Pabst replaces beer
University of Nebraska-Lincoln student Jessica Robertson discovered this altruistic corporate policy last week. Robertson was drinking on her back patio when two men asked for a beer. When she declined, one man flashed a knife and bolted with the case*. A PBR rep saw the story and came to Robertson’s apartment with cases in hand, even staying to down a few with Robertson and her roommates.
Let it be known that the Los Angeles-based brewer prides itself on being more than just Williamsburg, Brooklyn, residents’ and blue collar workers’ favorite brew. That blue ribbon is f*cking deserved because PBR works for the people.
After WOWT News 6 in Nebraska reported the story of a college student who had her beer wrongfully taken from her, a local distributor attempted to make it up to her.
Last week at 11 p.m. in Lincoln, men approached a patio and asked those on it for a beer.
"We asked them to leave and one guy showed what looked like a knife," said the victim. Instead, a man grabbed a PBR and ran off with it. Police escorted him back later to be identified and arrested, and the worst part of all — he hadn't even finished the beer. Oh, and that knife turned out to be a fork.
Luckily, Rick from Pabst was paying attention to the news, and wanted to help.
"We're really sorry what happened to you last week with someone taking your beer from you," he said, and even carried the new cases of beer to the victim's home and joined her and her friends for a drink.
"My parents will be so proud," she said of having the beer man himself over for a little tipple.
Like a real-life Duffman, Rick Birdsell arrived in Lincoln to hand Robertson replacement cases for her and her friends — and even stuck around to have a beer with them. "My parents will be so proud," Robertson told WOWT.
Hey, as far as legacies go, getting Pabst to hook you up with free beer is not too shabby. Just ask
By the look of it all, you’d think I was a big-time biker, a “real bad mamma jamma,” as the Geico insurance company’s smooth-talking lizard puts it in a commercial pitching motorcycle insurance.
Well, not exactly. In fact, I’ve ridden on a motorcycle only two or three times in my life — and, then on the back, clinging fiercely to one unfortunate person or another.
Yup, there's a Harley Barbie doll. (Mellicious, Flickr Creative Commons)
The Harley accents in my office came courtesy of my son, Rob, from the time he worked at a Harley-Davidson outlet store on the Delaware shore. It seems that Harley-Davidson has become such an iconic brand, almost synonymous with motorcycling and an entire vroom-vroom culture, that it sells millions of dollars of goods — from dice to men’s hats (oh, I have one of those with the Harley eagle, too) — that have nothing directly to do with motorcycles at all.
I learned the power and reach of this brand several years ago on a visit to the Midwest farm state of Wisconsin. There, you’ll find thousands and thousands of hogs. Not just four-legged swine, but also steel and chrome Harley motorcycles that riders affectionately call “Hogs” – the only motorcycles still mass-produced in the United States. Wisconsin’s largest city – Milwaukee – is home to the Harley-Davidson Motor Company and an entire Harley culture.
Freedom. Adventure. Pavement. Leather. Chrome. These are some of the words that spring to the screen when you open the Harley-Davidson Motor Company’s Web page. The company boldly asserts – and most owners agree – that a Harley is more than a machine that goes fast. It’s a way of life.