The Rodney Dangerfield of spirits, rum, is rarely given its fair due. In the post-Hemingway world of serious drinkers, it's either maligned as super saccharine, or pigeonholed as a beachside one-trick-pony.
This concept of what is typical or fun or acceptable is not just a societal trick. We reinforce it for ourselves, in real time, huddled around our laptops, crafting an online narrative of The Best Four Years Of Our Lives.
As a society it seems that we have, over time, come to think of drinking in terms of a dichotomy. In other words, we see the "drinking world" as divided into two categories of people: There are alcoholics, and then there are "the rest of us."
We console each other with hugs, tears and food and then pound it out at the gym to manage our stress and tame our grief. And, occasionally, we spin down a pole on a party bus while slurping Jell-O shots.
Like most of you who screw around reading stupid articles on the Internet instead of actually blazing a path towards greatness, I too yearn to reshape the world in my own image. So here is my latest idea.