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Tennessee legislators are still debating whether or not wine should be sold in grocery stores. What would Trader Joe think of this?

Tennessee legislators are still debating whether or not wine should be sold in grocery stores. What would Trader Joe think of this?

I’ve lived a lot of places, and Tennessee is the first state where I’ve encountered folks debating about whether or not we should have wine in grocery stores. Why are we even discussing this? For me, debating the merits of wine in grocery stores makes about as much sense as a debate about whether or not we should have toilet paper at gas stations. If they want to stock it, who cares?

But if you take a little time to think about it, this is a fairly serious issue. Due to previous legislation that set up the current structure, a number of mom and pop stores now depend on wine sales for their livelihood. Allowing grocery stores to sell wine would create competition that could put the mom and pop liquor stores out of business, some say.

In other words, government’s effort to fix the problem that it created in the first place is going to create more problems. Still, I have my doubts about this argument. Liquor stores will still have a monopoly on liquor sales. And the competition may force liquor stores to lower their prices and do a better job of marketing themselves to customers, which will be a good thing.

Monopolies generally aren’t good for consumers, no matter how much we may sympathize with the monopolist.

More after the jump:

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A selection of cups and mugs designed to quench the thirstiest of thirsts.

A selection of cups and mugs designed to quench the thirstiest of thirsts.

How big is too big? And how many cups of coffee, tea and water are too many? What if there is no such thing as “too big” or “too many?”

At work, only a fool allows himself or herself to be overcome with thirst. Only a gigantic selection of juices and drinks will keep even a model employee operating at 100 percent for 8 to 10 hours.

I’ve chosen a variety of cups and containers to keep my whistle permanently wet. From a half-gallon jug of coffee to a smaller mug that keeps me pumped full of herbal tea on sick days, I’m taken care of.

When I need a cold sip of water to cool my hot bod, I have a logo-engraved sippy cup that keeps my agua chilly and my thirst quenched.

Whenever I want to pull off that “too busy to talk” look, I duck out and grab a to-go cup from one of the many coffee shops sprouting up across Chattanooga. I then refill this throughout the day with the sludge they serve at work, therby appearing as if I just came back from a very, very, very important meeting.

Best of all, at any given time, any one of these cups could safely contain up to 100 percent whiskey.

What are your work drink secrets?

German drinking time

Germans like their beer in slightly larger glasses.

Germans like their beer in slightly larger glasses.

Germans love beer, and I enjoy a nice pint now and then as well. The difference is, I drink mine from a nice cold can, and they prefer it by the liter.

I was suspicious at first. What if the beer gets warm? What if it spills – that’s like $7.

But after holding the wonderful, slightly chilled hops and barley to my thirsty lips, all doubt left me and was replaced by bliss.

If you have the means to make it over the pond to visit the Krauts, I recommend Munich.

Geeks drink too

Between World of Warcraft sessions, trashing Michael Bay films in discussion forums and arguing the finer points of whether Picard or Kirk was a better captain, geeks have other pursuits too…like drinking.

Occasionally they engage in a large-scale migration to a refuge, a place of safety where they can express themselves freely – these are called conventions.

One such convention is Con Nooga, which took place this weekend at the Chattanooga Choo Choo.

At it, I had the pleasure there of watching a person of indeterminate age and gender walk around the bar, dressed as a large, white dog – a ‘furry,’ as they are called.

As other attendees gathered around to ‘pet’ the ‘dog,’ he began to tap his foot in time with the Johnny Cash impersonator who was belting out a stirring rendition of “Walk the Line.”

That’s when I realized I was in a special place, at a special time, with very special people. I suddenly had the urge to observe them, like the late, great Steve Erwin.

After spending the evening taking notes, some on paper and some mental, it struck me that alcohol is the great equalizer.

Whether a person is dressed as a Viking, a stormtrooper or a goat, everyone can agree that being drunk is fun.

By the fourth drink, the walls have come down. Attendees began to look past the costumes and see each other. In fact, a strange social phenomena occured where it was the people without costumes who began to appear out of place.

It was the guy wearing street clothes, sipping his drink in the corner at whom I couldn’t help but stare, rather than the passed-out Princess Leia on the couch.

Makeshift bars with dollar-stuffed donation buckets populated some of the luxury hotel suites, and comic book characters roamed from room to room, hugging old friends and meeting new ones.

The atmosphere was like that of a wedding reception without the parents present.

The crowd all knew what they were doing there, and they all had the same goal: fun.

Drinking contests: check.
Witty repartee: check.
Normal people: check.
Weird people: check.
Sexy ladies: check
Late night shenanigans: check.

It was like a college party, except more so – that is, if you could ignore the furries.

But there weren’t that many furries and they’re not too harmful, if you don’t think too hard about what they do behind closed doors.

Overall, I rate the Con Nooga drinking experience an 89.3.

I felt like the experience mainly catered to single people, and some of the activities required a bit too much pretending to enjoy properly.

But in the end, I enjoyed every moment, and it was clear that every attendee was having the time of their life, except the ones who were sweating through their thick woolly costumes.

Give it a try next year, if you’re in the mood for something just a tiny bit different.

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Chug-a-con-nooga

Conventions. They happen all the time, from the lawyers and accountants to the insurance and used car salesmen.

