drinking

WOODBRIDGE MERLOT by ROBERT MONDAVI (2010)—You don’t have to tell me to like it

My Fellow Inebriates,

The one time I watched The Big Bang Theory I ended up cowering under the table, finally done in by its relentless laughtrack, desperate to escape the canned exhortations to roar with uncontrollable mirth at see-it-from-a-mile-away comic set-ups that warranted a snicker at best.

I wanted to like The Big Bang Theory. Several respected (if not respectable) friends had recommended it. Multiple awards commend the show. The geek/physicist characters couldn’t be more lovable in concept. The Big Bang Theory doesn’t even seem to be a guilty pleasure for its following—fans openly and wholeheartedly recommend it to friends as one of television’s rare gems.

But instead of happily joining the bandwagon I found myself cringing, paws to ears, so distracted by frantic machine-generated pseudolaughter that I could barely follow the plot. True, I was drunk, and, also true, bears have very sensitive ears. But the laughtrack problem went beyond those issues. It made me want to run away.

Thing is, I didn’t mind the show. It was kind of quirky and fun, and I could imagine getting to know the characters. But I couldn’t stand the obnoxious cues to laugh. It was like having a jackboot on my larynx—Laugh! Laugh, you piece of shit! Laugh! Don’t you know it’s funny?!

I think it was actually less funny because of the laughtrack.

There are plenty of TV shows that fly without a laughtrack: The Office, 30 Rock, Entourage, Family Guy—you name it. They use musical cues to emphasize comic timing, plus they’re funny. They’re actually funny, and you can tell because you’re not being hammered into submission by that unceasing, slider-controlled background noise.

Being told to laugh is sort of like being told by a shelf talker that a wine is worth 88 points. Only it’s a screamingly loud shelf talker that doesn’t understand you’ve already decided to buy the wine and are prepared to enjoy it—it needs to keep yelling at you that it’s great, Robert Parker swilled it for five seconds and pronounced it worthy, it’s awesome, it’s great, it’s an 88, 88, 88, 88, eighty-eight, eighty-plus-eight, four-score-and-eight…arggghhhh!

I have no idea whether Robert Parker has reviewed ROBERT MONDAVI WOODBRIDGE MERLOT (2010), but that was the wine that got me drunk the night I watched Big Bang Theory. Shared among four glasses (each of which I visited repeatedly) rather than decanted, the dark ruby merlot sheeted smoothly on the Reidel stemless ware and then formed long legs. Cherries, plums and raisins were the frontline aromas, with a subtle hint of spice.

On the tongue the merlot delivered on its dried-fruit olfactory promise, supple and juicy yet dry. Not overly tannic, the wine boasted concentrated flavors and a decent finish. It was ideal for a social occasion featuring distracting conversation and pre-K kids under the dinner table—not so complex that it demanded undivided attention, but satisfying as a table wine and a meal accompaniment for those who like to eat solids.

MONDAVI WOODBRIDGE MERLOT certainly didn’t require any cheerleading to be enjoyed. At $13.99 and 13.5% alcohol it fit the evening nicely, and hey—a shelf talker didn’t tell us to buy it. Too bad for us we followed it with a bottle of MONT GRAS SOLEUS, but even that was a windfall for me, because I got to finish what others wouldn’t.

And that’s why I was drunk for Big Bang Theory.

ASTROLIQUOR for Jan. 23-29—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

People are trying to force you to be someone you’re not, Aries, but they are in for a fight. You’re not going to be cornered, nor are you going to be diplomatic. It’s not just because of all the alcohol in your system; it’s because you can be a real dick when your mind’s made up. If someone offers you a beer, you’ll insist on taking your own bizarre path. Might as well try this:

  • 3 oz banana schnapps
  • 5 oz strawberry schnapps
  • 3 oz half-and-half cream

Drink it all day just to make your point. Then barf on your tormentors.

Taurus, you have to pull yourself together! Go out and enjoy yourself—joke around, say hi to strangers, think about mating. You have tons of energy and imagination, and people are ready to listen to you. Since you’re in party mode, here’s a party drink:

  • 3 oz orange juice
  • 2 oz pineapple juice
  • 1 kiwi
  • 5 strawberries
  • 1/4 cup watermelon

Blend it all up with ice and pour it into a pina colada glass. Ahhh! Who says it’s too cold?

You’re feeling lonely, Gemini, and you’re worried about letting people down. Sometimes people with your star sign experience feelings of inferiority and hurt pride. But that’s what alcohol is for. You’ll find that if you make the effort to reach out, your friends will be ready to get loaded with you. How about setting some drinks on fire? Try igniting a mixture of Kahlua and sambuca, then throwing Bailey’s and Blue Curacao on top of it. That will make you feel special.

