The age we all wait anxiously for, in the meantime sneaking Boone's Farm Strawberry Daiquiri when you think your parents aren't looking (Arbor Mist, for y'all fancy people).
I had my first wine cooler when I was 12. We were BBQing for the All-Star Game, and my parents have always been of the mind that if alcohol is a verboten item in the household, that will make it all the more enticing once we're out of the house. Before this, all they let me have were a few sips here and there, but this time I got a whole bottle all to myself.
Bartles and Jaymes, yo. Like Zima, only with more diabetes.
I felt so grown up, despite the fact that B&J's are essentially Hawaiian Punch with a thimble of booze. WHATEVER. I was classy and shit.
When I got to college, I had to rely on 21 year-old friends to buy alcohol for me. Mind you, these instances were few and far between. As a full-time college student with a part-time job, I didn't have a whole lot of money to spare for drinking binges. The money my parents were kind enough to send me for food was actually spent on food. Imagine that!
But, the day finally came when it was finally legal for me to buy my own hangover-I mean, alcohol. Here's what no one tells you, though: If you've had alcohol before 21, 21 doesn't mean shit. Sure, you can walk into Ralph's and buy your Steel Reserve your damn self (or your Colt 45. Whatever your poison), but other than that, there's not much else to it. Especially when you turn 21 in good ol' Turlock, where the night life consists of 2 bars. Wellington Station, the cool bar, and Staley's, the dive bar. Guess where I went!
(Hint: I am not cool.)
I went to Staley's not long after I turned 21 with some friends from a theater group I was in, Teatro Los Hijos del Campo (technically my dad was only a campesino for like, 2 weeks. But I didn't tell them that. Unless they read this blog. In which case, 2 weeks totally counts, guys). There, they got me moderately buzzed, but it being an entirely foreign sensation for me, I remember thinking, "WOAH. So this is what DRUNK feels like. RAD." One of the other members took me home, and he told me later that he thought I was upset because once we got in the car I went from giggly and happy to completely, dead silent. At that point my self-conscious buzz had kicked in, and I was acting all, "if I'm quiet, I can totally pass off as sober. Nevermind that I giggled at the napkin holders for five minutes". Once I got into my apartment, I was all DEFCON-1 so that I wouldn't wake Anne up, and Josh, who was visiting for the weekend. He woke up though. He told me in the morning that he could totally tell I was drunk because I was trying REALLY hard to look like I wasn't drunk. Mission failed.
There have been many, many booze-fueled funtimes since then. Like my friend Jose once told me on my 21st birthday: "It all goes downhill from here". And I am inclined to agree. Not that the birthdays that come after suck, it's just that there is no novelty anymore, at least not until I turn 55 and I get a 10% discount at Ross on Tuesdays. These days I think nothing of ordering a glass of wine at a bar, or buying a six pack of crappy beer at Food 4 Less for beer can chicken.
That novelty, I'd wager, is lost on pretty much all of the legal imbibers. We forget the awesomeness that comes with being here from the age of 21 and beyond. We take it for granted.
Today would have been Raul's 21st birthday. Today, he would have finally gone out to buy beer, would have gone out with friends (and one of his thirty-seven girlfriends) to a bar to dance, drink and just have a blast. He would have bought his first gun, that he would have been saving for over the last year so he could buy himself the best one. Bear in mind, though, that this kid had his share of alcohol well before he ever turned 18. Be that as it may, he would have felt as grown-up as the rest of us did when we signaled the bartender for the first time and asked for a drink.
Raul is not here to engage in such tomfoolery, but today is not for mourning a death. Today is for rejoicing in a life.
Today, join me in a toast. Raise your wineglass. Your beer. Your can of Old Milwaukee, or shit, even your bottle of Smirnoff Ice if you want. To a sweet kid with a great sense of humor, integrity and an unshakeable faith. He was a great guy, and would have made a great cop.
Salud.
Raul is not here to engage in such tomfoolery, but today is not for mourning a death. Today is for rejoicing in a life.
Today, join me in a toast. Raise your wineglass. Your beer. Your can of Old Milwaukee, or shit, even your bottle of Smirnoff Ice if you want. To a sweet kid with a great sense of humor, integrity and an unshakeable faith. He was a great guy, and would have made a great cop.