But the geeks and nerds flock to Chattanooga half a dozen times per year, colminating in Con Nooga, which is happening this weekend at the Choo Choo.

Stay tuned for updates on the drinking habits of these delightful and wonderful creatures.

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Kansas Liquor Laws Need Modernization.

Jim Puff is a Kansas entrepreneur. He has been in the grocery store business for 43 years, and owns a convenience store, a cafe, a catering company and a grocery store in Alma, Kansas.

Unfortunately, in order to invest in his businesses and provide jobs for his employees, Jim must battle Kansas liquor laws. While some of Kansas’ neighboring states permit grocery stores to sell full-strength beer, his stores must make do with reduced alcohol content beer, or 3.2% beer.

Right now, Kansas grocery stores may not sell full-strength beer. Consumers wishing to buy full-strength beer must go to a different store that is only able to sell strong beer, wine and spirits – no food items.

Ridiculous. Tennessee has a similar statute that prevents stores that are not full-on liquor stores from selling wine and spirits, although I must give lawmakers kudos for being willing to sell booze on Sunday.

The gym is one place you should never, ever drink, unless you are sneaky. 

The gym is one place you should never, ever drink, unless you are sneaky.

It would be nice if we lived in an enlightened society that allowed open alcohol consumption at McDonalds, in state parks, at NCAA football games and in government buildings, among other places.

But taxpaying citizens who want to sip on a 40 oz Icehouse while waiting in line for stamps at the Post Office are out of luck.

There must be a way for freedom-loving Americans to enjoy a beverage of their choice in a way that harms no one.

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The Super Bowl is about a lot more than the Super Bowl. More than anything, it's about drinking.

UPDATED – 2-7-11: The Packers beat the Steelers. Bookmark this post for next year.

The Super Bowl – the media tells us that it’s the biggest sports contest of the year, an event featuring the best athletes in the world in a battle of wills to the death, winner take all.

But with a pre-game show starting shortly after church that includes untold hours of celebrity worship, reminiscences, cooking, product placements and quite a bit of non-football related material, let’s be honest: watching the Super Bowl is only about football inasmuch as attending a public school is about learning. That is, tangentially.

The Super Bowl is really about is organized drinking, if it’s about anything.

Whether it takes place in a bar, in a house or on the tailgate of Ricky Bobby’s Ford F-150, adults young and old will gather together, let bygones be bygones, and watch a bunch of armor-wearing neanderthals hit the bejeezus out of each other for a few hours.

In nearly every case, this will be accompanied by an orgy of adult-beverage consumption, the likes of which the world will not see again until St. Patrick’s day.

So what’s the proper procedure? What’s appropriate to drink, and what’s inappropriate? How much should you drink? Is your house appropriate to host a party? If so, how much alcohol will you need to buy?

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The Honest Pint review

The Honest Pint, as seen by my admittedly poor cellphone camera. 

The Honest Pint, as seen by my admittedly poor cellphone camera.

As I sat Wednesday at a small corner table at The Honest Pint, listening to an Irish band while sipping on a concoction of whiskey and Coca-Cola, I leaned back and enjoyed the happy twittering of students, dreamers and young professionals around me.

The glittering chandeliers above me cast off yellow light that lent the generous wood paneling an orange glow.

And everybody looks and feels better with an orange glow.

A wooden staircase leads to a balcony that wraps around the entire room upstairs. Dart boards are available for those who like to throw elongated thumb tacks at a piece of endangered cork.

If I weren’t surrounded by obvious American stereotypes, I’d swear I was in one of Ireland’s best bars, minus the stink, the fights, the low ceilings and the ever-present dinginess prevalent in the Isle.

The drinks here are moderately priced but not overstrong. It’s the cost that sends me home instead of the drunkenness, but I don’t mind much.

You’re not just paying for the booze, after all. The pub is well-staffed by cheerful youngsters, and has a full kitchen and clean bathrooms. In fact, the whole place is clean enough to bring my mother along.

The food is hearty and fun, and the menu takes a moment to gently poke fun at the American disdain for haggis.

A few flat screens hand from the walls, but this isn’t a sports bar. There isn’t a jukebox packed with Journey, Bon Jovi and Lady Gaga.

The emphasis here is clearly and firmly on the fun and fellowship of sharing a pint with your mates, not on sitting sullenly with an eye on the TV, complaining about the terrible New Orleans Saints.

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As a close follower of business trends, I was examining a series of Federal Reserve graphs today charting the lengths and strengths of various recessions and subsequent recoveries throughout our country’s history.

Boring, I know. But something struck me in the midst of my macro-analysis:

Recent recoveries have been slow and weak, while economic recoveries in the mid-20th century were lightning-fast and vibrant.

How could this be? I’ll tell you.

Workers back then were allowed, nay encouraged, to drink at work. Employees often kept a full bar, or at the very least a bottle of single-malt openly in their offices.

“Stop me at three,” Man Men’s Don Draper cautioned his young secretary one morning, before launching into a series of Emmy Award-winning business activities.

The Golden Age of Advertising, as it was called, was not so-named because of the large piles of money they earned, but due to the golden hue of the various liquors stored in each office.

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