Greetings, Dear Readers.
I must apologize for the large gap in recent and timely satirical essays; I’ve been busy celebrating the holidays by drinking the economy toward a swift, although "jobless" Recovery. Sadly to report, in the process of trying to boost the profits of the spirits industry, my personal "recovery" has been set back a few months.
Surely this is nothing new to you, my fellow semi-alcoholic Americans. And like you, I started around Thanksgiving Day — continued to drink through the "War on Christmas" and the Bowl-Game-o-Thon — and am only beginning to taper off — whereupon I hope to trade Good Cheer for a large dose of the Delirium Tremors — well... that, and renew my membership in either a Health Club or a Rehab Clinic — depending on the level of damage done and my honesty toward myself and my family.
Hell, after dealing with lots of family, friends, and those 3 A.M. end-of-the-year bouts of self-examination, I'm just thankful to be alive! At this time of year, one either drinks and goes home — or drinks and hangs oneself with the Christmas lights. As you can tell, once again, I've opted for the more painful of the two options. And if you're reading this, you must have made the same, unpalatable decision. You have my sympathies.
The Liver Is Evil and Must Be Punished
Flitting from party to party, I've noticed a new phenomena, one of those cultural fads that returns with cyclic regularity: everyone seems to be drinking "Martinis" again. And somehow, a rip-roarin' brain-damagin' drink is more aesthetically pleasing when it is sipped from a $150 crystal work of art labeled "Waterford".
People are finding that swiggin' from a can of Keystone is not near as impressive, sexy, or attractive as sipping on a hand-blown glass sculpture purchased at the MOMA gift shop. No, as usual with Ugly Americans, it's NOT the journey or the destination that's important; it's the means of transportation! Anyone can get drunk, but not everybody can afford to do it from an inverted chandelier designed by a dead Bauhaus architect.
Article comments
1 - Aaman
Interesting selection of music - Messiaen
My personal preference is Scotch - Single malt or a few blends. None of this new-fangled stuff for me, thank you
2 - Bennett
Yeeeehaaaaa! Spank that Liver!
But seriously, martini bars are all the rage in Stowe VT these days, and I brand it as passing fad. Kinda like the "smart bars" in Seattle that served stuff made of grass and bark.
My buddies and I went through a martini phase, and we aptly called what we mixed up "rocket fuel". Shaken, not stirred...
Vodka, martini&rossi vermouth, and them little onions. Okay okay, it's actually a "Gibson", but who knows that these days? It was a martini with onions dammit!
A shame it was all guys, I often wished there were women present to get as sloppily blasted and passin' out as we got. They'd have been safe mind you, after five doubles there's no lead in the pencil worth tapping.
A fun post Shark, thanks!
3 - Mark Saleski
favorite martini is a super dry, bombay safire and just enough vermouth to wet the ice cubes in the shaker.
though the 'vesper' is pretty fine. hey, it was good enough for james bond.
scotch: on the peaty side: laphroig. non-peaty: the balvenie portwood.
yummy.
4 - Shark
Wow. It's great to know there are at least 3 real men left in America!
And I'm almost certain that none of you would object to a Sinatra tune and a good *Partagas on the side...
* um, okay, how 'bout if we assume yer significant other is gone for the afternoon?
I thought so.
5 - Andy Marsh
When my pop showed me howto make a martini back in the day...he told me...now pick up the vermouth bottle...wave it over the glass...now...put it back down...what the....
6 - Andy Marsh
Shark - I have a nice bottle of Cabo Wabo chilling in the freezer if you'd care for a shot...
I've given up on American beer...2 1.2 months in Germany has ruined my taste buds for American suds...I now dilute my brain primarily with bourbon....er...I mean...sour mash!
7 - Eric Berlin
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8 - Elvira Black
Shark, you devil you, it's good to know you're helping to keep the liquor industry in business in your own small (?) way. I try to do my bit too, but as I get older the struggle is an uphill one.
The whole new "flavored martini generation" is laughable. Sure, I like the umbrella drinks they still serve at those old-time Chinese restaurants with names like "Suffering Bastard" as much as the next guy now and then--but there comes a time in every woman's life where, if she knows what's good for her, she's gonna need herself a man-sized drink.
Back in my heavier drinking days, my specialty was a one-two punch: Stoli on the rocks with a splash of soda, no fruit please--and a pint of Bass. I was such a notorious regular that the bartenders would have knife fights over who would get to serve me first, and two separate bartenders would set down my usual--one pouring the Bass; the other fixing my colorless, yet curiously strong concoction.
If you went into my b/f's Bronx 'hood and asked for a Cosmo, they'd throw you out on your ass. A martini? Are you insane? Just order something on the rocks and you'll get a drink that would do any self-respecting alcoholic proud.
I also am convinced that once you get past a certain level, all vodkas are the same. Gordon's or Schmirnoff constitutes the cutoff point--go below that, and you'll regret it for the rest of your days, or at least the next morning--go above it (Stoli's, Grey Goose, Ketel 1) and you're just wasting your money and time.
My final word of advice to any real man looking for a decent woman who can match you drink for drink: never date anyone who imbibes anything involving Khalua unless it's a Black Russian. That's borderline acceptable.
Thank you.