I’ve had a most unusual history with alcohol.
I grew up in a Christian household and attended a very conservative church most of my life. Not drinking was one of many amendments to the Ten Commandments that I was taught. Couple that with my tendency to be risk adverse and you have a kid that grew up without having drank his first alcoholic beverage until he was married and 24.
I’m not saying that’s been all bad. I’ve been told I have an inclination to be addicted to things, so I’m sure it’s been for the best. However, ever since allowing myself the freedom to try out the fermented beverages I’ve really screwed up. It wasn’t until recently that I was finally able to enjoy myself.
My First Drink(s)
My first dive into the taboo experience of drinking alcohol was pretty innocent. Tonia and I were on our honeymoon, on a cruise heading out to the Caribbean, and we both grabbed a shot of rum as we walked through a casino on the first day. It was literally a shot glass and I could have drank mouthwash for all I knew, it was that little.
Later that night we popped open the champaign I had ordered for our cabin. After one sip we emptied the bottle down the toilet. It just wasn’t our cup of tea.
A couple days later we decided to use our free drink coupons while we were out at the pool. I ordered a daiquiri and Tonia ordred a piña-colada. Again, two sips and we were both done. We went back and got the virgin equivalents and were in heaven.
That was it for me for a couple years. Then Brandon came along…
The Camping Story
This is where it all fell apart.
Fresh off my final collegiate Spring Break in which I landed the job I would be starting after college, I wanted to celebrate by intentionally getting drunk (which was easier than you might expect considering I attended a private christian university in a dry county). So my pal Brandon set things in motion and took care of all the details. We were going camping and he was bringing his friend Jack, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper.
I’m pretty sure Brandon wasn’t a chemistry or math major. His ratio’s were a little off. Probably a lot. It also could have also been the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day, smoked two large cigars, and had about three large cups of the mixture. Any way you measure it, I didn’t appreciate the repercussions of that experience. At. All.
Post Camping Drinking
I’ve never been drunk again in my life.
To be honest, the smell of alcohol sort of turns my stomach a bit. I have still dabbled in the occasional pale ale however, which leads me to the point of this entire post. Brandon and I were chatting the other day about his love of kicking back on his porch with a cold brew after mowing his lawn. It sounded sweet, even picturesque, but everyone says beer is an acquired taste and I definitely haven’t acquired one yet. And I’m not necessarily looking to acquire a taste for all beer, but I am interested in finding something that I might appreciate on my porch after mowing the lawn.
Recommendations?
I think the only beer I’ve ever had more than one of in a single sitting is Rolling Rock. Commercial advertising has done its job however, and I’ve been curious about many others. So here’s your chance. What’s your beer recommendation? I’m going to start the long and tedious process of tasting different beers, and will post my review of each here on this blog.
Filed under: Alcohol
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