Have another? By Roger Vaughan 

The surgeon general cautioned the public that even light or moderate drinking is harmful.
New York Times 1-3-25

There have been a lot of scary headlines recently. The US has resigned from the Paris Agreements, a coalition of countries that promotes cohesive efforts to suppress climate chaos. Sixteen hundred convicted January 6 insurrectionists have been pardoned. Birthright citizenship has been challenged. A slew of seemingly unqualified people have been given cabinet positions in the new administration. It’s a long, ongoing list. But none of them struck quite so comprehensively at the heart of our cultural habitat as the series of articles reporting that consuming any amount of alcohol is bad for us. Verboten! First, tobacco. Now, booze? 

It started the middle of last year with the headline, HOW BAD IS DRINKING FOR YOU, REALLY? It went on, with the research increasingly convincing: ALCOHOL IS RISKIER THAN PREVIOUSLY THOUGHT; MODERATE DRINKING RAISES HEATH RISKS; ALCOHOL CARRIES NEW RISKS IN MIDDLE AGE; WHAT, EXACTLY, IS MODERATE DRINKING?, until the Surgeon General laid it on the line, suggesting a cancer warning should be printed on all alcoholic beverages. 

This is a shocking development. The consumption of alcoholic beverages in America is right up there with motherhood and apple pie as a commonality. Alongside sex, drinking is perhaps the primary indulgence of our culture that knows not religion, race, sexuality, or (unfortunately) age. There are teetotalers who don’t drink any alcohol. The Pew Research Center reports they represent 38% of the population, leaving nearly twice that many drinkers among us. 

World-wide – “Skàl! Salud! Prost! Salute!” — the alcoholic beverage business is valued at nearly $2 trillion. In the US – “Cheers!” — the business reached $2,313 billion in 2023. That’s a lot of drinks served by some 63,000 bars and clubs in our 19,500 incorporated towns and cities, in addition to what is purchased from 46,000 liquor stores and consumed at home. 

Drinking is nearly as integral a part of our culture as cell phones and guns. When is the last time you watched a movie or TV series that didn’t show some character having a drink? We toast engagements, marriages, job promotions, and we enjoy meals with wine. Watching sports we dutifully consume beer. We drink spirits to celebrate or forget, or to bury relatives and friends. 

Overindulgence is common. For way too many people the use of alcohol is a disease. There are a reported 30 million alcoholics (ages 12 and older) in the United States; roughly 10% of our population. And now the surgeon general has reported any alcohol is bad for us. That’s almost like finding out toothpaste is toxic in the long run. 

This development, the flurry of scary headlines, caused me to review my own history of drinking, which peaked in college (a long time ago). I drank too much despite the thoughtful approach to alcohol that had been practiced by my parents. They were of a generation that was thoroughly engaged in drinking. My father was probably an alcoholic, but a small-town family doctor of his stature would not have been considered so. In those days, alcoholism, which was then not yet understood to be a disease, and the lower classes were mistakenly, yet firmly linked. Middle class professionals were simply not considered alcoholics. But two drinks and my father was a goner. A struggling golfer, he always birdied the 19th hole. He had given me a miniature, two-ounce mug when I was seven years old. When my father opened a beer, he would pour a dollop into my mug. 

My parents suggested I sample liquor at home so I would know what effect it had on me. Despite undergoing such a proper orientation, I drank excessively and irresponsibly in college. I joined a fraternity of lushes and went enthusiastically along with their frequent, three-day-weekend blow outs. I was focused on skiing and drinking, sailing and drinking, and just drinking to the point my grades suffered. A dean ordered me to take a semester off. That got my attention. I returned to college with new purpose. 

Working for a big magazine in Manhattan, I was often lured into my bosses’ two-martini lunches, which caused afternoons to blur. Then I just stopped drinking for many years. Blame it on my introduction to marijuana, a more benign way (we thought, and as it turns out) to achieve an enhanced perspective. 

Over the last ten years, I started having a couple ounces of rum with a dash of orange juice before dinner. I find this habit relaxing, and I savor the taste of rum. Exploring brands from different countries has become an engaging study. The one drink has little more than a calming effect on me, and there is no morning head at all. I do this four or five evenings a week. I don’t “need” it. I don’t miss it on the days I pass.

The current Surgeon General’s report on the danger of alcohol prompted me to consider quitting altogether, but I have decided to continue my one drink program for several reasons. First of all, as a senior citizen, long term effects of anything are no longer taken as seriously. And having a rum is one of the few pleasures left. Second, the older I get the more regard I have for moderation as a useful life guide. In younger days we teased each other for being moderate. Use it up, get more! Point those skis downhill! But moderation has repeatedly proved its worth. It has outlasted the competition. Having one drink is definitely moderate behavior. For me. 

Finally, there is consistency. That involves one’s awareness of self. One two-ounce drink that proves right for me might not suit someone else. Despite what our various catalogs and manufacturing processes now frequently promise, one size does not often fit all. I just published a biography of a woman who rarely has fewer than three drinks every evening. Enthusiastic drinking has been lifelong for her. She’s 81 now and still going strong. 

Cheers! 

Roger Vaughan, a Massachusetts native, began writing, photographing, playing music, and sailing at a young age, pursuits that shaped his lifelong career. After earning a BA in English from Brown University, he worked as an editor and writer for Saturday Evening Post and Life magazines, covering major cultural events of the 1960s and 70s. His first book, The Grand Gesture (1973), launched a prolific freelance writing career. He’s written more than 20 books, including numerous biographies, films, and many videos. Since 1980, Vaughan has lived on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, where he continues his work documenting remarkable individuals and events.