“Would you like another margarita?” the El Charro waitress inquired.
“I’ll have a Dos Equis lager, please,” I said to the waitress.
“We only have amber.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
So that evening in early May, I drank the lager three quarters the way through my massive chimichanga plate, complete with a side of rice and beans. I thought I was being reasonable, shifting from drinking an easy-flowing bowl of sugar, tequila, and lime juice to sipping on a bottle of barley, yeast, and hops. One margarita and one beer did not make me drunk, but being less than clearheaded after dinner, I gave the car keys to my more responsible wife to drive us home. Feeling more bloated and blurry than satisfied, I looked out the windshield, thinking about how superfluous that beer was. Really, after a huge margarita and during large meal, I ordered a beer? As traffic slowed for a stoplight, the vanity plate of a vehicle caught my eye: “PROV31”. Hmmm. Have to look that up.
I opened my Bible when we got back to the house and turned to Proverbs 31 to read in pertinent part, starting at 31:4:
It is not for kings to drink wine,
not for rulers to crave beer,
lest they drink and forget what has been decreed,
and deprive all the oppressed of their rights.
Let beer be for those who are perishing,
wine for those who are in anguish!
Let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.
Wow! What are the chances I’d see “PROV31” on a random vehicle that night? It continued (31:10 – 12):
A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
I reflected on these verses. I was not the king of a nation, but I was the king (of sorts, in my own mind) of my family and my wife was my queen. I recalled how a few weeks prior while enjoying a similar meal at a different restaurant in Old Town Scottsdale, I had drunk too much. My decorum filter had come off, and I was cracking myself and my son up. However my queen became rightfully annoyed. An argument ensued, and the evening ended on a low note. I recalled another instance of drinking too much beer with a friend. Somehow gun control came up, and a vibrant discussion morphed into my being obnoxious. I was no longer discussing and listening to learn; I was just being an ignorant jerk who thought he was witty. I think I damaged that relationship, and I regret that.
I contemplated Proverb’s assertion that beer and wine were for those who were perishing, in anguish, and trying to forget their poverty and misery. I questioned why I was drinking more than I should or why I was drinking alcohol at all. Was I “self-medicating” and why? Was it worth it?
Spring progressed into summer and I found myself reading about brain health, sleep health, and consciousness. Those topics wove together, and like Proverbs 31, they caused me to question the use of alcohol. From what I read, alcohol wasn’t good for my brain, it disrupted my sleep (also not good for my brain), and it certainly attacked my consciousness, the essence of my existence. Why would I want alcohol?
Then I considered advice a motivational speaker gave once at an annual meeting for an honor society called Phi Eta Sigma, of which I was president at The University of Arizona that year. He espoused the usual spiel–get involved, work hard, tell the truth, etc., but then he said he had something unusual…something maybe even controversial to share with us. He said there was one thing that was really important. If we didn’t remember anything else from the meeting, we needed to remember this: drink beer. The speaker went on to explain that while he was not promoting getting drunk, he was arguing that beer played an important part in many cultures as an introduction, an icebreaker, and something over which to bond. He explained that many ideas, businesses, relationships, and friendships all began with, “Let’s grab a beer.”
As I continued to ponder alcohol use, I also remembered a moment at a cafe in the Tuscan hill town of San Gimignano. My wife and I were getting a bite to eat when this miniature pick-up truck drove down the narrow medieval street and parked in front of the cafe. Two maintenance workers jumped out and sat at the bar. The bartender poured each of these men a small glass of red wine that they quickly consumed. Then they got back in their golfcart-like pick-up and went about their day. My wife and I both remarked how touching it was to see these two workers enjoy that brief pause and camaraderie, and with wine instead of beer no less!
