I. Fucking. Love. Gin. More than any man probably should. I mean, I love me some Jim Beam whiskey and I am rather fond of Avalanche and Spaten Optimator beers, but on a hot summer day, water isn’t even as good as a stiff Gin and Tonic. If it didn’t fuck with my balance so much, I’d fill my Camelbak up with it when I went mountain biking. My mother calls Gin “the alcoholic’s drink”. I suspect she might be right, and because of that and my affection for it I tend to avoid it for the most part. Me and Mr. Beam, we get along really well and he rarely punishes me the next day. One time, the wife and I went on a 6 month gin binge and started trying different brands and shit…we stumbled upon this cucumber-based gin called Hendricks. Lemme tell you, that shit was designed to make alcoholics out of us all and I advise you to avoid it at all costs unless you are wanting a glorious gin drink. If you do, however, find yourself in such a position, find yourself a liquor store that carries it.
Gin really gets to me. I’m drinking away feeling nothing, then suddenly my lips and tongue lose communication with one another, resulting in mushmouth. Not long after that, my brain loses communication with the rest of my mushmouth, and I end up a blathering idiot talking shit to some stranger. The real bitch about gin is that if I’m steadily drinking it, by the time I feel it in my head I am 3 sheets past 3 sheets to the wind, and it’s a total crap shoot as to whether ‘mellow drunk Autopsy IV’ or ‘who wants to go outside and fight drunk Autopsy IV’ is about to emerge. And a gin hangover? Fuck that. Very little is worse…but here we are, summer is coming and I’ve started finding myself having an occasional gin and tonic to break up the beam-gingers. It’s a vicious circle that will repeat itself on a yearly basis…summer comes…an occasional gin and tonic will turn to a few gin and tonics will turn to a few weeks of no Beam until I get tired of the headaches or I get in too many fights. At which time I’ll return to the familiar bed of Beam and Ginger.
Joe Bonamassa’s newest effort, Sloe Gin, does not beat me up like Dry Gin. It’s a heavy blues-meets-acoustic layering that was inspired by Rod Stewart’s first cd. While I imagine that listening to a Rod Stewart album seems like the type of shitty decision you make while your forehead is in the clutch of a gin drunk, I try not to question an artist’s inspiration. Especially not one as accomplished as Joe Bonamassa.