You need more sleep than you think, Cancer. Somehow passing out doesn’t count as proper rest, so you have to coordinate your drinking a bit better so you can sober up at work instead of wasting your nighttime sleep hours burning off alcohol. It’s tricky, but you’re smart enough. Drinking at work has another side benefit, too: you’ll be less inhibited with your coworkers, one of whom has a little crush on you. Needless to say, vodka is a nice odorless choice for the office, but I’d still add some Blue Curacao.

Leo, you’re in a romantic dreamland, unable to focus, drifting from art to music to drama. You can’t decide—to party or to be alone? To spend or to save? To hang inside or go streaking? All this vacillation stems from lack of energy. Grab a caffeinated energy drink and throw some raspberry vodka shots into it. Shake it up and pound it. That’ll get your head on straight.

This is a good week for gambling, Virgo, whether on the stock market or at the casino. You’re not bulletproof, though—you have a tendency to keep playing after your luck has run out. This is where alcohol comes in: As soon as you sense you’ve peaked, reallocate your wallet to the bar and buy yourself some vodka/grape juice martinis. But watch out for an obnoxious Sagittarius who doesn’t have an “indoor voice.” This person will be such a nuisance that others will offer to punch him/her out for you. Take them up on it.

Libra, you can’t change other people; you can only change yourself. But why change at all? You’re having a very social week and bumping into all sorts of new people who’ll dig you for you. Have you ever mixed bourbon with a whole bunch of fruit in the blender and tossed red currants into it? You should totally do that and share it with your new friends.

This is a time for regrouping, assessing, and committing to hard work, Scorpio. But it’s also a good time for downing a bottle of red wine. Sometimes you get very manic when you decide to revamp your life, and alcohol has a good tempering effect. You have plenty of time—nothing will change drastically until April (when you start putting away boxes of wine instead of bottles).

Sagittarius, the next few months promise spiritual discovery and profound intuition. You are more open-minded than you have been in weeks. But it’s not a good time to take on new projects at work. You are too messed up with vodka (the catalyst for your developing Third Eye). If the visions come on too strong, mix that vodka with something—how about some ice cream plus Kahlua and Bailey’s? As good as a meal.

This is a good week to boss people around, Capricorn. You’re a natural leader with so much charisma that people are chomping at the bit to follow you. When you’re this powerful, you can get away with anything, so fill up that flask. Not just with odorless vodka—add some apricot brandy, knowing that you are truly untouchable (at least for a while).

Wow, Aquarius, there are a whole bunch of constellations coinciding in your part of the sky, and that makes you feel superhuman. Don’t jump off the roof, though; keep at least a partial grip on reality. Try to calm down a bit with some nice boozy coffee:

  • 1 cup coffee
  • 1 oz vodka
  • 0.5 oz Kahlua
  • 0.5 oz amaretto
  • Whipped cream and sugar to taste

Practice making this drink because you’re going to meet someone in April who enjoys lovely, sensuous beverages.

Pisces, you’re back to work again—congratulations! But keep a low profile; nobody really knows you yet and it’s probably best to keep it that way. If you’re planning to embezzle money, for example, you certainly don’t want any higher-ups to know who you are. You’ll find you have access to many beautiful and expensive things. Be careful! When you’re staggering around on a blackberry schnapps bender it’s all too easy to break the crystal.

BROKER’S GIN—Part 6!

My Fellow Inebriates,

I suspect Julia Gale of Broker’s Gin likes me quite a bit.

I know, I know, that’s not very modest, but she’s sent me some very lovely messages lately. True, they’re mostly reassurances that I’m not forgotten—*sniff*—even though Martin Dawson and Andy Dawson couldn’t fit me into their Vancouver business trip.

The important thing is that they accomplish their mission: reestablishing Broker’s Gin on the BCLS shelves.

Whether or not they succeed, I feel that Julia and I have definitely established a solid friendship. And whatever they are paying her at Broker’s Gin…they should double it. No, triple it.

Just look at some of our conversation snippets:

“refined and distinguished”

“recovering from the compliments”

“sausage fest”

“small handcuffs”

“bed and/or sofa-ridden”

“cavity searching in my absence”

“bear fetish”

“unnatural acts”

“herding eels”

“safe word”

“between Barry White and a pornstar”

“slippery with velvet paw pads”

“mouth-breather”

“yours ever”

“Toodlepip!”

All right, so I might have said a lot of those things…but I still think Julia gets me somehow.

I think she genuinely wants me to drink gin.