Let's start with
some headline numbers, some eye-popping numbers. In the 1.5 mile stretch from the northern
edge of town near the TA to the first 4-way stop in the Parowan Valley (see map
in Prologue), we recorded 555 aluminum cans in the ditch. My reader may not feel that this is any big
deal, but it seems like a lot to me.
Moreover, I walked a portion of this road myself about two years ago and
collected a hundred cans for recycling.
So, I know for certain that these new numbers underestimate the true
volume of trash. But, even at the rate
of 555, that equals one can every 14 feet.
We divided the
census data into three families: Beer,
Caffeine, and Fruit. While everyone
knows (and loves) beer, the latter pair of groupings can sometimes be difficult
to distinguish. For example, what is
"MUG Root Beer?" Is it
caffeine or fruit? I don't know. I don't know if it has caffeine. If it doesn't have caffeine, it should be
typed as "fruit," by which we mean non-caffeinated sweet drinks. Ultimately, though, it doesn't matter a lot
because these categories—especially fruit—turned out to play only a minor
role in our data collection. In fact, at
this site only seven of the 555 cans were finally classified as "fruit,"
or just a shade over 1% of the roadside trash.
Either fruit drinkers are not very trashy, or they are not very
common. As for caffeine, the numbers
were quite a bit larger, but still made up only a small percentage of the total
(around 8%). Just to provide a feel for
what kind of caffeine is being consumed (and ditched) in the Parowan Valley,
the top three vote-getters were Mountain Dew (16 cans), Pepsi (9 cans), and
Monster (5 cans). No other caffeinated
drink scored even five votes.
So, if the Caffeine
and Fruit families account for just nine percent of the can trash at our first
data collection site, what does that say about Beer? Wow.
We counted 503 beer cans in 1.5 miles, or one every 16 feet. In addition, there were 16 different species
of beer. Which is to say that we
identified 16 different labels. Of
these, we decided that six of them were of low importance—occurring fewer than
four times each. These were Milwaukee's
Best Ice, Coors, Hurricane Malt Liquor, Bud Ice, Pacific Western Traditional
Lager, and Icehouse. The ten remaining
beer species—shown in the pie chart—accounted for 88% of our data, so we
began to concentrate our trash analysis on these brands of beer and their drinkers.
After taking a quick
look at these data, we immediately wanted to know what was being sold, and for
how much, at the TA truck stop nearby.
It is axiomatic that correlation is not causation, so we're not saying
this proves anything, but the truck stop sells just five brands of suitcase
beer. (I don't want to spend a lot of
time on this, but we have become somewhat convinced that this particular type
of can traffic is associated with beer that you buy in a cardboard
suitcase.) These are Milwaukee's Best,
Budweiser, Bud Light, Coors Light, and Keystone Light. Well.
Are people driving 54 miles—the distance between Beaver and Cedar City,
the only other two sources of beer—to buy Milwaukee's Best, drink it, and
throw the can in the Parowan Valley? We
think not. But, before we begin
speculating on behavior, let's discuss cost.
For a 12 can suitcase at the TA Milwaukee's Best costs $7.99 ($.67/can);
Bud and Bud Light go for 13.89 ($1.16/can); Coors Light is $13.59 ($1.14/can);
and Keystone Light is $10.29 ($.89/can).
Let me save the
worst of the speculation for the portion of this paper that comes after all the
data have been presented. For now, let
me offer a few observations:
*Despite the name,
Milwaukee's Best is not famous for stimulating the palate. As a much younger man I remember drinking it
for certain other reasons. In fact, for
a while the brand was widely known as "The Beast," referring I
presume to how I looked the next morning.
*All of the beer
sold in suitcases at truck stops in Utah has an alcohol content of 3.2%. All of it.
So, you can't charge more for a higher alcohol content like you might
elsewhere. Despite this fact,
Anheuser-Busch, with its two brands—Bud and Bud Light—is selling quite a bit
of beer at almost double the per can cost of Miller-SAB's
"Best." Is Budweiser really
worth twice as much? Of all the money
spent on beer in this sample, Anheuser is collecting 30% of it. How are they doing that with beer that is
hard to distinguish from, um, other yellowish liquids? Actually, I have no idea. I wonder if it is the marketing? I mean, from what I hear, the Super Bowl is
trying to buy television time to run advertisements during the Bud Bowl.
*The pricing
strategy of the third big brewer—Molson Coors—doesn't make sense to me. At least at this location, it seems to be a
failed strategy. They are not really
competitive at the high end, where their pricing is similar to Anheuser. (Although, remember, this is
speculative. Coors Light may be selling
very well. But Silver Bullet drinkers
may not be can tossers, which would clearly impact our conclusions.) But, they are really struggling at the low
end, where the price point of $10.29 for a suitcase of Keystone Light is almost
incomprehensible. It is not cheap enough
for the cost conscious and not expensive enough for the status conscious.
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