things like this…

And this…

So I drove down to Bedford. Surely Indiana University would have less influence in neighboring towns, but again I found the same. Grape Kamchatka had disappeared into thin air.

Eventually I moved to California and would think less and less about the elixir of my youth. When I would travel back home I would see that Karkov and some other imitators had attempted to fill the gap left by Kamchatka’s departure, but none of them quite measured up.

Over the years as eCommerce and alcohol delivery improved I would periodically search for a long lost bottle. It would be a huge hit at some sort of reunion, perhaps a fifth exchange. Maybe I would hang it over my bed like a trophy from my youth.

I came close once, finding a listing in Union, NJonly to find out that the bottle was long gone. I would bring up my search to friends from all over the country and started to realize, this may have been a fairly narrow niche from the beginning.

Just today I did a search for “grape Kamchatka.”

There were only three English results.

The first is a girl that clearly went to Indiana and explains how Cherry (not Grape Kamchatka) was instrumental in her dropping out. (Actually you should read her post, it’s really good!)

The second is an Ohio liquor distributer’s ordering guide for 2013.

The third was my friend Jen trying to get all the IU Pi Phis together for a reunion last year. Hi Jen, hope it was fun.

So what ever happened to grape Kamchatka anyway? If you just google “Kamchatka” you will learn that it is (or at least was) one of the highest selling vodkas in America…at least in the Midwest (it was distributed out of Kentucky)

Could it be that Bloomington was just a test market for grape and cherry flavors for a very specific time from 2007-2009? You would be hard pressed to find anyone that studied in Bloomington during that time that doesn’t harbor strong feelings about it one way or the other.

I find myself chasing parts of nostalgia from my youth often. I buy a Four Loko (non-caffeinated – boo) once in a while because it reminds me of going to bars like Gamekeepers in Chicago (RIP) I buy a jager bottle now and again because it reminds me of my absurd pregames in Florence. Shit, I even bought a sixer of Zima last year because it reminded me of the icing craze from a few years back,.

I just want one more bottle of grape Kamchatka so I can remember waking up on a spring Friday in Bloomington, sending out a mass BBM to all my homies in the Greek system and inviting them over for a darty…or leaving the tailgate to keep it going at my house with a DJ that also moonlighted as an accountant, blasting ‘Country Roads,’ showering beers while passersby shook their head, either in total disgust or complete envy.

I don’t know if I’ll ever find that bottle of grape Kamchatka that I’m looking for, but I’ll never stop trying. Perhaps it’s an overarching metaphor for my lost youth. But as long as there is still hope for one bottle out there, I will maintain a purpose. 

If you have any info on how to acquire grape Kamchatka (or even cherry) please reach out or let me know in the comments!

Always Remember Us This Way

A lot has happened since the last time I posted on this blog...

I've traveled to Australia, New Zealand, Germany, Serbia and England. Indiana basketball has lost something like 60 consecutive basketball games, I've advanced in age and I'm no longer the "single" dude in LA.

Of course my beloved Star is Born (inspiration for the title to this post!) was also beaten by a movie written by the Dumb and Dumber guy that attempted to solve racism...BUT I DIGRESS.

I'm 32 now. The vast majority of my social sphere is either already in their 30's or knocking on the door. I've always been very aware of my age. Age is something that was a big deal to me because I felt so immature and behind throughout most of my life. Last to get a girlfriend, last to get a good job, last to grow up. At 30 I was unemployed, single, living in a triple and had overdrawn my checking account. (LOL there were no savings)

NOT GREAT BOB!

So you could see why I became obsessed with the number. At 22 that type off behavior is expected. At 26 it's passable. At 30 it just begins to look pathetic.

Some time over the past 2 years I decided I would stop comparing myself to people from my past; beating myself up over things like engagements, baby announcements and promotions on LinkedIn.

That motherfucker is an EVP? HOW?! I let him copy ALL of my answers on a Stats final. Now he has 2 kids, a beautiful wife and flies business class? FUCK THAT GUY!

You see how one could spiral quite quickly. You start thinking about choices you made long ago and how the ripples have been devastating ever since.

