Dear MillerCoors President Tom Long, I Enjoy Miller Lite Tall Boys But...

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February 8, 2012

Tom Long, President, CEO,
MillerCoors Corporation
405 Cordele Road
Albany, GA 31705

Dear Mr. Long,

I’ve been a long-time patron of Miller Lite, particularly of the three-pack Miller Lite 24 ounce cans often referred to as “tall boys,” or if drinking in the ghetto, “big boyz.”

Drinking out of these large cans make me feel more masculine, and yet less like an alcoholic. Having three large empty cans sitting on my coffee table takes up a lot less space than six smaller cans, and I subconsciously think I’ve only drank three beers instead of six—and although technically true, I don’t think this reasoning would hold water in a court of law, but it’s still a nice way of thinking.

Also, I think it brightens Jorge’s day when he goes through the dumpster in my condo complex and scores these larger cans for recycling. I think he gets more bang for his buck with these cans, and that’s a good thing because he can only hold a finite number of these aluminum beauties while riding his bicycle.

The reason I’m writing you is because the packaging of these cans has recently changed. They used to be sold with a series of three plastic rings holding them together—you know what I’m talking about—those plastic rings that get littered in the park and the next thing you know there’s a stupid duck choking to death with the thing wrapped around it’s neck.

Hear me now and believe me later, the plastic ring concept should not be messed with. It’s a proven design that holds the cans together and little effort is required to remove a can for consumption. With just one can removed, there’s suddenly a convenient handle to carry the rest of the beer around with and when they’re all gone, you can give the plastic rings to the kids and they’ll make something stupid out of them, like goggles. All these things, plus the benefit of controlling the duck population, come from just those simple plastic rings. Brilliant!

Oops. I think “Brilliant” is a slogan used by one of your competitors, so I’ll just say those plastic rings are “Awesome!”

Now however, your 24 ounce tall boys are being sold with a very tight plastic shrink-wrap encasing the whole shebangabang. This new packaging is horrible. First, you can’t get a good grip on the beer and if you do, you’ll have a hand-cramp by the time you get to the bus stop. Yes, you can cradle it or carry it under your arm, but really, that’s a method that should be left to celebrities and their chihuahuas.

And shrink-wrap? Seriously? From what I know about plastics, shrink-wrap shrinks with the application of heat, and I don’t think heat is good for beer. Just how hot are you torching these cans before shipping them out?

And finally, getting that shrink-wrap off the cans is a motherfucker. Unless one has talons, a sharp implement must be used—and I don’t like sharp things when I’ve been drinking—this all goes back to an old mumblety-peg accident I had in ’92—and the patrons at the bar are still talking about it.

I’m no country boy (although I’m sure a very large demographic of your tall boy drinkers are) but I can only equate the removing of this plastic wrap to that of skinning an animal—perhaps a squirrel or small racoon. Or maybe a duck. Wait, do ducks have skin or just feathers? I have no idea— I’ll check Wiki and let you know.

Would it be possible for you to go back to the old plastic ring packaging? If not, please install a zipper or velcro seam on the new packaging so it’s easier for a person to open, especially when they’re already blotto.

This letter reminds me of the time I wrote Kelloggs in the early ’80′s because they changed the packaging of their Pop-Tarts. You see, Pop-Tarts used to be sealed in paper but then Kelloggs started sealing them in foil, and that made it impossible for me to sneak one without my parents hearing. I was only allowed two Pop-Tarts a day back then, but I would often sneak and eat more—that is until the foil came along. I wrote Kelloggs—in red crayola—and you know what? They didn’t do a damn thing about it, so I stopped eating Pop-Tarts. My parents thought I suddenly decided to be anorexic and sent me to a shrink.

Mr. Long? Tom if I may? I want to continue buying and drinking Miller Lite because it’s truly my favorite pilsner when it comes to drinking in high-volume. It’s, well, how should I say this?  It’s everything I ever wanted in a beer. I know this may sound crazy, but it tastes great and yet it’s less filling—not unlike Pez, Certs, Jolly Rangers or chewing tobacco—or chewing gum for that matter.

So please change the packaging back to the plastic rings or to something better. I’m afraid I’m going to lose a finger (and I can’t afford to lose another) trying to cut-off the shrink-wrap.

Even worse, I may accidentally puncture one of the cans, and there’s nothing like that to shut my circus down.

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Thanks,

.T. O.

