Bourbon 101: An Old Friend’s Cry For Help

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The call for help came in the form of a text message and a tweet which are words I never thought I’d type. My old and dear friend RK was in trouble and needed help. Indeed, his message was simply the word “Help” with the photo above. It appears a new “whiskey” bar had opened a couple of blocks from his home. Thankfully the “martini” bar fad has passed and whiskey is on the rise but I digress. As a good drinker, RK had immediately sauntered down to the new whiskey-themed joint and bellied up to the bar. But as often happens, he was confronted with a plethora of choices. Which whiskey to order? How do I avoid making a mistake here. Thankfully he came to the source, he came to BourbonAndVinyl.

Now I should probably take a step back for second to explain my view on friendship. I learned at an early age how valuable friends are. As a young, young man, I had forsaken all my friends for that oldest of reasons… love. Or, what I thought was love in my romantic, slightly drunken, immature heart. I had packed up all my stuff and took that leap of faith and moved to another city for a chick. After taking the leap, lets just say I landed hard when there was nothing to catch me. It was a lifetime ago, bygones and long forgotten… Embarrassed and chastened, I reached out to my friends, and to my surprise, all was forgiven. The prodigal was welcomed back to the fold with open arms. It dawned on me, that friends, true friends are some of the most important relationships a man can have. Dudes to drink and swear and talk a little treason with are invaluable. Friendship is sacred.

So when RK’s cry for help came to me, I took it very seriously. RK and I have a long history of tearing around Chicago. I seem to have a vague memory of drinking Hennessey with him and a homeless guy outside a Walgreens, but those records are mostly sealed. We’ve matured since then. I would do anything for RK… he’s one of those pals who could call in the middle of the night and I’d jump in my car with a weapon and $1000 bail money, no questions asked. And I must admit, RK is not the only one who has asked me about what bourbon to choose and what occasion to drink them. Luckily my friend Pest lives in Kentucky and took me out on the Bourbon Trail so I have cursory knowledge. What I’m about to tell you here is personal choice more than expertise. I’ve spent a lifetime drinking and frankly I don’t think there is anything better than whiskey.

My general rule – I always choose bourbon over whiskey if a good bourbon is available. Remember folks, all bourbons are whiskeys but not all whiskeys are bourbon. To be bourbon you have to have the right combination of grains, specifically a corn-mash and while it can actually be distilled anywhere, in my opinion it needs to come from Kentucky where the water is rich in minerals. It’s no coincidence they raise thoroughbred horses in Kentucky. Strong water = strong bones… and strong bourbon.

In the absence of bourbon, when it comes to American whiskeys, the one that is my go to is Gentlemen Jack, Jack Daniels’ premium whiskey. Until I discovered my love of bourbon this was my go to. I used to drink it neat because when I put ice in it, it goes down like coca-cola on a warm summer day. The next thing you know you’ll be trying to take your pants off over your head.

I tend to shy away from Canadian whiskeys because they’re sweeter. I like Canadian beer more than their whiskey. Sorry Canadians. If you’re looking to mix coke with your whiskey, and why the fuck would you do that, Canadian is probably where you go.

I hate Scotch. My apologies to my readers in the UK. Scotch tastes like whiskey gone bad. I know I’ll take a rash of shit on this. My buddy Doug has been trying to get me to drink a “good Scotch” for years but in my opinion, no such thing exists.

I love Rye as well when I want to mix it up. I actually like Bulleit Rye more than their bourbon. Rye has a more peppery finish to it. Its to bourbon what tabasco is to ketchup in my mind. I love the after taste of rye. Even in the presence of bourbon I will sometimes get a good Rye before dinner. I tend to lean on bourbon post eating.

I am very, very fond of Jameson if you’re going to with an Irish whiskey. I haven’t tried Tullamore Dew yet, but I am hearing great things about it. I tend to drink Irish whiskey on that most sacred of religious holidays, St Patrick’s Day. If I’m going to drink all day, I like a good Irish whiskey.

But again, at heart I’m a bourbon man. I drink it neat, or if I’m taking it slow I add ice. I never add mixer, to do so is blasphemy in my eyes. I don’t even add water. When confronted with a long list of bourbons, like the one photographed below, here’s my thoughts. I sorted this list based on cost:

Pappy Van Winkle: While this is not on the list above, I feel I must address Pappy Van Winkle. Yes, the rumors are true, it’s outstanding bourbon. My friend Arkansas Joel, who led me to my only shot of Pappy always warns though, anything under 20 years old isn’t worth the money. I tend to only drink Pappy when someone else is paying for it because, well, I’m poor.

