Beer Lao: Yes, It IS the New St. Pauli, Heineken, Coronoa, Whatever

Another article about Beer Lao mania (first mentioned here some months back). It is, indeed, the NEW. HIP. EXOTIC. BEER, one favored by those quick to jump on the bandwagon of hipness, in this case rice adjuncts and all. So for those keeping track:

  • 1970s: Coors
  • 1980s: St. Pauli/Heineken
  • 1990s: Corona
  • Early Oughts: Beer Lao.

The fact that you hear it here first, well, shucks. Doesn't make me hip. Just, ya know, aware and astute.

I Am . . . .

. . . . headed out of town. To visit The Baby. Who is now eight months old. And gorgeous: His mama's blue eyes. His daddy's rotund pink cheeks and bow mouth. His own spectacular personality.

I intend to spend the next five days goo-ing, ga-ga-ing, and generally babbling, fool-like, over The Baby. For the first time ever, however, I'll be traveling with a "mobile device."(*1)

So in between gazing at The Baby, baby-sitting (because mama and daddy would dearly love to eat one, just one, meal together), and generally hanging with The Family, it's possible I'll tweet, blog, or facebook (am still waiting for someone to tell me if that's a verb) while I'm gone.

Meantime, there's plenty here to occupy the idle among you. Until my return, dear readers, adieu.

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*1: Courtesy of The Husband, who purchased a netbook so that he could remain in communication with all the family as he goes on from The Baby's house to Bilbao, London, and Berlin, in order to, respectively, see the Guggenheim, visit our other daughter, and attend a conference. (I don't like to travel. I don't want to go with him. What can I say? William Faulkner and I have one thing in common.)

The Nygren Interview; Or, My Life As A Winner (*1)

How classy does THAT sound? My buddy David Nygren, who blogs as/at The Urban Elitist, runs an occasional series of interviews with writers (of which he is himself one).

A few weeks ago, he asked if I'd answer a few questions. I said yes, and he posted the results of our e-interview today. This seems to be my week for baring my soul: first my detailed excursion into my drinking-and-drugging past, and now, the ugly facts of my so-called life as a writer.

[WARNING: what follows is digression into the politics of writing/publishing. a topic I rarely discuss here because, frankly, it's boring as hell.]

Because I used David's interview as a vehicle for violating the Great Taboo of the writing world: I talked numbers. (*2)

Among writers, numbers are the great unmentionable.  That's because some writers --- not all of them, but some --- love to play "Mine's Bigger." The "mine" in this case being the royalty statement (number of books sold) or bank account. They follow other writers' Amazon ranking (which, I'm here to tell you, don't mean much) or other publishing numbers, watching, vulture-like, for evidence that a book has "failed."

(This, by the way, is a game based on speculation, rather than fact, because none of the "public" numbers mean much of anything.)

"Failure" meaning it's not on a "bestseller" list of one kind or another. (Never mind that of the hundreds of thousands of books sold every year, only a few dozen land on a "bestseller" list. And never mind that most of those lists are representative of not much of anything.)

And when they have enough "evidence" in hand, it's pounce time: "HA HA HAAAAAAAAA! His/Her book FAILED!" Which is followed by :"He/She is a LOSER!"

Because, sadly, many writers confuse the content of one's character with the content of one's checkbook. (Apologies to Dr. King.)

I'm here to tell you: I'm not a "successful" writer. I've not made much money, or sold many books.

But if we're measuring "success" in terms of moral character or integrity, or peace of heart and mind, or "happiness," by fucking god, I'm a success.

So, long-winded way of explaining one reason why I don't hang out much with other writers, or spend time at writers' forums. (The other reason being, as I noted in the interview, that it's counter-productive. Makes more sense to hang out with the general public. That's where the action is.)

End of boring digression.

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*1: With a nod to an essay I wrote a couple of years ago whose subtitle was "My Life As A Loser."

*2: If I could do it over, I'dve added another number: 18,000. That's the number of copies sold of Ambitious Brew, through December 31, 2008. Copies sold, not copies read --- because as I noted in the interview, many, many readers read used copies. Not sure how to calculate the number of copies read (including library copies). Triple the number sold? Quadruple?

Legalizing Drugs. Has the Moment Finally Come? Part 2 of 2

Part 1

That argument I described in Part 1 is apparently gaining ground. (Mine was a decidedly minority view thirty years ago, which means the rest of the world is getting smarter, or I was dumb long before it was fashionable.)

I mention this because legalization is in the news, thanks to our economic woes. Federal lawmakers are pondering ways to raise revenues, and as is always the case when times are tough, they’re turning their attention to “sin” in all its forms. (As I noted a few days ago, Senators recently heard arguments in favor of raising taxes on a legal ”drug,” alcohol.)

