As the American Presidential race is currently running at fevered pitch, the press—ever watchful and observant, and always acting on our behalf—alert the public to everything about the candidates from what color their bed sheets were as a child to whether or not their fiber is presently effective.
We’re given a thorough evaluation of the big scale decisions they’ve made to the minutia of off-camera life, because who isn’t fascinated by the contents of our candidates’ glove compartments, right?
Things have certainly changed since our first president was elected in 1789, and since George Washington wasn’t scrutinized in the same fashion as today’s runners, he was fortunate enough to escape the prying eyes employed at present which would surely have made mincemeat of his past. I won’t go into the marijuana growing or the fact that he possessed only one real tooth, but the bit about his fervor as a distiller of whiskey and, according to some, one overenthusiastic with its intake, might have sent up a few red flags had he been trying to gain the popular vote at the time.
Abraham Lincoln didn’t exactly make hooch so much as sell it. Even his dad worked at a local distillery doing odd jobs when Abe was a babe.
As it turns out, it was a tricky time for Mr. Lincoln because of the Temperance movement. Owning a store in the backwoods of New Salem, one was forced to sell what the community needed (read: demanded). Whiskey was just as much a necessity as bacon, beeswax, and bee vomit (read: honey). Many criticized the man for participation in dram selling and voiced the opinion that those who sold liquor were minions of Satan. But Lincoln’s address to the Evangelicals of the reformed drinker movement is in essence summed up by Mahatma Gandhi’s quote, “Hate the sin and not the sinner.”
I’m guessing Hollywood did not read that chapter in their history books and have gone ahead to reveal the long-hidden truth that Lincoln was, in fact, a vampire hunter and slayer. Again, I’m sure in modern times, some savvy journalist would have sniffed this bit out.
John Adams had a strong penchant for Madeira, cider and beer, complaining bitterly when it wasn’t available. And who could fault the guy? Anyone who starts smoking at the age of eight surely knows what will best cut the taste of nicotine first thing in the morning. Let’s give the kid a break.
James Buchanan could have qualified for the Olympic drinking team had there been one, as his capacity for drink—namely old rye, champagne, Jacob Baer Whiskey and cognac—could rival the recycling bin of your average frat house.
Grover Cleveland “enjoyed” his beer—as much as four to eight bottles of it a day—which left him with a beer gut that mirrored the great Buddha belly.
What can be said of Thomas Jefferson, apart from the fact that the man not only knew his wines, but endeavored to grow them?
Our founding fathers ran up an epic bar tab in Philadelphia’s City Tavern at a dinner to honor George Washington a couple of days before penning their signatures to the Constitution, including eight bottles of whisky, twelve of beer, seven bowls of alcoholic punch, 22 bottles of porter, eight of hard cider, 54 bottles of Madeira and 60 of claret. That was divided between the 55 delegates to the Constitutional Convention.
It’s no wonder most of their signatures are illegible.
I think the lesson learned here is not so much one that suggests all of the fellahs reviewed were supremely lucky to get away with the swilling habits of most sailors on ship leave, but one that will have you realizing what thirsty work governing America truly is.
Don’t forget to check out what I blethered on about this week on the main post page (here) and find out what’s cookin’ in the scullery too (here)!
5 thoughts on “America’s Presidential Partying”
U SKAWLUR U.
i’ll keep most (well, mebbe some) of this diatribe awn tawpik (woosky) but also lament: you, to me, epitomize the type of writer who has the (mis)adventures, does the stuff, the experiences and writes about it with at least a couple of the doors or windows of perception (thanx, aldous H) open whilst re-galing.
you also seem to epitomize the writer who also doesn’t have to leave the couch: the imagination can and will come up with the daily or bi-weekly epistles to the appreciative readers. i have to have experienced a disaster of gigantic comic proportions to have the kernel which, when rolled down a steep-enough hill of the appropriate-stickiness-of-snow, to snowbawl into the story.
in progress i have a few drafts … just the title Zombie Apocalypse Survival Camp is most of one. another describes (so i hope) a recent “court case” in which i was the sole witness (witless?) for the prosecution. The ‘Camp’ will, iffen-when written, involve woosky.
i report not from the scotch arena, but from american bourbon/rye. like you, i can taste the difference; unlike you i don’t know why the difference. bought 10th Mountain Division Rye a week ago today. made in or near Vail. most the bottle has disappeared. bought Wyoming Whiskey (did i previously/separately tell you this?) a month or three back and was profoundly disappointed. Tincup (allegedly the son of Stranahan’s) is also disappointing, but not as totally as WW. would make a decent addition to ginger ale, or choc malt milk bawls. Have yet to try Woody Creek (distilled/etc. near Aspen). Breckenridge bourbon is good, and not over-priced. The Palisade distillery bourbon is somewhat expensive, and would be “worth it” at half the price. and i’m sure you’ve encountered/followed SunTouri — which i used to get for half the present price. I know I mentioned a New Zealand ‘scotch’ previously. judging from the crumpled up receipt in the bag, the kids may have $pent $100 for a pre$ent for dear?old! dad. no wonder i savored it and the bottle lasted (seriously) two years …
Well, I’m glad you have the kernels cooking, and as far as getting the gas going, that’s just a matter of practice. It’s a writer’s job to have their butt in a chair and to demand their muse shows up when whistled for. I’m sure if you were to poll my muse, you’d find he or she has made a shedload of trips to HR in order to fill out complaints against me. I’m a tyrant.
And with all these distilleries around you, have you thought about visiting them and their tasting rooms before buying? That is, if they have tasting rooms.
But you certainly are lucky to have folks out your way who are at least attempting to learn and practice the craft. Rome wasn’t built in a day …
Here’s hoping I can find a way to get my hands on a bottle of that NZ spirit. It really sounds worthy.
topical and pertinent and stateme(a)nt-of-the-times as ever! this post. and of coarse/course Rob made the ‘update’ a bit more fun. partying such as yoove described would make THIS YEAR’S debacle a bit more tolerable !
I’ll raise a glass to that, B. Cheers!