Beer Buyer's Remorse

I bought some really substandard beer last night, Copper Hook. Red Hook is decent enough beer, so I figured, what the hey, I'll try their summer ale. Bad. It's what I call dead-tasting, like it got stuck in the pasteurization machine while the dude running that part of the conveyor belt went to push out the remains of his convenience store spicy burrito with extra chili and nacho cheese from the hotdog bar. Ok, maybe it's not quite that bad, and it's still better than, say, a Corona, but it has that same corny stank about it. I half considered dropping some liqueur in it or something to spruce it up.

I don't get it, honestly. A summer beer is a brewery's chance to dance around, show off, get your attention so that you're more curious about and receptive to their main lines of beer. Screw it up and you may as well wave goodbye to all but your most tongue-dead customers for at least 6 months (until your more interesting winter brew comes out, catching the attention of potential buyers). Too bad, Red Hook. There's too much good beer out there for me to ever gamble another $6 on a pack of your swill.