Blanton’s: Blanton’s is as smooth as the ass of a high school cheerleader. It’s truly a wonderful bourbon. Again, from a cost perspective, Blanton’s is on the high end. I tend to drink it on special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries or after seeing the Stones in concert.

Woodford Reserve: Woodford is a less expensive, generally, than Blanton’s. It’s my go to bourbon. It’s what I drink when I’m sitting on my roof deck, watching the moon rise and contemplating life’s deep mysteries, which are usually something like, “when will Springsteen release a new LP.” I like Woodford so much I hide the bottle during parties so I don’t have to share it with anybody.

Maker’s Mark: I’ve been drinking Maker’s since right out of college. It’s in the middle of the price spectrum and I think it’s a great price performer. It’s a quality bourbon at an affordable price. Before going on the bourbon trail, Maker’s was my bourbon of choice. Typically I drink Maker’s now when I’m celebrating something and they don’t have Woodford. I also tend to use Maker’s as my “5 o’clock angel,” my end of day drink.

Buffalo Trace: For the life of me, I don’t know why they don’t charge more for Buffalo Trace. It’s a top notch Kentucky whiskey at a great price. I like to take a bottle of Buffalo Trace with me if I’m going to a football game and I’m going to be drinking for a couple hours prior, tailgating. And then maybe drinking for a few hours post game tailgating. Or, if I can get away with it, smuggling it into the game… I see a pattern. From a price performer, Buffalo Trace is your winner.

I generally avoid anything from the Jim Beam family… You have to draw the line somewhere.

That’s my take on the menu folks… again, season to take. Sample as many bourbons and whiskeys as you can until you find your “go to.” The journey to the heart of what your cocktail is will be one of the funniest journeys you ever take.

And, as the famous toast goes, “May we never regret this….”

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Travelogue: Fear And Loathing* In MSP Airport: I Meet a Bernie Sanders Fan

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*A weak homage to Hunter S. Thompson

I’ve always loved the writing of Hunter S Thompson. “Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas” was given to me by my dear friend DJ and it’s one of my all time favorites. One of the things that seems to get glossed over these days is the brilliant political writing he did. “Fear And Loathing On the Campaign Trail ’72” is a fascinating read. Of course, I’ve always been a little obsessed with that era of American history. Not only did Hunter write his book in ’72, published serially in Rolling Stone magazine, but he came up with the idea for Tim Crouse’s “The Boys On the Bus” detailing the press’s and the campaign’s symbiotic (and at times ethically challenged) relationship. Apparently, early on in the ’72 campaign, cigarette holder clinched between his teeth, Thompson said to Crouse, while pointing at the pack of reporters, “Those are the bastards you really oughta be watching…” True words indeed…

Despite my enjoyment of Hunter’s political writings, I’m not a political person per se. I enjoyed reading his books because of the historical perspective that it gave me, however warped that perspective may have been. I try to never discuss politics unless “I’m talking a little treason” amongst likeminded friends at the pub. I like the words of Little Steven’s song, “I Am A Patriot” in regards to my view on politics:

I ain’t no communist
And I ain’t no capitalist
And I ain’t no socialist
And I ain’t no imperialist
And I ain’t no democrat
And I ain’t no republican
I only know one party
And it is freedom

Needless to say BourbonAndVinyl won’t be endorsing any candidates. I certainly would never ever talk about politics to a stranger. And yet, this being an election year, politics is on everybody’s mind. It’s hard to avoid a political discussion even in the oddest places… say, in a tavern on a concourse of the Minneapolis-St Paul Airport on a cold February evening. And while it’s not exactly a political story… in honor of Dr Gonzo, I must share. And I will say, as a disclaimer, I admire Mr Sanders and this is in no way meant to be derogatory toward him or his followers. I just thought it was a good story and weird things continue to happen to me…


I’ve always considered Minneapolis a gem of a city, since the first time I visited there a decade ago. The downtown has a lot of great nightlife and restaurants. I even had a rather wild evening there where I ended up in some place called Nye’s which I thought was in Canada, but that was a different B&V post. The main problem with Minneapolis is it’s too fucking cold. I honestly don’t know how anybody lives there. I wander the downtown ant-like tunnels and walkways to avoid going outside, still shivering, surrounded by Nordic types who seem oblivious to the cold. More power to them.

