Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Go for the Gold

I found out last night that the dog can reach the cat food. No wonder he's having stomach 'problems', to be delicate at this hour. And, of course, the cats want out, wildly. But I'm not done sleeping so they are trapped inside.

Drink because you are sad. Or drink because you are happy. Drink because it's raining and drink because the sun is out...And I know some of you are saying, "That's right, Alise. What's wrong with that?" Aaahh. If I could only drink like that! But that was a lifetime ago and may it remain in the past, already.

I'm not jealous. I remember the utter joy of drinking at 5 AM. That's the best time to drink. Particularly if you have a job, so you can make that all important first impression on your co-workers...well, maybe a little jealous. What's breakfast if you can't enjoy it twice? Always assuming you can get it down in the first place.

Now, you might think I am against drinking, since I can't, but you would be wrong. There's nothing I like better than to watch a group of adults get shit faced. Of course, going to an event that has some promise can fizzle, if it's one of those parties where everyone drinks one glass of wine after, or with, food. How utterly useless to drink one glass of wine.

No, no. You need at least three people getting snockered, to have fun at a party. One person getting drunk signals desperation, or some sort of insipid alcoholism. Two getting blitzed signals marriage or financial or child-rearing problems.

But three, now. If at least three people are getting hammered at a party, the evening holds promise. You can also get that fun dynamic going if you are serving Bloodies in the morning or early afternoon. Bloodies can be drunk at any time, and is a party lifesaver, if every one seems particularly dull before breakfast. After all, it can be counted as a food group if you factor in the tomato juice and the optional piece of celery. And the Tabasco and the pepper guarantees its acceptance as a food...

A Mimosa, fruit juice and champagne, is another good breakfast drink, but it's a bit half-hearted. It just doesn't carry the same punch as a good jigger of vodka. Champagne, as a drink, should be left to the grandparents of the newborn just so they don't go into cardiac arrest at the celebration. Or for their 50 wedding anniversary, with a tiny sliver of well-bleached cake.

Irish Whiskey, or coffee and whiskey, sounds like a breakfast drink, but it isn't. It's for rainy days stuck inside. And really, it's the only one of the above drinks that should be consumed with some form of tobacco. No one who uses tobacco as a "chew" need apply. Smoking is the combination that "makes" the experience of an Irish Whiskey.  Although chain smoking with a Bloody is protocol for some women who went to a private, woman's's a sport, really.

No, it's the solitary, lonely glass of wine that makes me insane. What in hell is your system going to do with one glass of wine? Why bother? Do it right, or don't go there in the first place, sugar lips.

And if you're pouring it down on top of food, just go and shoot yourself. No, alcohol is meant to be enjoyed in vast quantities, or not at all.  I would love to live in Russia; or, enjoy a shot of vodka every time you turn around. That's how to consume. It takes dedication, people. I know, I've been there.

And, curiously enough, it is the British who have perfected drinking like a sport: by horseback riding all day. "Following the hunt" is a good excuse to get toasted even before breakfast. And it's nothing to imbibe a cup of cheer if one has the handy flasks that make it all possible. Even "hill toppers", or spectators, drink heavily. That is dedication.

The closest Americans can get is the flask at an American football game on a starry evening. And we are so puritanical, we don't really enjoy it. Our beer is too weak to make much of an impression. Plus, with the prices you are paying, it's not really a choice. You would have to drink a case or more at top dollar, and then there is all that 'going to the bathroom'  business, as one is cold. And you're having it on top of the stadium hotdogs...

For some reason, my ancestors in Scotland  did not perfect drinking and sport. The Brits perfected drinking and moving at the same time. Brits think: "It's a sport, and it's supposed to be fun, right?" The Scots tend to drink after the sport (see Wikipedia's definition of golf), and never serve it with food. In fact, touring Scotland today generally entails going to one distillery after another. If you stay at the ubiquitous B & B's, you only have breakfast to slow you down. If you add food to the mix, not that anyone is eating, then it's an Irish event. In fact it's a stereotype, a body, food, and drink altogether, is a wake.

Well. Glad I could straighten out that national heritage thing for you there, now that the Olympics are in London. Here's to all the spectators who will come away with so much more than memories: a tattoo, extras on the credit card bill, and a few pints of Scottish whiskey to bring home...

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