Ah, poker night in the good ol’ days of 1975. The one night when surly aged dudes gather to passively brag about their six month old’s walking skills to to soft listening sounds of elevator music, all the while ignoring the generosity of their host.
But when – as demonstrated – these men are presented with fresh foil-capped bottles of Michelob, they aren’t just excited, they’re zealous about it.
Based on the ensuing excitement, I believe it is safe to assume that this is a universe where Michelob isn’t just beer; it is currency. Michelob is so preciously coveted that men stuff their mattresses with it, hide it in the walls of their homes, and bury it in their yard. No fiscally minded individual would simply dole it out to random schmucks in town who show up to play cards with their pocket change.
But our host here, desperate for friendship, knows he must make an impact. He needs to express the highest echelon of generosity. For this, he will need the Martini & Rossi of ales, the fine scotch of brews. It needs to be a momentous occasion, and when you bust out the Michelob, your friends will no longer ignore you – you’ll become the esteemed Beer God.
For those interested in learning about this era of AB’s advertising, here’s a reference.