For reasons unclear, the team that works for me there always seem to summon me up there in the dead of winter. I never get to visit Minneapolis during their all too brief 4 day summer season, it’s always February when I get to go to Minny. It’s hard enough to fly but in winter to fly to Minneapolis means you have to peel layer after layer off when you get on the plane and then put it back on again when you land. I had spent two very cold, crazed nights in Minneapolis and was, as usual on these trips, exhausted when I got to the airport. I had been forced to again strip off layer after layer while being x-rayed and probed by the TSA people only to have to put everything back on again. I lumbered down the concourse where my gate was, looking like an extra on The Revenant set and I couldn’t help but think, after the stressful business reviews I’d attended, that perhaps a libation might ease my travel woes and warm me up. Near the Burger King, I spotted a pub and to my surprise, an open seat at the end of the bar. I went crashing through tables and people with my coats, bags and winter gear to claim the open seat.

“Is this seat open?” I asked. The bartender and the rumpled woman in the next seat seemed all too eager to both say in unison, “No, sit down.” I ordered a bourbon from the harried bartender and covertly glanced at the woman to my right. Her hair was a long, tangled mess. She couldn’t be local because she was only wearing a t-shirt that was belted at the waist with what looked like rope. Her arms were pasty with blotches of sunburn. Her wrists had too many bracelets to count. I thought perhaps she was somebody coming home from a vacation or perhaps a hippy escaped from her commune. In front of her sat a extra large screwdriver with an extra shot of vodka on the side. She looked a little bleary and I didn’t really feel like talking to anybody anyway so I just sort of closed myself off. It’s like that scene in the movie Sharky’s Machine, where the black cop goes completely blank. I was doing that imitation to avoid speaking to this drunken stranger.

“Sssso are you headed home or headed ssssomplace elsssse?” the woman slurred at me. Home, I answered. “Me too, I’ve been in Phoenix… my mom is sick. I was staying at my brother’s house.” Now that she had played her sick mom card I had to come out of my Sharky’s Machine zen place of detachment and at least talk with her. I could tell she was hammered. “I got stoned with my niece, I’m the cool art teacher aunt.” Sure, lady, sure.

The TV was tuned into CNN and suddenly beady-eyed candidate Scott Walker was on the screen. My bar mate became extremely agitated…I guess because she was a teacher and Gov Walker had done a lot to destroy the teacher’s union in Wisconsin. “This fucker is the devil…” she exclaimed loudly. When I saw the rest of the bar turn toward her, I considered egging her on but returned to my zen quiet place. “Who are you  gonna vote for?” she asked me suddenly. Geez lady, why not ask me if I go to church or if I masturbate? “Uh, I don’t talk about politics, ever…” I had hoped that response would shut her down. But after slamming her vodka shot, finishing her screwdriver and quickly ordering another, she asked me again. Suddenly I found myself trapped in a conversational loop that didn’t appear to have an end – she’d ask who I was voting for and I’d decline to answer. It was like that comedy routine, “who’s on first?”

“You remind me of my brother…I bet you’re a Republican.” I was dressed in a suit and tie and looked like an off-duty narcotics agent, I could see where I might give off that vibe, but again I declined to give her a definitive answer. My politics are more “fluid.” “You remind me of my brother she repeated.” At least she’d stopped asking me who I was going to vote for. I hadn’t asked her but suddenly she volunteered, “I feel the Bern. I’m 100% behind Bernie Sanders and I say fuck anybody who isn’t.” She was significantly more agitated and in order to deal with her, I quickly ordered another bourbon. I was wondering when the jack booted thugs in airport security were going to burst into the bar and club her into submission. I only hoped I wouldn’t be collateral damage. She ordered another large screwdriver but said she’d settle for a shot of vodka… the elderly bartender gave her a glass of orange juice and said, “Sweety, I think you’ve had enough.” Wow, here was something I’d never seen before, a person cut off in an airport bar. It’s like a crack dealer turning down a junkie with money. You just never expect to see that.

