Alcohol and I have a long and twisted history.

As part of the clean up of the house Dana came upon a cache of booze which had sat, untouched, behind a lock all year. I called dibs on an old friend, gin.

Gin was my first "legal" drink. My parents were great social drinkers. In the corner of our dining room was a fold out liquor cabinet which was the center of gatherings of friends. I can only really remember one time when I saw my folks something close to drunk. Actually, all they were was a little louder and boisterous than usual but I could tell what had fueled the noise.

So, alcohol was a part of my life and nothing I was shunned from or told was "evil". When I got into High School I was introduced to beer. Well, re-introduced, actually. There was a moment on a trip to Michigan when I was asked to take out the trash including a just finished bottle of beer with just a dribble left sloshing at the bottom. As I walked away from the house I looked back to be sure I was away from prying eyes and lifted the bottle to my lips. The moment the room temprature ale hit my tongue it was sprayed back out in classic spit-take style.

Five years later, however, it was good ole Miller High Life coursing through my system as I stood in front of my parents, swaying in an unseen breeze, asking for permission to stay out later with the cast of our Letterman's Follies. It was also during High School that my friend Mike introduced me to my first mixed drink of Midori and Sprite. I can still see us plopped down in from of the school administration building emptying the bottles and staggering our way back along Warwick Avenue. I can picture it, I just have no idea of how we got there or back.

I really liked that Midori and Sprite!

But still, I really didn't know much about the art of the drink. I had heard all these exotic names as I was growing up; Sloe Gin Fizz, martini, Highball, Manhattan and so on. However, I had no idea what they tasted like or what was in them.

I was out to dinner one night with my mother and sister Joan and her family at this restaurant along the water in East Greenwich. I was 17 and still under the leagal age to drink. However, since my mother was the one ordering she was allowed to let me drink it under her supervision. So, for the first time as an "adult" my mother turned to me and asked if I wanted a drink.

My mind froze.

I couldn't think of a single drink. All those years of hearing my dad ask friends what they were having and he threw them together like a master and I couldn't come up with a one. I had no idea what drink went with the food I had ordered. I didn't have a clue if I was going to be ordering a heavy drink or some frilly after dinner minty thing.

The only thing that went through my mind were the words to "Piano Man".

"I'll have a tonic and gin", I said confidently.

"He'll have a gin and tonic," my mother sighed as she corrected me and rolled her eyes in the direction of the waitress.

So here I sit 29 years later with a glass of "tonic and gin" before me. I'm sure I didn't mix it right as it doesn't have that same tangy taste I remember. Well, maybe that could be nostalgia creeping in on the memory.

I've drank lots. I've been drunk lots. I've been in two drunk driving accident one each as intoxicant and as victim of an impaired driver. I was dry for 7 years. I have been fall-down drunk, laughing loud drunk, blacked out drunk and depressed and lonely drunk. I enjoy drinking and it seems to enjoy me.

So I'll finish this glass and raise it to all those I've ever had a drink with. I'll raise it to my father with whom I never had a drink. I'll also raise it to my son with whom I will have a drink someday.

Suddenly.......I'm having a craving for Midori and Sprite!