The Washington Post

Tuesday, May 6, 2003

Raise Your Glass To Modern Drunkard
Tracking the High Life, in All Its Sloppy Glory

By Peter Carlson

The merry month of May is here, and just like clockwork the April issue of Modern Drunkard has arrived on newsstands.

This is good news, not only because Modern Drunkard is a very funny magazine but because the April issue contains the long-awaited final round of its hilarious "Dead Celebrity Drink-Off" contest with comedian/drunk Jackie Gleason facing poet/drunk Charles Bukowski in a championship drinking bout with play-by-play narration by sportscaster/drunk Howard Cosell and actor/drunk Sir Laurence Olivier.

Modern Drunkard is a magazine devoted to the history and lore, the theory and practice, the joys and pains of getting plastered, plowed, bombed, ripped, hammered and blotto. Its philosophy is aptly summed up in "Let's Go Get Drunk: Eastern Europe," a handy travel guide in the April issue:

"Alcohol is perhaps the single most effective means of bringing together people of different backgrounds, creeds and nationalities. You give me Pat Robertson, an abortionist illegal immigrant homosexual communist Jew, a case of good beer and a liter of Wild Turkey, and I'll bring you back two guys with permission to date each other's sisters."

Obviously, Modern Drunkard is not the most politically correct of publications. It's a magazine that could make MADD even madder and set virtuemonger William Bennett to sputtering over his slot machine. But if you possess an irreverent sense of humor, it's as refreshing as the first gin and tonic of spring.

In fact, Modern Drunkard would make a great Mother's Day gift, particularly if your mother is the kind of mom sports a tattoo that reads "Born to Raise Hell."

Based in Denver, Modern Drunkard began six years ago as a tiny zine and evolved last fall into a glossy national magazine with delightful full-color graphics and a circulation of about 30,000. It even comes out regularly: Each month's issue arrives about a month late.

"There are at least four marijuana magazines, but we're the only one talking about recreational drinking," says publisher-editor Frank Kelly Rich, 39, a former sci-fi novelist. "It's almost as if it's more politically correct to smoke pot than to drink."

Seeking to correct that situation, Rich created a magazine that takes a decidedly unsober view of mankind's favorite recreational drug. The April cover story on the "history of hooch" offers typically tipsy scholarship:

"30 AD: Performing his first miracle, Jesus turns water into wine at a wedding, rescuing the occasion from becoming a dull affair. Christ's entourage soon doubles.

"625 AD: Mohammed declares alcohol is evil. Europeans wonder, 'Well, what shall the Muslims do for fun?'

"711 AD: Muslims invade Europe."

And so on.

Modern Drunkard is not one of those pretentious wine mags that drone on about how some overpriced swill has "notes of blackberry and spicy oak." The only taste test it has published was a review of 40-ounce bottles of malt liquor -- "the brew from the bad part of town, the staple of gangsta and punk rockers, barrios and trailer parks."

Modern Drunkard's panel of experts found no notes of blackberry in any of those brews. Instead, they concluded that Schlitz Malt Liquor possesses a "chemical aftertaste reminiscent of burning tires" and that Magnum tastes like "a weak 9-volt battery pressed against your tongue."

Like many magazines, Modern Drunkard publishes advice articles -- stories with titles like "The Zen of Drinking Alone" and "How to Beat an Intervention" and "The Lost Art of Staggering," which contains this handy tip on the proper way to stumble drunkenly down a sidewalk:

"Warm up by weaving, bobbing, swaying. Once you're in the groove, try a pitch and add some yawing. Then get a bit drunker . . . and move on to a full-tilt reel and finally the Grand Stagger. Let the booze guide you, you are a ship, alcohol is your sail and the whole damn world is your sea."

One of my favorite features is "Sordid Tales of a Bartender in Heat," a column in which Edwin Decker, a San Diego bartender with a wild wit, recalls the highs and lows of his career in mixology. The lows include some hair-raising bar fights:

"I've been attacked with an aluminum bat at Poppy's Sports Bar, a Phillips screwdriver at Tony's, a radio antenna at Winston's, a tire iron at the Moonglow, a .38 Special at The Bacchanal, a bowling ball (yes) at Buffalo Joe's, a two-by-four at the Night Owl, a splintered pool cue at Stingers and a steel dart at Chris's Etc. Lounge."

Even the magazine's ads are entertaining. Most of them are for bars in Denver and you've gotta love a bar whose advertising slogan is "Haven't you been a good girl long enough?"

But Modern Drunkard's pièce de résistance is no doubt the "Dead Celebrity Drink-Off" series. It's like a rotisserie league fantasy drinking contest that began in the September 2002 issue with a roster of 16 deceased inebriates -- including Ernest Hemingway, W.C. Fields, Dorothy Parker, Babe Ruth and Winston Churchill -- competing for the coveted title of "Greatest Boozer of All Time." The contest works like this: Each contestant orders a round of his or her choice -- then swaps insults -- until one contestant passes out, vomits or slides under the table.

Now after eight months of liver-battering bouts, it all comes down to Gleason and Bukowski, with the betting odds at 3-2 for Gleason. I won't spoil the suspense by revealing the winner, but here's a highlight from the 12th round, in which Bukowski tries to intimidate Gleason by ordering glasses of rotgut Wild Irish Rose fortified wine for the contestants.

"Now we're on the Kool-Aid," Gleason says, contemptuously. "Where'd you learn to drink? Grade school?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Bukowski replies.

Modern Drunkard is available on your more tipsy newsstands for $4.50 a copy or by subscription for $24 for six issues from www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com