My Fellow Inebriates,
Last night my parents sneaked a wine past me—and not just a wine but a dinner guest as well. Usually, when someone comes to LBHQ, I like to make an appearance, attempt a sexy dance, get some unsolicited cuddles, and otherwise secure blog content, but yesterday I was distracted by the People of Walmart when D arrived. All I noticed was the smell of chicken being cooked by my mother, which wasn’t exactly a lure. Little did I know, social activity was commencing with UGLY SWEATER MILK STOUT followed by a 2010 Bonarda that D had kindly brought over.
I was distracted, okay?
I would have clued in sooner or later, but it was an unusually short visit. D arrived, then promptly received several (say, 15) text messages from her daughter asking that she pick her up from work, a good 45 kilometres away, just as dinner was being served. The 20-year-old had forgotten her house key and needed not just a ride home from work but assistance getting inside. Right away. Like, right away! Which meant dinner went by in a flash, my mother drank most of the wine, D left hurriedly, and I arrived just in time for a small leftover and not-very-social sample of the wine. Oh well.
Bonarda is a varietal that’s currently achieving some ascendancy in Argentina. Originally from Italy, it’s historically been used as a blending grape to supply acidity and structure to jammier blends with its dark, highly tannic profile. Increasingly, Bonarda grapes are headlining in products such as VALLE LAS ACQUIAS. Generously fruity with a violet-black tinge and weighty mouthfeel, this 2010 wine exudes fresh earth and parches the palate with tannins accompanied by mild barnyard notes (my dad called them “fierce”), falling short of the fruity orgy we tend to favor at LBHQ. The wine is certainly not ungenerous with fruit—dark berries and currents are readily discernible—but these chords are submerged somewhat beneath some palate-chapping oakiness that tends to make the tasting experience a bit clipped.
Despite the wine’s minor shortcomings, I was highly offended to have been left out of a social occasion. I would certainly have embarrassed everyone behaved myself and not mentioned the Apocalypse, thongs, or the ongoing paranormal activities at LBHQ, nor would I have suggested that a 20-year-old could find something to do for three hours while her mother enjoyed an evening out, rather than psycho-dialing her on her cellphone until her mother, offering profuse apologies, scarfed down supper and went to pick her up.
I hope neither of them reads this, and I feel pretty confident that they won’t, but if they do, they should know it all comes from my inner alcoholic, who feels burned at having missed out on almost everything, even though he doesn’t really believe in eating supper at all.
Liquorstore Bear 
I saw an ad for liquorstore bear for this Christmas season, I found it to be in very poor taste!! The ad had liquor bottles placed to create a nativity seen, including one in a manger to represent my Savior!! I found this to be extremely
distasteful and offensive! There are just so many other things you could have done in order to advertise for this season! If you need help in your advertising department, feel free to contact me! I assure you I can do much better than that for any season! Extending you wishes for a very Merry Christmas, and of course, a Happy New Year!
Excuse me, but where did you see a Liquorstore Bear advertisement? I do not have any advertising contracts. If someone has purchased some ad space on my behalf, I’d love to know about it.
If someone wishes to create a nativity scene consisting of alcohol bottles, why is that any more or less offensive than one consisting of plastic/wood/glass figures? Is your objection to the medium the “artist” used? Or to the association between liquor and Christ’s birth?
I do not personally build nativity scenes, and if I came across one like the one you describe, it would promptly be short a shepherd or a wise man 😉
I think we should always remember that being offended is a CHOICE. Rather than experience the kneejerk reaction of “taking offense,” we should consider what triggers we object to. Do you consider the essence of the nativity to have been appropriated by someone who does not share your reverence? For all you know, the alcohol nativity scene was assembled with the utmost piety by someone who had nothing but alcohol bottles available as art materials. Is it not a little Pharisee-like to judge the product?
The fact is, someone has gone to the trouble of making a nativity scene. It may not be to your taste, or to most people’s for that matter, but it is not inherently blasphemous, unless you believe God objects to alcohol (and how could He, when Jesus did indeed make wine?). Someone has in fact done some biblical reading to establish who was at the manger with Christ, and represented each, right down to the swaddled Savior and the parthenogenetic Mary. Rather than condemn the whole thing, would it not be more interesting to speculate on the musings of the artist? This is not, I would venture, a person who is indifferent to religion.
Finally, I always take issue with the term “my Savior.” This to me is one of the most chauvinistic and ethnocentric phrases going. My dear reader, your Savior is YOUR SAVIOR because you happened to be born in a culture where that particular Savior is adored. Had you been born in Africa, Saudi Arabia, or a small planet circling Alpha Centauri, you would be hotly defending a different Savior and vilifying another artist for blaspheming.
And as a final postscript, all world cultures with access to grain and reasonably abundant water have made alcohol. That’s far more cultures than worship Jesus Christ.
Thanks for reading. I’m happy to rap with you about religion and alcohol any time, especially if they intersect.