If I wouldn't have skipped that P&G dinner that one time, would I be a sales director in Ohio? If I wouldn't have worn my stupid fucking purple tie to that Target interview would I own a 2 bedroom condo in St. Paul? Did I always prioritize partying above everything else in my life and has this since destroyed me? The answer is probably not to all of the above, but these are the thoughts that creep into your head moments before you fall asleep.

What jolted me this past year wasn't ME turning 32 it was other people from my life getting older. It was my brother turning 28, it was the Sophomore Kappas not being Sophomores anymore (they're all fucking 30!) it was people that I used to babysit getting married and divorced and holy shit when did all of this happen?

With every relationship I form, I default to a certain time in our life and hold onto it. With my college buddies it will always be the corner of 7th and Indiana, after a tailgate, blaring Country Roads. It's raining beer, the shorts are short. No one is wearing sunscreen. Not a care in the world.

My high school friends, we're driving around in an old station wagon figuring out somewhere to go. I'm thinking of a lie to tell my parents why I'm going to miss curfew. I honestly don't even have anything better to do, I just feel like hanging out and talking for a while longer.

I'm back in Chicago. I'm in a basement on Burling Street staying up way too late making questionable decisions on a school night, Beaumont is open until 4am, 5 on a Saturday but our apartment never closes. Let's grab one more round.

Then there is my LA crew. When I close my eyes I see us drenched in sweat at Townhouse or wandering around the beach at night feeling invincible. The sun is about to rise, I have to get home before it, or I'll be awake all day.

When did this stop being who we were? I didn't opt in to this life of escalating responsibilities. I thought we could stay young forever in these mental oases I had conjured up in my head. Am I the only one that wanted to run away?

I've read a lot about mental health and mental illness in recent years and given lots of thought to whether I was afflicted by it at times in my life. Do I have addiction issues? Do I suffer from depression? I think my conclusion is always something along the lines of ...'it's not a black or white issues, it's a spectrum and I'm probably somewhere on it.'

I suffer pangs of regret, hints of anxiety and waves of sadness like everybody else but not so much that I would self-identify in this way or make it a passionate crusade of mine. But I understand the existential dread, why everyone on the internet seems to be pessimistic about the world. Things are happening that you didn't sign up for. Maybe it's politics that bums you out, maybe it's climate change or something more personal. All these scenarios have something in common, they contain elements outside of one's control and that's what causes the nervous uncertainty.

One of the greatest joys of my past 6 months has been making a real effort to visit people from my past. I flew out to Sydney to spend a week with my cousins, I went to London and San Francisco to see my old Chicago roommates. This weekend I'm heading to a music festival with some Coachella alumni to try to recreate the magic (yes, even after I publicly stated on this blog that I was retiring from festivals)

I think it's important to spend time with people that make you happy. (Obviously) But I also think it can be healthy to take a stroll down memory lane once in a while. Sometimes I get too caught up in the fact that I'm 'living in the past' but isn't that what makes me who I am? A collection of experiences that shape my current self.

Think about every time you see a person that means something to you; friend or foe. There is an immediate feeling that washes over you be it positive or negative. These are the important things to latch onto as we grow up. Not a mental dick measuring contest "Why does he drive a nicer car than me?" It doesn't matter.

The girl I started dating recently asked me what my best quality was. It took me a moment because surely there are more negative than positive things about me, but then it popped into my mind clear as day.

"I surround myself with great people."

And sure it might be a backhanded compliment to...uh...myself.

 But it cannot be overstated how great it is to have wonderful people in your life. I mentioned earlier that a collection of experiences is what shapes who you are but that's probably only half, with the other half being reflections of the people you choose to surround yourself with.

It won't solve the problems of the world, but when I'm feeling a little down, I find I gain the most inspiration and happiness by picking up the phone and asking a buddy if they want to just grab a beer and hang out. After a couple cold ones, laughing about teenage angst and some of the more precarious situations we found ourselves in, I usually feel a bit more optimistic about the future.

But one thing is for damn sure, I always feel less alone in my uncertainty. No one has life figured out, we're all just doing our best to fake it.