Well I confess. I did take a nip or two. I cut up a large peach into small bite size bites, poured a bit of half & half over the peaches, and called it supper. Was completely out of white lightning.
@Jeff Tracy In my late teens, the group I hung with, Russ, Ted, Charlie, all still in high school, Russ & Ted being younger, I was about 17 or 18, were into imbibing in our basement. Our favorite purchase was Cobbs Creek Whiskey, at $3.49 a fifth, best bang for the buck. The local liquor house, Foremost Liquors, wouldn't sell to me, not 21, but unquestionably sold to Russ, never even "carding" him. He rode that as being quite the dapper tripper! Now & then, we'd bribe a destitute out on the sidewalk to buy for us; the clerks saw this through the big plate glass window, but sold to the guy unquestioningly. Rotgut at it's finest, note: "Cobbs Creek whiskey was once a pretty bottom rail product of the Continental Distilling Company, a subsidiary of the Publicker alcohol and chemical company. Publicker and Continental were located on Delaware Avenue–Publicker just north of the Walt Whitman bridge and Continental close to Pier 70. There’s a bit of dissonance in the image of a slow-sipping southern gentleman pulling on a bit of well-aged cask conditioned whiskey and the way the product was really generated. As this excellent site points out, both Continental and Publicker were massive industries churning out humongous quantities of alcohols, solvents and, oh yes, environmental contamination. Throughout the 1980s as Publicker slowly crumbled, the riverside site became a veritable horror shop of exploding tanks, fires, oozing barrels and tanks–sometimes causing human casualties. A fire in 1987 essentially ended production and the site was consigned to the Superfund list. Russ was known to brag, he could "chug" anything, in any amount, at any time, sober or lubricated, but "lost it" polishing a half-bottle of Tequila, a feat which quickly drove him to the large trash can at the other end of the basement, where he quickly dispelled his intake. My wife heard it from upstairs (this happening a few years hence), and threw him out of the house! Here is a remarkably close image of him reminiscent of those days:
@Jeff Tracy I had no idea back then, ~ 1960, '61, that our cheap purchases were based upon a dubious producer. WTH do 18 year olds know, anyway? Quite a history you have dug up, thank you. The other history, that of our shenanigans, is cloaked in humor, rather. For the record, Russ' parents blamed me for contributing to his drinking (not really true), inasmuch as I left Chicago in 1972, and had no contact with him until just recently, about 4 years ago, I learned Russ had done quite well for himself, remaining in the Chicago area all those years, having become a successful real estate broker. Evidently, he married happily, had kids, and grandkids, and gave up the lurid lifestyle many years ago. Frank
Mad Hatter: “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?” “Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. “No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “What’s the answer?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Lewis Carroll himself wrote the answer, after being badgered by people nonstop since the book's original publication. He said that, in the original book, there was no answer. To end the pain of ceaseless inquisitive fan letters, though, he went ahead and thought up an adequate response that he put in preface to later editions. Carroll's answer to why a raven is like a writing desk? "Because it can produce a few notes, tho they are very flat; and it is never put with the wrong end in front!" I'm sure your thighs are now sore from the repeated slapping they took after you read that line. Originally, it was supposed to be a little funnier than that. Carroll spelled 'never,' as 'nevar' — 'raven' spelled backwards ... sounds like Frank was here ... NEVAR !