Tequila hombre Fred.

So today is Cinco de Mayo, the celebration of the anniversary of Mexico's victory over France in 1862. I think that's not a bad cause for celebration. After all, France helped us in the Revolution but has been a pain in our boutoques ever since. 

As John J. Miller and Mark Molesky pointed out in their book, Our Oldest Enemy: A History of America's Disastrous Relationship with France, the French were among our enemies even in World War II. "By rejecting the advice of Woodrow Wilson and insisting on crippling and humiliating reparations, France fatally undermined the fledgling German democracy and planted many of the seeds of the Second World War -- a conflict for which the French required another American rescue. Before that liberation could occur, however, American troops landing in North Africa in 1942 encountered stiff resistance from the soldiers of Vichy France. The GIs literally had to fight their way through the French to get to the Nazis."

So yay, Mexico.

My bandoliers are on back order.

When St. Patrick's Day falls, Americans think of Ireland, Irish food, and alcohol, and not in that order. When Cinco de Mayo comes around, we think about Mexico, Mexican food, and alcohol, and definitely not in that order. It's the American way. We haven't started getting drunk over Latvian Independence Day yet (November 18), but give it time.

Well, we can't get blasted on Corona this year, I guess, since the Chinese corona death virus has caused the parent company to suspend Corona brewing for now. There's always Dos Equis, Tecate, and others, and does it really matter? Tacos go down with everything.

Of course, you can cut to the chase and drink tequila. And since we're all quarantined, you can guzzle it from the bottle in your own home. Olé! If anyone gets mad because of your poor behavior, point out loudly that A) You're home, sho yer not drinkin an drivin, and B) Your only crime ish cultural appropriation, sho go to the college and get a divershity cop, Karen, and 3) Shuddup already.

Like many of us, I first encountered tequila with the lime and salt paraphernalia because someone I was drinking with decided it was time we got manly and took the express train to Hammerville. And it worked! Several shots and more beer later, I had not only arrived, I had shot past the station into Woozytown and was deposited at last in Bedspin City. "Teh Kill Ya" had a reputation for being the one drink to have when you wanted to nuke the evening, but it really was unfair. We just never did shots of gin or vodka or whiskey at the bar, any one of which would have been as deadly.

Years later I was on a press trip, a freebie granted by work in exchange for writing a 1,000-word travel article. The magazine would get invites for these all the time, and the chief would reward someone who did good work with a chance for a free-ish vacation for one. I was the lucky choice. A bunch of reporters, some of us drinking like idiots, were catered to for several days by the local travel industry. I remember one night we were treated to a dinner cruise on a local river, and on a whim I ordered a tequila on the rocks. The interns working for the travel hosts were muy impressed that someone would sip tequila; they'd only ever seen people horking it down to get their drink on fast. I'd never seen anyone drink tequila on the rocks either, actually. And it made a nice drink. But it's the only time I ever drank it that way.

So that's my story of tequila, into which you can fold any mezcal references you want because they are included as they all tasted the same to me. I never ate the worm. I've been told the worm's hallucinogenic property was kind of a myth anyway, but your experience may have been different.