Booze.

by mike disturbed

Posted to Utterances on 2002-12-06 21:02:00


I’m staring at the box, salivating, knowing, as soon as I please I need only get a glass, and 12 years of goodness, hard work and tradition will wet my gullet. Booze is neat for several reasons, because it says so many things, indeed, it is many things, older than any other beverage that requires some sort of man-motivated production. A martini in a slender hand with long black boots says something, it adds to the visual, a culturally constructed romance that says cool, too cool to become cliché, bold enough to still assert powerfully, tasty enough to last another 50 years. Scotch, single-malt if the J.O.B. is working out, the cops-bottle if not, all alone in front of the keys, banging away, ratt a tatt tatt, maybe a cigar, maybe a beard, maybe both. Booze carries image, but even that, every long black boot and wizened old type-writer, can’t outshine the escape, the rush, the wham THANK-YOU, that every 1st year undergraduate, middle-age Bukowski wannabe, and last-legged alcoholic gets when the liquid hits the palate, the wave. It is new, it is you, it is fresh, you can can, so slam slam, and save a glass for me. Cheers.

-m