Wednesday, May 21, 2008

What's Your Poison?

Personally, I’m all over the board with this subject. I like beer, wine, vodka, tequila and a little moonshine if the occasion calls for a shin-dig. I cut my teeth with the Colorado Rockies; drinking Coors beer. This was long before the marketing gurus got a hold of Coors and created the "Silver bullet"; Coors' answer to light beer.

I'll take the extra calories and drink a regular beer or two, or three, or hell, a six pack will do sometimes.

It all began when my grandparents used to pour a little into a glass for me when I was maybe seven, or eight years old. Don’t worry mom, (as is if my mom would ever read this blog) it was dad’s side of the family that was illegally serving minors in the fine state of California. My mother’s mom and dad didn’t really drink beer, they liked Irish Whiskey and yep, it was okay that I sipped a little of that too whenever I’d visit them.

Looking back on those days as a somewhat emotionally mature woman, it’s no wonder my grandfather used to tell me there were leprechauns in his garden; he was probably drunk and thought there really were. I was a kid with a huge imagination and I would take the leprechaun bait every stinking time. I’d run out the kitchen door; leap over the stairs and slide into the grass; skinning my knees as I came to a stop and cautiously; intrepidly peeking under avocado, lime and lemon tree leaves and branches; looking for leprechauns.

Good God. I guess I can blame my alcoholism on my grandparents, huh?

Later, as a high school teenager, I quickly learned to drink a whole beer, straight from the can, thank you very much. After football games my high school peers gathered at a place affectionately called, “The Hump” (it’s a mystery why I’m penning porn, isn’t?). Anyway, we used to drink a beer called, Mickey’s Big Mouth, and I’m not sure why that beer was the chosen brand, other than it must have been considered cool for some unknown and long forgotten reason. Maybe it was cheap, or someone at our school’s parents (probably their grandparents) owned a liquor store. Who knows why, but that’s what we would drink and party way past my curfew of 10:00 p.m.

My mom didn’t know I was drinking at a place called "The Hump." Yes, I would get into big trouble and have to hide behind my dad’s affection to get out from under my mom’s punishment for drinking….worked every time too…except for that time when I was thrown in jail for making an illegal turn in Mexico. Yeah. My dad was a little pissed off over that minor incident, and just in case you were wondering, alcohol was involved.

Damn drunkard grandparents; look at the legacy they’ve given their granddaughter?

Of course there were always shots of tequila and Tecate beer if you headed south; over the boarder into Mexico. I was bound to get into some kind of trouble over there; jail time was probably one of the lesser evils for all the crazy-ass things I used to do. I remember being drunk as hell in search of donkey show in Tijuana and we could never find one; the shows would move round, because they were considered illegal; even in Mexico, which has very high tolerance for nonsense type of behavior. I did finally see one of those shows, wish I hadn’t. I’ll probably never be able to erase that from my memory; no matter how much booze I consume.

Anyway, I’m walking down the booze path today for some reason, probably because I was drinking last night and also because it’s a topic that sometimes, not always, but sometimes leads to a raunchy sex session and hey, nearly everyone I know drinks to some degree for some reason or another. Not to mention all the great American writer's were drunks; I'm just trying to stay with the program and walk in the foot steps of other writers. Oh yeah, and my grandparents (smile).



Let’s hear about your favorite poison and a great story to go along with it!

2 comments:

Casey Parish said...

I drink it all. If its got alcohol in it (enough to be considered an alcoholic drink) I am probably going to drink it. I contribute this largely to the fact that I come from a big Italian family, my parents are both alcoholics (and my dad has the jail time to prove it), and I grew up in a bar, and spent a lot of my younger years bar hopping. I don't remember all my excellent encounters that I have and do have with alcohol (nor should any self respecting alcoholic), but I do have a few good stories. From the times, of drunken parties, where most of the people were naked or almost there, to passing out with the biggest smile on my face. Ahh the memories, the fun. Here is to alcohol, and the gracious amounts I will consume this weekend.


-Casey

Neve Black said...

Nice. Thanks for your thoughts, Casey.

Anyone else have stories to share?

Neve