Booze and Kids

The other day, in Eric Asimov’s column for the New York Times, he wrote about a subject that rings near and dear to my heart—the ongoing discussion of alcohol’s place in the family. Growing up in a small town in South Texas, in a family that had “zero tolerance” to anything alcoholic, gives me an interesting perspective on Mr. Asimov’s writing.

Apparently in the early days of my parent’s marriage, they were neighbors to an older couple who liked to imbibe, well…all of the time. These folks weren’t just social drinkers. They were the wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-walk-down-stairs-to-take-a-l’il-nip-out-of-the-old-scotch-bottle-in-order-to-keep-the-buzz-going types. A clear head was not their goal. As time passes, one gets to know their neighbors, and my parents observed how the medium of alcohol ruled every aspect of their lives (or how they LET it rule their lives).

I never knew the fellow, but just before I was born he suddenly died of a non-alcohol-related brain aneurism. Now fast forward to my adolescent years. Seeing the negative effects that alcohol had on their friends, my parents took the zero tolerance approach. Luckily, being the perfect son that I am, I didn’t sneak around behind their backs to drink.

On to college. I was on my own and had the opportunity to do pretty much whatever I wanted. Oddly enough, it was at this time that I really began to understand and get into, as Michael Ruhlman put it, “ambitious restaurant food”. Along with finally understanding what potential food has, came a desire to learn about the ability that certain beverages have to elevate it when properly paired. On my own, I developed a natural respect for alcohol.

Currently, my interest in beer, wine, and cocktails is not something that is often discussed between my parents and me. I know and understand their position, but Mr. Asimov’s article put into words everything that I have always thought when my mother raises the question of, “How are you going to handle it with your kids?”

Growing up in the area in which I did, the question of how old a child should be when they learn how to properly shoot a gun or be given the responsibility of keeping it in their room or cleaning it after its use, is seldom given more thought than that of deciding to get a baby on a solid-food diet. My grandfather gave me my first .22 caliber rifle when I was in the 2^nd or 3^rd grade. Of course, since it was a real firearm, I was only allowed to use it under strict supervision. Around the same time, I was given a Red-Rider BB gun (no compass in the stock…sigh) to play with and use at will, without supervision.

Upon receiving my driver’s license at age 16, I got more freedom. Sometimes this meant a trip to the ranch with a friend. Never did we go to the country without a truck full of various guns. Maybe shotguns for shooting skeet, a high powered rife in case we came across a pesky wild hog, and possibly a small caliber pistol or two for target practice. I realize some of you city-types are probably thinking, “What the _____?!?!?!” My point though is this: We were taught from an extremely early age to respect firearms. We were taught gun safety and how to be responsible around them.

Regardless though, you might be thinking, “BUT YOU WERE JUST KIDS!!! And accidents happen!” I do not have a valid argument against that statement, but I think similarly, as Asimov expressed, parents should demonstrate by their actions, the proper way to respect and be responsible with alcohol.

My parents both enjoy good food. At our holidays, we go to great lengths to prepare the best food we can—sometimes even flying some special pork in from out of state. What do I want more than anything though at those wonderful family meals? To have the opportunity to open a great bottle of wine or make a pre-meal cocktail for them to enjoy in addition to the food. Something to give an example of what levels a meal can be elevated to, when the right bottle of wine is paired.

In hindsight, it would have been extremely easy to take the road more traveled for sheltered kids get their freedom in college. Thankfully the interest for flavor developed, and I didn’t end up going down the same road as my similarly-raised friends, who took every opportunity in school to really hit it hard. Obviously, no one is perfect and there have been those times where I had too much, but the inherent respect for the alcohol is deeply ingrained.

Being on this side of child-rearing, my initial instinct would be to use the model of “taught respect” for alcohol as it relates to my children in the same manner that my father taught me about firearms. It seems to make sense at this point in my life, but as my mom famously touts, “We’ll see what it is like when you are in OUR position”.