Being cut off seemed to jar her back to reality briefly. She started asking every 2 minutes, what time it was. Her flight was in another ninety minutes and she had to get back to Green Bay. When I looked at my watch the third time, to verify that only 2 minutes had passed since her last asking me, she noticed my wedding ring. “So, you’re married?” Uh, yes. “I am too, but I have to tell you, I’m very attracted to you…” Uh, oh this was getting weirder. I’ve been married a long time… nobody had seriously worked me for ages. I went back to my zen place of blankness. I didn’t respond at all. I sipped my bourbon and wished they allowed smoking in this bar, even though I don’t smoke. Now seemed like a good time to start.

“Yes, I’m very attracted to you. You remind me of my brother.” I had to pause and consider that sentence for a while… Before I could truly digest her simultaneous attraction to her brother and me, she leaned in and conspiratorially whispered, “Do you think there’s a unisex bathroom around here… we could lock the door.”

Um… no.

I wasn’t sure what kind of incestuous fantasy this vodka crazed socialist was working on, but I’m happily devoted to the Rock Chick… I was having none of this. Maybe my suit made her consider me “the man” and she wanted me to “stick it to her” in a literal way. I considered saying, “I’m flattered” but by this time she had a death grip on my forearm and I was wondering how I’d explain getting into a fist fight with an art teacher in the MSP airport to the authorities.

Thankfully, the bartender, who had been intently listening to all of this, likely with the idea he was going to have to restrain this woman at some point, set another bourbon in front of me, it was apparently gratis, and gave the socialist art teacher her bill. Jumping on his train of thought, I said, “Quick, you must get to your gate, it’s almost flight time…” despite the fact that only a few additional minutes had passed and this woman had another 70 minutes until flight. It seemed the appropriate time to motivate her movement.

As she staggered slowly away, she turned to say good bye and I whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll never vote for Trump…” It was the most I’d said publicly about politics in years but I felt she’d earned it. I don’t begrudge anyone their politics and I admired her devotion to Bernie Sanders but I just wasn’t going to talk politics with her in an airport bar. I certainly wasn’t going to join her in the bathroom either, but that goes without saying. And off she staggered, a tangle of scarves, coats, and luggage. I’ll never know if she made it home alive or not. I just thank God she didn’t locate a unisex bathroom…

It did turns out the bartender, who had been highly entertained by the entire exchange, did charge me for that last bourbon. Oh well, it was worth it to get her out of there…

Cheers!

BourbonAndVinyl Eclectic Summer/Sun/Beach Playlist

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“Summer, summer, summer, it turns me upside down…” The Cars, “Magic”

Ah, summer…. when I was kid it held so much promise. It could never arrive fast enough especially when I was in school as it signaled the end of the term. “School’s out for summer!” as Alice Cooper so famously sang. And, along with taking forever to arrive, summer was always like a great party, it always ended too soon.

When summer arrived girls started wearing short-shorts, cut-off shorts and even better, bikinis. It was all tan skin, buttery lotion and slick bronzing oil. It was like Earth had transformed into Eden. You had all summer to sleep late, play outside and best of all – go to the pool and see the aforementioned girls in their bikinis. By middle school, the public pool had become “lame” and the goal was to find the private pool or apartment complex pool where the pretty girls were all hanging out like Sirens from Greek mythology luring me toward sweet destruction. Unlocking the mystery of where the pretty girls were led to all sorts of untoward treasure. Someone always had a radio or a “boom box” and music would be blasting. I can remember standing in a pool with a beer in my hand with a bronzed beauty draped over my back and Van Halen’s “Diver Down” blaring…Sorry, the rest of that story has been redacted out of respect for the guilty, including me. Let’s just say I’m glad I was waste-deep in cold water.

Even later when I started mowing lawns and doing light construction work during the summer, you still had summer nights to look forward to, “drinking beer in soft summer rain,” if you will. And while those outside jobs were dirty, hot and arduous, at least it was an honest day’s work. Working outside had the advantage of earning money while getting tan. Nobody on a job site was using sun screen in my day, which was likely a mistake in retrospect. After work and a quick shower, it was out to some patio bar, where all the women were in short skirts and the beer was cold as ice.

