My first drink was a Schlitz Malt Liquor beer. I was seven, so that put it in the summer ’61. We lived in a housing development in Lanham, MD. This particular afternoon me and dad were going to a little garden spot in the country that dad rented so he could grow some veggies. On the way there he handed me his beer and said, “take a drink.” I said, “ok.” I took the can and took a small swig. I hated it and spit it out the window of the ’65 Chevy pick-up. To this day I don’t know if I spit out, because I didn’t like the tastes of beer or because I didn’t like the tastes of Schlitz. 🙂 Well I became a Bud man a decade or so later. I don’t think I ever liked the tastes of beer, but when I became a Bud man I was just going with the flow.
I friend of mine celebrated three years sober today and a number of us went to lunch and had a great time. Some of us are rather loud, because we love being sober. I think one of the reason we are so happy is the monkey is no longer on our back. It’s a real good feeling knowing I don’t have awake to a hangover anymore.
Over lunch today the group laughed about past experiences, some drunken, some sober. One story reminded me of the time me and my best friend ended up (purely by accident) in my second ex-wife’s hometown. A couple of strange things happened on the way over that mountain heading towards Dalton, Georgia. My best friend and I thought one them to be a police matter, but the guy driving didn’t care and didn’t skip a beat and he just kept driving over the mountain. I guess that means I’m going to write a short story about it. If that happens and if it gets published somewhere, I’ll let you know when and where.