Drink Up! …Or Not

My household is now under martial law. As of last night, we are out of beer.

When we moved into this little town a couple of months ago, I was introduced to one of those quirky American concepts that a decadent European such as myself can have a hard time wrapping his head around: we now live in a dry county.

What a strange feeling.

Truth be told, I do not care all that much for beer, or alcohol in general. I drink it pretty rarely, and only socially. I have an extremely low tolerance and get a slight hang-over from even just one bottle of beer. I’m just not crazy enough about the buzz for it to be worth the headache (literally) later on.

But the idea that I cannot walk into a local store and grab a six-pack of plain ol’ beer, or a bottle of wine for that matter, is baffling to me. I may not miss alcohol itself, but I do miss having the freedom to buy it. As I am sure the grocers in town would like to have the freedom to sell it to me.

On one hand, I think it’s pretty cool that a bunch of people can decide that they want to live in a place where alcohol is not freely sold and distributed among the population. Is that not akin to the kind of sentiment that brought about the American Revolution as well? It’s easy to find a little bit of something in that to really admire.

But on the other hand I am left to wonder if the people in this county know that Prohibition ended quite a while ago. Furthermore, the county line is a 20 minute drive away. There is a supermarket-size liquor store right there that sells booze in every imaginable form for ridiculously high prices. And the parking lot appears to be always packed. I am sure the local stores here in town could use some of that business. After all, as the economy sours, people may buy less gadgets or gasoline, but I am fairly certain that alcohol consumption remains its usual merry self.