Here’s to you, America

A toast to the host

A toast to the host

I’m warning you.  A beer won’t work.  What was the last thing you fixed over a beer?  The carburetor on your Camaro? (Yes I am a snob, which is why I’ve been driving a Corvair for years. It’s puce, thanks for asking.  I’m keeping her as long as she runs; I don’t care what Ralph Nader says.)

Beer is not for curing (diluting?) racism.  Beer is for college kids and battering fish. Why don’t the three of you call Vince Vaughn and strike up a game of Beirut?  It might be difficult to hear each other over his sneering wisecracks, but don’t let his charmlessness hurt your aim.  Somehow the four of you will be in a third-rate bro comedy by the end of the night.

I have an alternative.

Taste the equanimity

Taste the equanimity

Schweppes bitter lemon.   Watching all seven seasons of the West Wing taught me everything I know about filibustering and that Aaron Sorkin was obsessed with this drink.   Did a beer convince Assistant Secretary of State Albie Duncan to spin defense for President Bartlet after the debates in the 2002 election? No.

It was also Schweppes Bitter Lemon that quenched the thirst of the fictional 40-year Republican, (who began his career at the State Department during the Truman administration), when he advised President Bartlet to have patience during a military crisis.  When an American spy submarine suddenly went silent in hostile North Korean waters they needed to decide whether to notify the enemy or attempt a risky, secret rescue. SBL kept the white-haired heads of the White House cool (you know, the opposite of people who watch all 7 seasons of the West Wing).

I realize not everyone watched the West Wing.  Some people weren’t born yet or didn’t have tv’s or brains.  Maybe beer can douse this fiery race-related tension like its doused so many wet t-shirt contestants before it.  Now that I think about it, nothing brings people together like a kegstand (I’m looking at you, VP Biden.)  Plus you can’t say “Schweppesbitterlemon me”.  A beer might work, just make sure it is not warm.

Since President Obama’s parents are away, let’s round up a few more people for this meeting: 400 grimy hipsters straight out of Wburg who ironically brought their own PBRs; Marty Crane and few Ballantines; Homer Simpson with a case of Duff; Peter Griffin and some Pawtucket ales; the country Germany; the cast of Cheers (except Kirsty Allie); D12; Samuel Adams; and also Snoop Dog (he’s bringing a 40, but he prefers gin&juice).

OMG Jello shots and jungle juice on the White House lawn!

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One response to “Here’s to you, America

  1. Hasn’t PBR reached the tipping point of popularity, and therefore can no longer be thought of as ironic? Unless, of course, predictability has become ironic. Yeah, that’s probably it.

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