Here's Lookin' At You
My dad's Italian. My mom's Irish. So, yeah, the prospect of imbibing in an adult beverage at some point in my life was pretty much a "written in the stars", "etched in stone", predestined, done deal. I mean, when you grow up hearing the quote, "Romans consider wine the nectar of the Gods" or proclamations like, “God invented whiskey so the Irish wouldn’t rule the world”, you realize you don't have a chance; the whole thing is out of your hands. In the end, the house always wins. Kinda like when a young man's parents gift him with books on valet and manservant training while constantly showing him snippets of Alfred Pennyworth from the movie, "Batman", or Wadsworth's role in the flick, "Clue". Even if this kid's a bit dense, somewhere throughout the years of classroom attendance-taking, it has to dawn on him that no one else shares the name, Jeeves, and that maybe his yearning for a career in medicine isn't going to reach fruition... Just sayin'.
So get this, a 2024 survey claims Americans spent an average of $228 billion on alcohol, which figures out to approximately $1,250 a pop annually. Damn, that's a lot of tailgate parties, soirees, galas and keggers. A boatload of drinking games, bar crawls, last calls and ones for the road. Plenty of gin with the Rickeys, the Gimlets, the Martinis and the Fizzes. More than enough for the families of Wallbangers, Beams and Daniels and their sons, Harvey, Jim and Jack. Likewise, the Russians, be they black or white or the wines, in all their red, white and blush glory. And let us not forget those dainty entrees, the ones that sound so innocuous and yet still manage to get the job done: mint juleps, pina coladas, mimosas, daiquiris and margaritas. Or the macho enlistees: the whiskies, single and double malt, scotch and bourbons. And, of course, Dos Equis, with their debonair huckster, "The Most Interesting Man in the World". Bottom line: alcohol consumption is alive and well in the good ol' U.S. of A.
So, the whole "drink this and you'll catch a buzz" scenario, how did it come about, exactly? Just like so many other great scientific finds... by accident. A Mother Nature move, to be sure. Fermentation occurs organically when yeasts in the air act on foods rich with sugar, i.e., grains, honey and grapes. Add in a bunch of inquisitive, thirsty local yokels some 10,000-plus years ago (that's right, the discovery of Stone Age jugs with intentionally fermented beverages dates back to the Neolithic period) and you've got yourself a party. And once the festivities ended and they recovered from the first recorded group hangover, vowing to never drink this devilish potion again, they wisely came to their senses and immediately began the process of figuring out how to reproduce this beverage as quickly as possible. No surprise then that by the year 4000 B.C., Mesopotamia, the cradle of civilization, was actually brewing beer for mass consumption.
Okay, so getting back to the initial premise: my DNA pretty much determined that I was gonna hook up with firewater at some point. And no, I'm not tryin' to stitch together some kind of "no fault" defense strategy here. Hell, I enjoy social drinking, providing you (read this part quickly, in a hushed announcer's voice) "... always drink responsibly. If you have consumed alcohol, please do not operate a motor vehicle or heavy machinery. And if you are under the legal drinking age, pregnant, or have health conditions that may be affected by alcohol, you should not consume alcoholic beverages."...Sorry, just coverin' my bases, 'cause, ya know, we're living in a litigious society here.
Indeed, when it comes to quaffing hooch, I"d be remiss if we didn't talk drinkingj establishments. For me, the best ones are all about atmosphere, starting with a friendly wait staff and bartenders adept at providing your cocktail of choice amidst a cozy setting, say an ornate bar with rich wood paneling, sturdy yet comfortable barstools, the ideal ambient lighting and a laid-back clientele comfortable with sharing conversation and a few laughs. The perfect port in the storm. A bastion against the external rat race that is everyday life. The place to go where everyone knows your name. Alright, maybe not everyone, but the occasional nod or "Hey, bud" suits me fine.
Alrighty then, so let's recap: My heritage pretty much put me in a chokehold and forced me to consume spirits, but I'm in fast company with seemingly most of America, thank you. There are as many different alcoholic libations as there are planets in the Milky Way, give or take. This drinking thing isn't some passing fad; it's actually been going strong for more than a hundred centuries. The Mesopotamians may or may not have invented the beer tent, and a good bar is, like, the ultimate place to take the edge off (or hell, maybe even the whole corner). And, oh yeah... Here's mud in your eye!!