This series of posts is dedicated to the many, many six packs, pony kegs and pints that have sauntered into my life at one point or another.

I am a mediocre beer hunter. Much as I value expertly brewed concoctions, I am highly limited in my ability to keep all the revered and coveted craft beer offerings in my head so I can make expert selections at remote liquor stores. Confronted by walls of strangers, I grab with almost random recklessness, stocking up with no assurance that I’m doing so wisely. At any given point, I’m likely to pass up a true wonder while acquiring stock for the garage fridge that will be enjoyed but forgotten. But sometimes I get lucky.

I secured a few cans of Zero Gravity Craft Brewery’s Keller Dry-Hopped Lager on a road trip to New York earlier this year. I like dry-hopped beers, I like lagers, and a member of my household has caused me to be quite fond of the name Keller. And I was further enticed by the relatively frill-free packaging. While the theory doesn’t always hold, I’ve often found that the breweries that aren’t preoccupied with busy labels or given to elaborate, pun-peppered names are instead focused on making fine beer. In this instance, the guideline worked marvelous.

Tonight, I drank my last can, imbibing over the grill in what could very well be the last throes of warmer weather. It was like a summer romance coming to an end, inspiring instant nostalgia. My, it was nice.