The Lush Chronicles: Ruminations on Cinco de Mayo

By msarko on 5/5/10 8:03pm
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I believe in tequila. That's bigger than just liking the taste or appreciating the unique features of the drink. There's something downright spiritual about the finest application of the agave plant. As much as I respect the honest camaraderie of whiskey and trust the conversational chemistry of vodka, as much as I love the romantic devotion of good wine and the unpretentious company of beer, tequila is the only drink that has ever felt downright religious to me. That's why I don't feel particularly broken up about my current lack of tequila on Cinco de Mayo, it's unofficial saint's day. Today, I don't need tequila, I don't feel compelled to consume it. I've had enough days when the certainty of tequila was necessary that I've stopped looking at it as a party libation or a pain delivery device. Tequila is sacred stuff and just like everything else holy in this world, it has been besmirched and co-opted for nefarious ends.



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The Lush Chronicles: Process of Elimination

By msarko on 4/15/10 8:27pm
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Back in the particularly panicky period of American history when some of the most absurd people in the nation convinced Congress to ratify the 18th Amendment to the US Constitution, the majority of the alcohol consumed in our silly country was produced in less than optimal conditions. Bathtubs in some guy's basement, homemade stills in mob-run warehouses, barrels in the backwoods where nothing but moonshine ever flowed before. Needless to say, the products of these operations were pretty unpalatable, thus the cocktail was finally embraced wholeheartedly by the drinking American public. I suppose most of us never lost the taste for alcohol mixed with anything that would make it taste like anything other than poison.



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The Lush Chronicles: Why We Drink- Honesty

By msarko on 4/8/10 3:26am
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Last year at the GQ Awards, singer Lily Allen had an on-stage, on-camera row with Sir Elton John brought on by her quite literally shameless public drunkenness. Allen even went so far as to bring an entire bottle of champagne to the podium with her, refilling her glass at least once before the award went out. Does anyone remember what the award was or who won it? Hell no. Everyone just remembers that Lily Allen wore her intoxication on her shiny, sleeveless dress and had a few choice words for a knight in Her Majesty's fabulously musical service. There was something beautiful about that moment. It was two sides of the lush coin showing at once, even colliding. Who you see as the hero in that instant is as good a personality test as the long form Myers-Briggs.



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The Lush Chronicles: Why We Drink- Family

By msarko on 3/31/10 7:43pm
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Cliches ought not to be taken for granted. After all, they became cliche by being common enough for everyone to recognize them. Unless you're one of those hopelessly corny idealists, the first thing that pops into your mind when thinking of family gatherings is excessive self-medication with unholy amounts of holy libations. Why do we drink until intoxicated when we're around our extended families? I don't think it's as simple as dysfunctional behavior. There are layers to this ritual.



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The Lush Chronicles: Alcohol and College

By msarko on 3/22/10 9:59pm
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As some of you might have noticed, I didn't get a chance to live blog my St. Patrick's Day experience, but believe me when I say that it wasn't for a lack of trying. I had the damndest time getting drunk on St. Pat's, and though I'll have to consult a Catholic about this, I'm pretty sure that has got to be some kind of cardinal sin. My original plan involving a bottle of Irish whiskey took a back seat to the insistence of friends. No, it wasn't another intervention. I think that may be scheduled for a three-day block in mid June. Rather, my friends on various plots along the average sobriety spectrum insisted that I join them out in the world for what was promised to be a respectable night out of relaxing self-harm. It didn't go so well as that, though.



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The Lush Chronicles: On Whiskey and St. Patrick's Day

By msarko on 3/10/10 12:25am
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Next Wednesday, the international holiday of problem drinkers will once again descend upon the world. I don't really want to get into the uncomfortable racial stereotyping of an Irish celebration necessarily involving large amounts of liquor, but I will say this: Whiskey-making cultures have a right to drink in vast quantities. While I appreciate cold martinis, sensual liqueurs and woefully misunderstood glasses of tequila, my liver and I know that whiskey will forever be king of all potables. Complex but not pretentious, heavy but not filling, tough but refined, whiskey is a drinker's drink. And sure, I'll admit that if I had my choice of whiskeys, I wouldn't go for Irish varieties first. For the record, it's third in line behind scotch and bourbon. I still respect the Irish stuff and I plan on elevating it to the status of a ritual libation come St. Patrick's Day.



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The Only Thing (drink) Is Good For

By msarko on 3/4/10 12:15am
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haunts those who use Mr & Mrs Thaunts those who use Mr & Mrs TIndividual tastes being what they are, there's at least one person in the world who is happy to drink even the most ridiculously specialized item at the liquor store. Every super-sweet liqueur, weird flavored vodka and mysterious packaged mixer has a fan, but dedicated drinkers are still allowed to be snobs about the stuff they wouldn't let within a hundred feet of their own bars. So, if any of the following things are divine nectar according to your unique palate, I sincerely apologize.



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The Lush Chronicles: Why We Drink- Novelty

By msarko on 2/23/10 12:38am
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My grandmother used to tell me, "Michael, getting old is a bitch." She never really elaborated on exactly why, but I imagine it has something to do with aches, medication, diet restrictions and lost beauty. It didn't occur to me until recently that one of the worst parts of growing older is that there aren't as many new experiences out there. Sure, there are more unique experiences available for any one life to cover them all so it's not like we have to actually worry about running out of stuff to do, but then again not everything is appealing to everybody. I doubt I'll ever skydive or run a marathon, but there may come a day when a drink a glass of rice schnapps fermented in a bottle with the penis of a rhinoceros. I love bourbon now at my tender, inexperienced age, but come some curious night in my personal autumn I might just thirst after something different.



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The Lush Chronicles: Why We Drink- Distraction

By msarko on 1/29/10 4:32am
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In the middle ages in Europe when local economies were driven as much by barter as by hard currency, food found its way into the wages of everyday laborers as much, if not more often, than precious metals. Some fiefdoms ended up having to deal with drunk workers because many of them were paid in high-quantity spirits like beer. After all, alcohol kept for a long time and could be parceled out in discreet packages like bottles, bags and jugs. For your average feudal worker, an ale today had more value than a coin to be spent tomorrow. And why not get a little sloshed when there's wood to be cut and fields to be plowed? An alcohol buzz is distracting, pleasantly or otherwise. Though we today aren't permitted to drink on the job, there are plenty of us who would gladly take the opportunity to do so.



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The Lush Chronicles: Soused Snowflakes

By msarko on 1/22/10 12:59am
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We're all unique little snowflakes. Bear with me here. When in comes to the way our bodies handle mind-altering chemicals, there's a lot to consider before we can really judge just how we'll react or who we'll become when the chemicals get to altering. There are real, scientifically observed, physiological reasons why one guy is a sloppy drunk, one guy is an angry drunk and another guy is a fun drunk. Alcohol, unlike most drugs, gets into the body in a wide variety of states with little to no concern for the individual attributes of that body. Here's a little bit of a primer on why we are who we are when we drink and how to judge (roughly) what kind of drunk we want to be.



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