Of course nowadays, my corporate overlords have taken a bit of the luster off of summer. There is no longer a beautiful two month summer break. At the end of a long hot summer day, I emerge from my air conditioned office pasty, looking like an extra from “The Walking Dead,” a corporate zombie. I wish I lived in Europe where everybody takes August off, but it wasn’t in the cards. One thing I can still do is head down to the neighborhood pool on Saturday or Sunday and relive those glory days of summer, basking in the burning sun. Although now that I’m an adult, living in a neighborhood surrounded by families, I have to suffer the presence of small children. Not that there’s anything wrong with loud, screaming, thrashing little kids but… “I just sort of feel better when they’re not around…”  The only remedy I have been able to find is my headphones. I slip the headphones on and hit the volume on my iPod and suddenly I’m back in that illicit apartment pool, surrounded by memories and ghosts alike…the workaday week slipping slowly off my shoulders…

As time has passed, I started to gravitate toward certain songs to listen to on sunny, summer days. I even listen to them when I’m lucky enough to occasionally vacation on a beach. The beach is like permanent summer. I finally decided to put these tunes all together on one playlist and shuffle through them. It’s about a 2 hour playlist so I know that half way through, it’s time to roll over and get a little sun on my back. Now, I’ll be the first to admit, the Rock Chick is the ultimate creator of playlists. I used to make “mix tapes” back in the day with the focus of John Cusack in the movie “High Fidelity,” and I truly believe it’s an art form. I curated the shit out of those mix tapes. But with the advent of MP3 players, the playlists can get longer and I can indulge my bizarre, ever expanding eclectic tastes. The Rock Chick always has laser focus on her playlists – her alternative rock playlist is always requested at any party we have and invariably someone stumbles up to me to ask me, “what song is this, this is awesome…” When I put on my playlists, typically someone asks for the Rock Chick’s music. She beats me at Scrabble too, and I’m supposedly the wordsmith in the family…such is life. My Summer/Sun Playlist is more of a headphones experience than something to put on the loud speaker for a pool party. This is for escape, typically from the McKean triplets (monsters, I assure you, and I know they pee in the pool), but I digress. As usual with my playlists I go from loud to quiet, rock to reggae. I’m all over the board. But with my headphones on and a beautiful Citron vodka and lemonade secured in my hand, the music takes me right where I wanna go…. So with all that in mind, here is the BourbonAndVinyl Summer/Sun Playlist (in no particular order, and I alway hit shuffle anyway):

  1. The Doors, “Waiting For the Sun” – trippy rock
  2. Steely Dan, “Blues Beach” – “drinking at the Manatee Bar…”
  3. Neil Young, “Sunny Inside” – I still love the Blue Notes
  4. Beck, “Girl” – “my summer girl…” takes me back to high school
  5. Bob Dylan, “Summer Days” – “I’m standing on a chair making a toast to the King”
  6. Kid Rock, “All Summer Long” – Lynyrd Skynyrd meets Warren Zevon meets Bob Seger
  7. Oasis, “Turn Up the Sun” – excellent late period Oasis, sadly ignored
  8. The Cult, “Sun King” – “I’m a sun king baby, won’t you share my throne?”
  9. The Faces, “Behind The Sun (Outtake) – excellent outtake from last year’s box set
  10. Bob Seger, “Sunspot Baby” – the classic detective mystery of a woman who steals your credit card and hops from vacation spot to vacation spot. Why he chooses to follow her instead of canceling the credit card is the real mystery. Great riff, though.
  11. John Mellencamp, “Summer of Love” – “it’s the summer of love, least ways, I’m hoping it is”
  12. The Cars, “Magic” – “summer, summer, summer, it turns me upside down”
  13. The Dirty Heads, “Cabin By the Sea” – a little something for you herbal enthusiasts
  14. Zwan, “El Sol” – “a little sunshine, just to butter my toast,” a pop rock confection from Billy Corgan.
  15. The Rolling Stones, “Summer Romance” – Mick singing about breaking up with his summer girlfriend who apparently had to return to high school when fall term came. I think this is illegal now…
  16. Bruce Springsteen, “Girls In Their Summer Clothes” – see the aforementioned comments about cut off shorts…
  17. The Beatles, “Here Comes the Sun” – beautiful George Harrison song
  18. Eddie Vedder, “Hard Sun”- Great solo Vedder
  19. Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Behind the Sun” – classic from “Uplift Mofo Party Plan”
  20. David Lee Roth, “Goin’ Crazy” – “from the heat…” Roth may be the King of Summer
  21. The Beatles, “Good Day Sunshine” – midtempo, perfect for a lazy, sunny day
  22. Van Halen, “Ice Cream Man” – “let me cool you one time, you’ll be my regular stop,” who doesn’t like ice cream on a hot day?
  23. The Firemen, “Sun Is Shining” – excellent example of an older artist (McCartney) doing trippy, experimental music. Check out this whole excellent album, “Electric Arguments”
  24. Van Halen, “Summer Nights” – something for the Van Hagar contingent. This was supposedly written on their first jam together when Hagar was trying out for the band.
  25. Bruce Springsteen, “Seaside Bar Song” – great beach/pool song
  26. Jimi Hendrix Experience, “Long Hot Summer Night” – because Hendrix is always appropriate
  27. Van Halen, “Beautiful Girls” – “I’ve got my toes in the sand and a drink in my hand…” and aren’t beautiful girls the only reason for summer?
  28. The Kinks, “Sunny Afternoon” – “accused of drunkenness and cruelty”
  29. Cream, “Sunshine of Your Love” – what a riff for a summer day
  30. The Who, “Summertime Blues” – many have covered it but let’s face it, the Who own this song

