Skunkily ever after?

Mass-produced American beer, you are dead to me - and I couldn't be happier.

But last night I discovered how much deeper it ran about two sips into a Czechvar (aak The Real Budweiser) at Bob's. It tasted pretty foul, whether from light damage allowed by the bottle's green glass or an oxidized cap.

This lager was a far scream from the tasty, hoppy version we finished in the Hotel Alfa lobby in Munich. Maybe I erred in picking the green-glass 12-ouncer over the 22-oz. brown bottle which Bob's does not stock.

I tried a microbrew, Presque Isle Pilsner from the Erie Brewing Company - something that almost qualified as local. Its buttery finish and wannabe bitter hops bouquet had me racing to finish to see if my beer reflexes had been forever ruined by Bavaria and Austria's fresh, preservative-free lagers and hefeweizens.

I had one more in me, and I wasn't going to give Blue Moon the chance to sour me on wheat beer for all time. Luckily, the Stella Artois (as Beer Advocate calls it, a Belgian beer by only the thinnest margins) on tap, served in the proper glassware put me back on track (drinking from the bottle - another habit Bavaria tore down).

So apparently, I'm down to draught beer and anything brewed locally. Glad that leaves the Elevator, Barley's and CBC as options.