The thirsty traveler…

My Dad gave me my first swig of alcohol when I was 7.  It was from a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon…it was nasty but I was intrigued.  Crown Royal was his drink of choice and as far as beers his brands included: Mickey’s Big Mouth, Schlitz, Old Style and Miller High Life.  He would go to the basement on a Saturday night with a glass of ice and a fifth and turn up the Hi-Fi.  You can hear the sounds of Miles, Dizzy, Chick, The Time, The Bros. Johnson, EWF, Slave, Mingus, etc…seeping through the floor boards.  Me and my brother would sit at the top of the steps as he preached to us what “real” music sounds like and how Elvis stole his greatness from great negro bluesmen like Bo Diddley. 

When I turned 13 I started to feel my swagger and chose Crown Royal as my drink of choice.  Daddy left an unopened bottle behind and of course I wanted to emulate him in every shape and fashion.  It was my freshmen year in high school and I would come home, pour a drink in one of momma’s good coffee cups and set out on the porch and soak in the evening atmosphere.  From then on my appetite was satisfied by raiding liquor cabinets from my homies houses or trying to get a hook up at Town & Country Liquors on 103^rd Street.   I moved to beer because it was cheaper and readily accessible for my budget.  Me and my boy E would venture to a store across from the Chicago Stadium because they didn’t check ID’s and sold 6 packs of Busch for $1.25.  Some weekends we would hit up Bubble’s on 87^th & Stoney and get a 64 ounce of Special Export or head to Hyde Park and get some Gil’s homemade brew.  Gil’s was the beer that “never went flat” or at least that’s what the label said.  You could bring the bottles back and they would give you loot to put on for the next one.

By my junior year I got a gig as an Andy Frain usher at the Stadium, Soldier Field and various events around the city.  Pockets weren’t fat but they were lumpy enough to where I could reintroduce myself to an old friend…Crown Royal.   One thing about quality liquor is you have to treat it with respect and it will respect you…a lesson I had to learn the hard way.  Since E’s momma band his ass from taking her car I became the designated driver to all the functions.  We would hop in my mom’s 1980 Buick Skylark and float down the outer drive.  This particular night I had a bottle of CR put I couldn’t get in the rotation because I was busy dodging the law and potholes.  It was a Friday night and we were on are way to the Bismarck to hear my man Lil Louis beat the box in the middle of winter.  If found a parking space on Wells Ave. and proceeded to catch up with the rest of the dudes.  These thirsty negros drink damn near half the bottle and ain’t put on for shit!  I turned it up and killed the rest, and headed into the function.  About mid way through the evening the shit started to hit a brotha.  I was dancing with my girlfriend who had met me there and then suddenly I couldn’t see anymore.  All I could see was a bunch of little white lights and then nothing….All I recall was my boy B picking me up of the dance floor.

My college years became the “screw top” years because that’s when I started drinking MD 20/20, Night Train, Jack Daniels and the infamous Thunderbird.  I was introduced to Thunderbird by my man Mike Bond from Detroit.  It was delicious when it was cold but when a little warmth started to creep in…man, it’s time to put the cup down and back away.  There were many parties that I was “the life of” and the next day I couldn’t recall one moment…shit is downright scary.   After I crossed the burning sands into “Alphadom” I got into Miller’s Genuine Draft not because it was a decent beer but because of the colors of the bottle…black & gold.   I was basically a “brown liquor” cat until I enlisted in the Army Reserves and was stationed in Virginia.  There I hooked up with some Lieutenants and they introduced by to an assortment of Vodkas and Gins.  Bombay Sapphire and of course Tangueray were my main staples.  When I returned home and got a steady gig I started to dabble in Scotch and Tequila of course not at the same time.  I pretty much hit ‘em all …I’m still figuring out the champagne thing but just give my time.  Until next time… Cheers!

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