The holidays are upon us, and naturally, the holiday parties. Which got me thinking about something I’m going to term “alcolution.” It’s how your drinking tastes evolve. And yes, this is my first blog, and I’ve already made up a word. And yes, I hate myself right now.
Anyway, when you see friends you haven’t seen in a long time, they expect you to still be the same kind of drinker you were when you met them. For example, when I met my college friends I used to drink nothing but beer. No shock there. We all did. I was a Bud man. Whatever. A few years and pounds later, I switched to Bud Light. Whoopee for me. One summer, I took a trip to San Francisco and discovered Sierra Nevada, Anchor Steam. I moved to Boston and started drinking Harpoon and Magic Hat. Added Guinness and Stella to the rotation. Do you care? Probably not.
Point is, when I walk into that party, my friends look at me cross-eyed if I drink anything but Bud. And don’t get me wrong, I still like Bud. I’m no beer snob. Hot day, cold Bud, baseball game or golf course, I am in. But does that mean I have to pretend not to like anything else? Like a Harpoon IPA? A single malt scotch? God forbid, a glass of red wine?
Look, I know there are some people who are set in their ways. And I’m cool with that. I’ve worn the same sandals since 1997. When they wore out, it took some digging, but I found the exact same pair online. But to some extent, we all evolve. Are evolving.
I don’t have a Members Only jacket, leg warmers and a Flock of Seagulls haircut anymore. Okay, I never had those things, but you get the point. Okay, so I did have the jacket. But everyone did. It was cool. Whatever. But I’m putting a stake in the ground when it comes to my alcolution. I’m not the same guy I was in college. I like all kinds of beers. I like red wine. I like scotch.
If you have a problem with it, take it up with 1992.
Cheers,
Tom
Alcolution, classic.