Dear Kurt Vonnegut

Dear Mr. Vonnegut,

Today is Veterans Day but as I learned while reading your book Palm Sunday in the 11th grade, this holiday was originally called Armistice Day. Today commemorates the signing of the armistice that ended the great war on the Western Front at 11am in the morning on the 11th day of the 11th month in the year 1918, but you already know all this stuff.

Today is a special Veterans Day because the date is 11/11/11. For some reason there were a lot of weddings here in Las Vegas—I guess couples like having an easy date to remember when it comes to their anniversaries. Personally, I wouldn't want my wedding to fall on a holiday that remembers and honors our military, but that's just me.

I read your book (I've read all your books!) Slaughterhouse-Five and I know how you were in the Army in Europe and how you were caught by the Germans and was a prisoner of war for six months. I also know how the Allies (your own team!) firebombed Dresden while you were imprisoned there and how afterwards you had to help dispose of the fifty-thousand dead civilians. Dresden, as you know, was a beautiful cultural city of little military importance. It was nicknamed the "Florence on the Elbe."

My father (I don't know if the two of you have ran into each other where you are now but I hope so) was also in World War II but was stationed in the Pacific. He too witnessed the horrors of more Allied bombings, these being the annihilation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Just like Dresden, these two cities were of little military importance and a lot of women and children lost their lives.

Mr. Vonnegut, thanks to your books I learned at an early age how insane war and society and mankind can be. I think it's during one's high school and teenage years—when we are still impressionable and easily influenced—that we develop our beliefs and ideals that carry us into adulthood. My father never talked about what he saw in Japan until I was an adult but because of your books, I knew when Dad did finally start talking, he spoke the truth.

I wish to thank you and all veterans for serving in our Armed Forces. Because of people like you I've never had to experience war first hand and I'm grateful for that. I'm also sorry you got caught by the Germans and had to be a prisoner of war and had to pick-up a lot of dead bodies and burn them.

On a lighter note, remember how after being an atheist all your life you finally decided that there was a God? The proof, you said, was because of the existence of music. Shortly after writing this in your final essay (you didn't know it was your final essay at the time) you fell down and hit your head and died. I was really sad for a long time but that heaven-sent music you mentioned helped make me feel a little better.

Lastly, I want to wish you a Happy Birthday. Not only is today the day we honor veterans, but it's also the day I remember the man who taught me so much at a time when I really needed to learn.

Happy Birthday Mr. Vonnegut. I still miss you terribly.

Tyge

Happy Feet

Dear Fruit of the Loom,

Usually when I am motivated to write a company about their product, it is due to dissatisfaction. This time however, the opposite is in order.

Last week while shopping at that corporate megalomaniac known as Wal-Mart, I came across your Work Gear socks. The bright orange packaging was hard to miss. Just a few days before I bought a pair of Sketcher work shoes and was having a very discomforting time getting them broken in. Cushioned insoles were of little help and I had already ruined two pairs of inferior socks (I will not divulge what brand socks I usually use but will tell you the company was probably founded by someone named Mr. Wilson).

Before I go further, let me tell you I have been a Bellman at in Las Vegas for the past ten years. The hotel is spread out over 80+ acres and has five different towers of rooms. It is not uncommon for us to walk over ten miles in an 8 hour shift on a busy day. That said, I bought a pair of your socks hoping it would alleviate some of the discomfort my pups were enduring.

Since the first day of wearing your socks, my co-workers have not been able to shut me up. Your socks are the best thing since the invention of the 9-inch paint roller! Not only did I notice an immediate sensation of podiatry bliss putting them on, it also felt as though a masseuse was at work down there. The next day I went back and bought enough pairs to cover my work week. For now, I only wear them at work as I do not want to get spoiled on my days off. You see, your socks make my Mondays something to look forward to.

Is Fruit of the Loom or a parent company on the stock market? I really think when the word gets out about these beauties, you'll have quite a spike in sales. I currently only have a half share in Harley Davidson (a novelty Christmas gift but it looks nice framed in my office) but am now seriously considering expanding my portfolio. Also, please under no circumstances discontinue this product. I would indeed drop some "fruit" in my "looms" if you did. If the day of Armageddon arrives and you must discontinue these socks, please let me know well ahead of time so I may obtain a home equity loan and use the money to buy up your remaining inventory.

I thank you and my feet thank you,

The Garbage Flower

PS. My co-workers say my feet don't stink anymore.