In the past few days, the New York Times has run two op-ed pieces worth reading. One is a terrific short piece by Nick Gillespie, who is with the Reason Foundation. Do yourself a favor and read it.

The other is also interesting, but problematic. The author is Michael Winerip, who writes the “Generation B” column in the Times’ Sunday Styles section. (*1) (The “B” refers to “boomer.” Winerip is a Baby Boomer and comments on life for us middle-aged types.)

The essay is worth reading, if only for the comments of Ethan Nadelman, a legalization advocate. But the gist of his essay is the conundrum that drugs pose for many boomers: They did drugs; they’re not sure they want their kids to do them. He muses about his own experience, and his worries about his kids’ fondness for alcohol.

He also interviews David Sheff, who wrote a memoir about his son’s drug addiction. Sheff apparently opposes, or at least fears, legalization because he believes, based on his son’s experience, that “soft” drugs lead to “hard” drugs.

I understand his pain --- no one wants to their kid to become a drug addict. But it doesn’t make sense for him to extrapolate from one case to every case.

The reality is that some people can’t handle drugs, probably because their genes are wired that way. Some people can’t handle alcohol; again, it’s likely the culprit is their genes rather than some character flaw. I can’t handle caffeine. My son-in-law is lactose intolerant. Should we outlaw diary products? Or coffee? I don’t think so.

Here’s the point, such as it is: When it comes to alcohol and drugs, we humans (or, more specifically, we Americans) throw reason out the window.

The facts are that millions of people consume alcohol every day, and they’re not degenerate drunks.

I’ve known, what?, several thousand people in my life? I’d say that most of them drink. But I’ve only known two people who drank themselves to death. And in the case of both, it was clear when they were teen-agers that their relationship to alcohol was, well, different than everyone else’s. They weren’t bad people; they simply couldn’t handle alcohol. That’s sad, and I’m sorry they both died young (age fifty).

But that’s not a reason for me to stop drinking.

Ditto for drugs: I’ve done lots of ‘em. So have many people I know. And nearly all the people I know who did drugs stopped doing them. Only a tiny percentage had a “drug problem.”

Our illegal “drug” problem, however, is gargantuan and harms every member of society. People who want drugs will get them People who want to shoot guns are gonna find, buy, and use guns. All the laws in the world won’t stop them from doing so.

So let’s do the rational thing and legalize drugs. You’ll be safer, your kids will be safer, and we could use those tax dollars to fund schools, parks, libraries, and other good stuff.

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*1: “Eh?” you say. “The Styles section? What the hell you doing reading the Styles section??” Answer: It’s my weekly anthropological expedition into the world of the shallow, the vain, the neurotic, the terminally rich-hip, and the fashion-fascists. The inhabitants of the Styles section live in a world remote from my o own, and so their lives are, anthropologically speaking, fascinating. (Well, okay, I'm shallow and neurotic. But not vain. Or hip. And, as anyone who's seen me in the 3-D world knowns, definitely not, um, fashion-oriented.)

Legalizing "Drugs." Has the Moment Finally Come? Part 1 of 2

Let’s talk for a moment about illegal drugs, shall we? Illegal drugs and the legalization thereof.

First let’s get some background out of the way, so you don’t think I’m a random dumbass who’s shooting my mouth (or, rather, my keyboard) randomly.

When I was in my twenties, I tried and/or used regularly every drug known to humankind and then some. Name a drug, I’ve at least tried it. (Okay, I exaggerate a bit, but not much.)

Nearly every adult I know between the ages of 45 and 60 used drugs at one time. I have friends who who still smoke pot regularly.

Can drugs be dangerous? You bet. A few weeks ago, the son of an old friend died of an overdose. (He’d overdosed several times before; this time, however, was his last.)

I also know alcohol. I grew up in a household dominated by parental alcoholic insanity (although the booze only exacerbated other problems). I spent two of my 20-something years drunk, and I mean that literally: For two years, I was never sober.

I still drink alcohol every day. I haven’t done any illegal drugs for years, mainly because there are only 24 hours in a day, and I’ve made choices about how to spend those hours. (*1)

So I am no stranger to alcohol or drugs. I’m not some wide-eyed pollyanna or knee-jerking liberal.

And for thirty years, I’ve favored the legalization of currently illegal drugs. My opinion of thirty years is simple (because I'm simple-minded?): Drug dealers make billions every year selling drugs, and yet they pay no taxes. Drug users spend billions on drugs every years, and yet they don’t pay taxes on those purchases. The drugs are gonna get bought and sold whether they’re legal or illegal, so we taxpayers might as well reap some benefit from the industry

. ___________________

*1: I’ve long said that if there were 48 hours in the day, I’d probably spend about half of them drinking and drugging to excess.)