Controversy Thursday: For the Kids, a Mug of Molson

This topic brought to you [very loosely, because I am appalled that Mel Gibson's DUI is front page news; so much so that I don't even want to write about it] from a suggestion made by my faithful reader WiBber.

Maybe it's the European influence from my Canadian upbringing that causes me to say that I think the setting of a legal drinking age is moronic. I firmly believe that my ability to hold my liquor and act [relatively] responsibly while intoxicated stems directly from the fact that a) I have responsible parents who I emulate (ok, so they don't dance on stages after doing soco-lime shots with hot bartenders...but that's beside the point; I did say 'relatively') and b) I was not coerced by government-imposed limitations into associating alcohol with rebellion. I was raised on juice and milk with my meals, but once I hit my teens, if I wanted to share a cold one pool-side with my pops I was always permitted. A small glass of pinot noir during a momentous family gathering was encouraged instead of proscribed. I have always viewed alcohol in moderation as a welcome social garnishment because, where I grew up, we were not endoctrinated to think of drinking as illicit and anarchistic. We didn't pound, we savoured. We didn't gorge, we relished. Given my upbringing, by the time I got to a college, getting fall-down blotto from a keg stand just didn't appeal to me.

Believe you me, when my kids are mature adolescents I will absolutely share a frosty Sleeman's honey brown with them on a 100+ degree day like today. And I won't give two hoots that Mr. Washington (or maybe even Mr. Ottawa) mandates that I legally have to wait until they're 21. Horse-dung. I'd rather have them learn early on how to taste the grapes in their reisling than chug 4 bottles of Boone's Farm behind my back.