Reaching a finer level of taste

One Friday night during Spring Break a couple of years ago, I went out with some friends to a bar in my hometown of Philadelphia. When I returned home that night, my dad, sitting in his reclining chair in the parlor, asked me where I had been. Without hesitation, I admitted to being at the bar. But then he asked me what I had to drink. I decided to be very honest and told him that I had a vodka tonic and some beers, to which he responded, "What kind of vodka?"\nThis question really threw me for a loop. I couldn't figure out why my dad's question wasn't, "What the hell were you doing in a bar at 19 years old?" Rather, he had a strange fixation on the brand of vodka I was drinking.\nFor my dad, alcoholic drinks lace the narrative of his life. He's been a bartender, or as my mom so lovingly calls him, a "mixologist," for over 40 years. After so many years of tending bar, it seemed fairly tedious to me that he would care so much about the brand of liquor that I was drinking. But, as it turns out, the "mix" in mixed drink is truly an art form.\nThat night, sitting on the couch in our parlor, I learned about "house" liquors. When ordering a drink, if you don't specify the brand of liquor, the bartender is going to give you the "house" brand. If "top shelf" denotes the best and most expensive liquor a bar carries, "house" booze occupies the "bottom shelf." For example, if I were to simply ask for a "vodka tonic" at a bar, I would likely get a drink with something like Snake Eyes or Banker's Club vodka. However, if I specified an "Absolut tonic" or a "Grey Goose tonic," I'd probably pay more than I would for a vodka tonic. The quality of the liquor, however, would be much higher.\nSome may think this is trivial but I think it boils down to maturity. College students have been whining for so long not to be treated like children when it comes to alcohol. We say things like "leave us alone and let us have fun" and "we can die for our country but we can't have a beer?"; yet, when it finally comes time to exercise our legal right to enjoy fine spirits, we opt for 15¢ cups of Miller Lite? Isn't it about time we showed more appreciation for an element so present in our lives? Heck, if people were pickier about what they drink, patrons might actually be able to see the floor at places like the Bluebird.\nIn the art world, connoisseurship demands an individual to look at a work as an art object, what some might call "art for art's sake." Admiring the intrinsic value of something and investing yourself in it can be incredibly satisfying. I see no reason why art connoisseurship cannot be transferred to alcohol. After all, we already have connoisseurs of fine wine.\nThe point behind connoisseurship is not to curb drunkenness but rather, to recognize beer and liquor for the wonderful things they are. Acquiring a palate for fine alcoholic libations is a source of pride for many and rightly so. Whether you're at a business dinner or on a romantic date, specifying your alcohol preference displays sophistication and confidence. That's not just admirable, that's downright sexy.\nSimply saying things like "I'll have a beer" or "Gimme a rum and coke" are emblems of mediocrity. I don't know about you, but the older I get, quality becomes ever more important than quantity.