My Love Affair With Booze

My love affair with booze began in 1957. I was thirteen and my father and I had been working in the yard all day. We retired, two hardworking guys, to the basement, where dad had a wet bar and a refrigerator stocked with beer. He offered me my first b beer quite nonchalantly, as if I deserved it. It was a bonding type of moment. Dad, a first generation Irishman, who retained a bit of a brogue, grew up in a world where drinking was an integral part of the culture. He knew I would drink. This was my first lesson, like a father teaching his son how to throw a football.