There you have it folks. Music to drink vodka lemonades to by the pool. Slip the Beats headphones on, turn it up loud, take a long pull from your drink, and hopefully with your shades on, glance around the pool at those wonderful bodies and maybe not so wonderful bodies out there! If I missed any great summer/sun songs, please suggest additions in the Comments section, I always appreciate new ideas. Enjoy!

Cheers!

The Rock and Roll Drinking Songs iPod Playlist (for Nancy, my friend)

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One of my wife’s best friends, Nancy, passed away a couple of years ago from cancer. It was a very sad time for both my wife, me and everyone who knew Nancy. She was one of my favorite people on the planet. I like to think, even though she was my wife’s friend, that Nancy was my friend too. It was an honor to have known her. Usually you meet your wife’s friends and its a polite if distant relationship at best. That was not the case for Nancy and I. The thing that clicked for Nancy and I was her love of rock ‘n’ roll. She and I were total iPod junkies (we’ll set aside the arguments about sound quality for now, nothing sounds as good as vinyl). Well, in all honesty, we clicked over music and the fact that she loved to drink. Every time she came over to the house for a bout of drinking wine or exotic vodka cocktails, she would always have a new song to play for me. Nevermind the fact that all the songs were usually a woman singing a sad song over a piano, it was just great that she wanted to share her music with me. She came to the house one time with a tiny book crammed with suggestions for different, themed playlists. There were hundreds of them in this book. I miss her dearly, and her photograph, taken with my wife, remains on my bar to this day.

I am terrible at putting together playlists, my wife is the expert on that one. For all I know about music, my tastes vary way too much to put together a coherent playlist. I like old, new, obscure, popular, loud, quiet, party and cerebral music. I like it all. Every time we have a party my wife puts on a play list and without fail someone leans close to the speaker, shushes me and then asks, “Who is this singing, this is awesome?” When I put on a play list at a party, inevitably someone says, “Can we put on that music your wife played at the last party.” Oh, well.

However, when you start a blog entitled “Bourbon and Vinyl” it’s probably inevitable that eventually you’re going to put together a playlist of songs about drinking to listen to, well, while you’re drinking. Most rock songs about drinking fall into two categories: sad laments about the evils of drinking or angry denunciations and warnings about the evils of drinking. However, if you’ve spent as much time listening to music as I have you will eventually find those rare rock songs that celebrate the joys of having a nice cocktail. I’m talking about upbeat songs that celebrate having a good time. So, without further adieu, here is my Drinking Playlist. This one’s for you Nancy, salute!

These songs were chosen in no particular order. I list them in the order I thought of them. I like to put the iPod settings on ‘shuffle songs’ so the songs play in a different order each time I play them. Pour something strong, make sure you’ve got a designated driver and enjoy! Again, don’t drink and drive, people.

