Join Me As We Drink Like Pansies

The gin and tonic is surging in the United States. That's great, but the reasons for its surge are emasculating.

Gin got a lot of bad press during the Great Gin Craze, which was kinda like Britain's 18th-century Reefer Madness, except the problems were real. It was the kind of crisis that the jerk-offs dream about: one that begs for government intervention even though government intervention created it in the first place (cue Covid screed).

But then tonic water came along and washed away the stain. The quinine in tonic treats malaria. British officers in India drank it like dehydrated camels at an oasis. The gin and tonic got popular in India and then back in Albion.

Today, the gin and tonic is worshiped in Japan, it's trendy popular in Italy, and it seems to be taking hold everywhere. When I was behind the old Iron Curtain last month, I was pleased to find the G&T offered at every bar and shocked to realize those old Commie rubes make it better than anyone.

And now, finally, nearly 200 years after its rise as a popular drink, it's catching hold of livers throughout the United States.

Email to friends and foes alike

Are alcohol sales in America plummeting as the health-conscious toke their self-medication? Yup.

But not gin sales. Its American sales are clocking growth at 6% and forecasts don't see that changing.

Pretty soon, I'll be able to order a gin and tonic without the bartender puzzling at me like I just asked him to piss in my drink . . . a too-frequent occurrence with a drink whose name is comprised entirely of the ingredients.

But of course, America never merely adopts another's cultural artifact. We adopt . . . appropriate . . . misappropriate . . . and finally knock the shit out of it until it's unrecognizable. We're like those trans-loving Hollywoodites who adopt foreign boys then Frankenstein them until they have hair growing out of their vaginas (yeah, it's a thing).

Exhibit A: Italian espresso to the American latte.

Developing Exhibit B: British gin to craft gin, infused with everything from herbs to magnolia blossoms to watermelon rinds.

It's a bad sign, but truth be told, I like those watermelon rinds. Gin infused with botanicals is called "western style" gin, and the heck if I don't feel like a cowboy when I drink it.

The problem is, it's more like a Brokebackside Mountain cowboy.

The entire gin and tonic rise in America is tainted with this effeminacy.

One of the biggest reasons its popularity is rising? It allows guys to keep their hips slim.

Other reasons: It allows for sipping, "mindful drinking," and "savoring the mouthfeel." It also looks good on Instagram.

F' me, f' me, Brokeback me.

It's like I contentedly went to bed after an evening with my gin and tonic then woke up the next morning with a dude sleeping next to me.

But I won't let the namby-pambies take this away from me. I'm going full-on Plymouth and ordering a case of Navy Strength gin (57.15% alcohol). No taste except the juniper and no affectation: just a kick in the crotch and no regrets except the one Saturday morning.

How America fell in love with the G&T
Nostalgia for the aristocratic drawing room may have helped leaven the G&T moment. The real-life Downton Abbey makes its own gin
The World of Gin
From classic juniper-forward bottles to Greek- and Japanese-influenced craft creations, variations on the spirit are ever-expanding.
Be a dude and email this short essay to a friend. He'll buy you a drink.

Subscribe to The Daily Eudemon

Don’t miss out on the latest issues. Sign up now to get access to the library of members-only issues.
jamie@example.com
Subscribe