I recalled an afternoon with my wife, our dogs, our son and his cousin and grandparents when we visited Chateau Montelena Winery and Rombauer Vineyards in Napa Valley. We loved the movie “Bottle Shock”, which was loosely based on the Chateau Montelena story and the Judgment of Paris that put California wine on the world stage. As to Rombauer, that had long been my favorite Chardonnay–so buttery! Further, upon the recommendation of a neighbor, I recently had read a book about Napa Valley wine history titled “Angels’ Visits: An Inquiry into the Mystery of Zinfandel”. We were not drinking Zinfandel, but having read this book about the pioneers of California wine made my visit to the area more enriching. We had a wonderful time, especially sitting on the hillside deck at Rombauer Vineyards with some of the staff after hours sipping wine, gazing between the trees into the valley, and laughing as my son Max, age eleven at the time, imitated a sommelier assessing a glass of wine.
Then there was an ice-cold mug of beer I recalled drinking after ignoring the advice of my instructor not to try snowboarding from the top of the mountain in Beaver Creek, Colorado after my first lesson. The beer was well-deserved and hit the spot as I sat by a fire pit looking up the mountain as the light faded into evening, the body heat I had generated on my descent slowly dissipated, and my pounding heart calmed. That memory reminded me of a sharing refreshing Radlers (essentially a light beer blended with lemonade) with my sister after cross-country skiing with our overzealous and competitive German relatives in Bavaria.
Okay, there were many more special moments that involved alcohol. Maybe there was a place for alcohol after all. Jesus himself drank wine, and in fact, turned water into wine for his followers to drink. Does that mean we should get drunk? No. Does that mean everyone needs to drink? No. Does it mean controlled drinking might be okay? Maybe.
In my case, as I reflected on Proverbs 31 and other sources this summer, I concluded that I was okay with drinking alcohol, provided I knew and obeyed my limits. I decided I would never again get drunk. Those days had pretty much been long gone, anyway. I also decided to reduce my alcohol consumption. Rather than automatically ordering alcohol with almost every dinner, I chose to make my drink selection more consciously, henceforth, and that resulted in my placing few alcoholic beverage orders. My reduction in alcohol consumption was aided by the fact that as I have gotten older my body often does not process alcohol very well–acid reflux, bloating, stomach ache, etc.. Setting aside concerns about brain health and proper behavior, it’s just not as enticing to drink alcohol knowing my gastrointestinal system might throw a fit.
Thus, from that date in early May when I saw the PROV31 license plate through today, near the end of August, I’ve had two beers and three glasses of wine. I had one beer at a dine-in theater in Carlsbad, California when watching “Fast & Furious 9” because, in my opinion, such a movie is best viewed with a beer. I had one beer on State Street in Santa Barbara to balance out spices in a Thai dinner. To complement my manicotti, I had two small glasses of a watery red table wine from a half carafe that I shared with my wife at Jay’s Gourmet, our go to casual American-Italian joint in Carlsbad that is not gourmet at all but always serves piping hot and satisfying dishes and is filled with memories from our many meals there over the years. Finally, I had one glass of Rombauer Chardonnay at home in Tucson, which sadly upset my GI system.
I think my typical limit in any one day should be one drink, and I’m okay with an absolute maximum of two drinks. So far I’ve done alright. Hopefully being conscious of alcohol use helps me fulfill my kingly duties, especially keeping my queen happy.
With Love,
P. Gustav Mueller, author of The Present
Relevant Links:
El Charro Cafe. Established in Tucson, Arizona, it is the nation’s oldest Mexican restaurant in continuous operation and the birthplace of the chimichanga! El Charro is one of few restaurants with permission to dry its carne seca on the rooftop. In recent years, El Charro has been a vanguard in introducing vegan and hemp dishes to its traditional Sonoran fare.
Proverbs 31. Sayings of King Lemuel.
Old Town Scottsdale, Arizona
Oxford University Study: No Amount of Drinking Alcohol is Safe for the Brain.
Keep Sharp: Build a Better Brain at Any Age, by Sanjay Gupta, MD
The Sleep Revolution: Transforming Your Life, One Night at a Time, by Arianna Huffington
San Gimignano, Tuscany, Italy
Chateau Montelena Winery, Napa Valley, California
Rombauer Vineyards, Napa Valley, California
Angels’ Visits: An Inquiry into the Mystery of Zinfandel
Beaver Creek, Colorado
Jay’s Gourmet, Carlsbad, California