My First Beer Poem by George Hunter

It was nineteen hundred and thirty five
And hardly a man is still alive
Who remembers that fateful day and year
When Gee Eff Hunter had his first beer
He was lying there on the changing table
And the little bugger was hardly able.
His Dad turned around to get a diaper pin
That’s all that it took for the kid to win.
He rolled over and grabbed the bottle with his feet
A trick that I thought was very neat.
It sounded like he burbled glug-ee glug,
But he actually was saying chug-a-lug.
Then he slipped the bottle under his cover
Thought, That surely didn’t taste like Mother
But that’s a formula that can’t be beat
When they’re trying to wean you off the teat.
His Dad turned back to get his beer
Said, I know I had that brew right here.
I must have drank it all right up
Before I came to change this little pup.
Oh well, I can always get another
When I give this rascal back to his Mother.
So Gee Eff, guess you thought you’d never hear
‘Bout that fateful day you had your first beer.
But now this story of your temerity
Is recorded here for all posterity!

I’d like to give a testimony
To celebrate this ceremony:

One beer surely has passed the test
Rolling Rock Beer, it is the best.
I’ve been drinking it now for eighty years
It’s stood by me through joy and tears.
I tried it first when I was small
I liked it then, and that ain’t all.
I’ll boost it with all my ability
My motto: From the cradle to senility.
Take it from G. F., the old jock
The best there is is ROLLING ROCK!