Jay R. Brooks on Beer
Friday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1961. In this ad, one of a series featuring a nearly black and white ad, with only the beer in color, and the same man engaged in various activities. This time, he’s the captain of his own sailboat. He’s sitting at the helm, captain’s hat tossed aside, beer in hand. He’s going place.
Thursday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1957. In this ad, one of a series featuring a nearly black and white ad, with only the beer in color, and the same man engaged in various activities. This time, he’s studying his next move in a chess match, beer in hand (presumably to help him think) and finger below his lip (also to help him think). I do love that tuxedo, though, I think I”m going to put mine on the next time I play chess. ANd drink a beer, of course.
Wednesday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1959. In this ad, one of a series featuring a nearly black and white ad, with only the beer in color, and the same man engaged in various activities. This time, he’s sitting on his lounge chair in his den, with a beer in one hand and petting his faithful dog with the other. There are four rifles sitting in an open, unlocked cabinet (what could go wrong?) but it’s hard to say if he’s just returned from the outdoors, or he hasn’t left. He’s wearing his trousers tucked into military-style boots, but then he’s also wearing a sweater vest. So it’s anybody’s guess.
Tuesday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1960. In this ad, one of a series featuring a nearly black and white ad, with only the beer in color, and the same man engaged in various activities. This time, he’s watching the sport of Curling. It originated in Scotland in the 16th century and spread to wherever Scottish people settled, like New Zealand or Canada. It looks the curling team he’s watching is wearing formal military uniforms, with loads of medals on their jackets. And not a few, but there are so many they must be weighing them down with the extra weight.
Between 1951 and 1953, P. Ballantine and Sons Brewing Company, or simply Ballentine Beer, created a series of ads with at least thirteen different writers. They asked each one “How would you put a glass of Ballantine Ale into words?” Each author wrote a page that included reference to their beer, and in most cases not subtly. One of them was J.B. Priestley, who’s best known novel was probably The Good Companions, though I think he’s more well-known in Great Britain than in the U.S. His ad ran in 1952.
Today is the birthday of John Boynton Priestley, better known as J.B. Priestley (September 13, 1894–August 14, 1984), who “was an English novelist, playwright, scriptwriter, social commentator, man of letters and broadcaster. Many of his plays are structured around a time slip, and he went on to develop a new theory of time, with different dimensions that link past, present and future.”
His piece for Ballantine was done in the form of essentially listing all of the things he likes about the beer, point by point:
This is what I like, first of all, about Ballantine Ale: It’s a wonderful thirst-quencher. It passes smoothly over the palate, creating at once a fine feeling of refreshment.
At the same time, because it’s got body and flavor, it’s something a man can offer another man when the two of you begin to expand in talk, and perhaps boast a little.
Ballantine Ale is what I like to call “a clean drink.” You take another glass for the sheer pleasure of drinking it, and not because the first glass has failed to fulfill its promises and left you still feeling thirsty.
Finally, I like my Ballantine cold, but not too cold, please. Deep chilling, to my taste, tends to destroy the flavor. And the flavor’s worth keeping.
Monday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1958. In this ad, one of a series featuring a nearly black and white ad, with only the beer in color, and the same man engaged in various activities. This time, he’s leaning on a saddle, in a stable. Although he looks more like someone who was just betting on the horses rather than the jockey riding them, but who knows. He’s certainly looking intently at something.
Sunday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1958. In this ad, one of a series featuring a nearly black and white ad, with only the beer in color, and the same man engaged in various activities. This time, he’s leaning on his golf bag in the clubhouse, apparently fresh off a round of eighteen, with a beer in one hand. He’s looking rather pensive, too. Maybe he didn’t shoot a very good round.
Saturday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1959. In this ad, one of a series featuring a nearly black and white ad, with only the beer in color, and the same man engaged in various activities. This time, he’s leaning against the stone fireplace in a ski lodge, apparently fresh off the slopes, and in need of both warmth and a cold beer.
Friday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1969. In this ad, a half-empty bottle sits next to a full glass of beer. I like the minimalism of the ad, lots of negative space, although the text doesn’t make a lot of sense. I know Miller knows they don’t brew beer in a bottle, or a bottle at a time, but apparently their ad agency isn’t so sure.
Thursday’s ad is for Miller High Life, from 1948. In this ad, on a bright red background, a drawing of a Miller High Life tavern or inn sits in a golden frame, with a glass and bottle of beer sitting in front of it. And lo and behold, it’s another one of those magic bottles, where even though the bottles is only half-empty, the glass is completely full. So it’s either a tiny glass or a giant bottle. Or possibly both?