  1. AC/DC – Have a Drink On Me, “with a glass I’m pretty handy”, indeed I am.
  2. The Doors – Roadhouse Blues, “I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer…” I have to admit this song totally reminds me of college.
  3. Cream – Strange Brew. This song was recorded in the 60s so I’m not even sure it’s actually about “brew”, but it’s Cream, turn it up loud.
  4. The Rolling Stones – Pass the Wine (Sophia Loren), “Pass the wine and let’s make some love”. That Mick Jagger just knows how to live.
  5. Eric Clapton – Bottle of Red Wine. This is a great, obscure track from Eric’s first solo album produced by Delaney Bramlett. Great guitar, as you’d expect.
  6. The Eagles – Chug All Night. This nugget is off the Eagles’ first album. It’s obscure but has a great dueling guitar solos at the end.
  7. ZZ Top – Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers. We’ve got wine and liquor on the list, we needed a lusty beer drinking song. Billy Gibbons’ guitar is amazing on this song.
  8. Lynyrd Skynyrd – Whiskey Rock-a-Roller, “women, whiskey and rock ‘n’ roll is all I understand.” Oh, Ronnie Van Zant, as the Greeks used to say, “those who the Gods love die young.”
  9. Elton John – Elderberry Wine, “drunk all the time, feeling fine on elderberry wine”. I don’t even know what an elderberry is, but Elton makes it sounds great.
  10. Thin Lizzy – Whiskey in a Jar, there’s also a great version of this song by Metallica, but I went with the original.
  11. Kiss – Cold Gin. Luckily I didn’t get into music until well after the Kiss craze was over. I had friends who were in the Kiss Army and I’m pretty sure they’ve all hidden those photographs, if not out right burned them. I was never crazy about Kiss but they have a handful of songs that I do enjoy and this is one of them. Its gin and its cold. Let’s have some.
  12. Van Halen – Romeo Delight, “I’m taking whiskey to the party tonight and I’m looking for somebody to squeeze”. This describes every Saturday night I had in college. Diamond Dave at his best.
  13. AC/DC – Carry Me Home. This may be the funniest song on this list. There does seem to be a preponderance of drinking songs in the AC/DC lexicon. This one is from the old Bon Scott (RIP) days in which the protagonist is pleading with a lady at the bar to give him a place to crash. I think we’ve all been there.
  14. Foreigner – Double Vision. Title track from their second album. Great riff.
  15. Boston – Party. OK, I’ll admit this song has nothing to do with drinking, per se. But any song with lyrics like, “there’s a party and nobody cares what we’re doing there” at least has the spirit. And every good playlist should have some Boston on it.
  16. Van Halen – Bottoms Up. I think Diamond Dave is talking about a glass, but he might just be talking about a woman…either way, it just works.
  17. Scorpions – Blackout, “I had to blackout…” Not something I would advise anybody who isn’t a German rock star with a cadre of handlers, drivers and lawyers to manage this situation. But it is a monster riff.
  18. Guns n Roses – Nighttrain, “take your credit card to the liquor store”. Ah Axl, what went wrong?
  19. Green Day – Hitchin’ a Ride. Again, I’m not sure the protagonist is falling off the alcohol wagon or something more sinister. You never know with punk rock. Great song, though.
  20. AC/DC – Whiskey on the Rocks, “a double or a shot”. I prefer mine neat.
  21. Rod Stewart – Cigarettes and Alcohol. I know this is an Oasis song but Rod seems like he’d be a lot more fun to drink with. I saw Oasis and frankly the lead singer, Liam seems like a dick.
  22. Airbourne – Cheap Wine & Cheaper Woman. These guys are a poor man’s AC/DC from Australia. Something about this song just appealed to me.
  23. Rod Stewart – Legless, “I’m in the mood, I’m in the mood to get shit-faced tonight”. Now there’s something you don’t hear in a rock song every day. I am so delighted Rod started writing songs again.
  24. Sammy Hagar – Mas Tequila. Well you knew this guy was going to be on the drinking playlist. He started a tequila company.
  25. Hell Yeah – Alcohol and Ass, a song I’m proud to tell you my wife turned me onto. I laugh every time I hear this song.
  26. The Rolling Stones & Buddy Guy – Champagne and Reefer (Live), “give me champagne when I’m thirsty…” This was originally done by Muddy Waters and I was tempted to put his version on this playlist, but Buddy Guy’s guitar will melt your face off on this live version done with the Stones.

Well, there you have it, my Drinking Songs Playlist. Turn it up loud and as always, Enjoy!