Coors Banquet beer was black market back in the day, only distributed within some 13 western U.S. states. Per firstwefeast.com, in the 1970’s:
Coors claimed that not only could they not make enough beer, but that their unpasteurized brew demanded being distributed exclusively via refrigerated trucks, lest it “spoil.” Thus, a mystique was built, and soon east coast folks were smuggling cases upon cases of the beer back home after a visit to the Rockies. In 1977, Coors even took out an ad in the Washington Post saying “Please don’t buy our beer,” insisting any in the area was clearly black market, mishandled, and prone to becoming “watery” (you can laugh now). This insane thirst for Coors hit its apex with the release of Smokey and the Bandit, the Burt Reynolds action-comedy about a legendary trucker willing to risk life, limb, and the law to illegally smuggle crates of Coors back to Georgia.
This ’79 ad for said beer plays like an ad for America itself. Coors Banquet is “born where eagles speak, and the sunrise slides from peak to peak.” Clearly, it’s “no downstream beer.”
It doesn’t seem like that long ago, but it’s been 40 years…
What dystopian circumstances have arisen that require these students to build a fire inside a library, presumably from the unread pages of old Encyclopedia Brittanicas? What chaos has ensued that they must sit in weakly-constructed patio chairs and grow their sloven bangs out just to retain head heat? Who can say? All we know is Pepsi was still not okay.
Honey, I wish I knew what was going on here. I can’t fathom a reason to stack perfectly good tortillas on a fellow’s head. But it was 1979, and honestly, this yearbook is plumb full of things I can’t explain. Like this frisbee-contorting carb-deprived student.
Or this wand to his lips. I like the faces on the couple in back.
Or why grown men would be piggy-backing.
Or doing that to their hair and bodies. Just another confirmation that clowns are evil.
This seems like a dozen too many hula hoops.
This last one shows a group of Zeta Beta Tau dudes building sets for a party at Pat O’Brien’s. But that doesn’t explain the duck.
Goodness, that’s no jolly, happy soul! Where’s the corncob pipe and button nose and two eyes that don’t look demonic?