When I go to the supermarket, I’m one of those shoppers that actually reads the labels. I typically peruse the list of ingredients first, and then move on to check out the number of grams of fat and fiber.

I’ve never given much thought to the notion of labels on alcoholic beverages, but the gift of information would be nice. For the time being, however, the federal government continues to delay a proposal to provide consumers with basic nutrition and alcohol facts on containers of beer, wine and spirits.

“Alcoholic beverages can contribute a significant amount of calories to the diet,” said Chris Waldrop, director of the Food Policy Institute at Consumer Federation of America (CFA). “Unfortunately for consumers wanting to watch their weight, they aren’t able to turn to the label to get the information they need, like they can with other food products.”

Alcoholic beverages are the only major category of consumable products not required to be labeled with information about even their basic characteristics. According to the CFA, labeling information can serve as a tool to help reduce alcohol abuse, drunk driving, obesity, and the many diseases attributable to excessive alcohol intake.

Because there hasn’t been any government action on labeling of alcoholic beverages, the CFA released a useful chart in 2008, comparing the calorie and alcohol content of several major brands of beer, wine and distilled spirits.

“Consumers need basic information about alcohol content to help them drink in moderation as recommended by the federal government and numerous health groups,” Waldrop said. “For example, consumers need to know that a 12 ounce bottle of beer has generally the same amount of alcohol as a 5 ounce glass of wine and 1.5 ounces of distilled spirits.”

In 2007, the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau (TTB) proposed a rule to require a standardized “Alcohol Facts” panel on all beer, wine and distilled spirits products. Four years later, TTB has yet to finalize that proposal. CFA and other public interest groups have called on TTB to mandate alcohol information on a standardized label, including the serving size, number of servings per container, percentage alcohol by volume and the amount of alcohol (in fl oz) per serving, as well as calorie information. CFA has also urged TTB to require that alcoholic beverage labels contain a statement defining “moderate” drinking, derived from the U.S. Government’s Dietary Guidelines for Americans, and the definition of a standard drink.

The CFA advises consumers to remember the following:

1. It’s not what you drink, it’s how much that counts. Don’t be fooled into thinking that beer or wine is safer or less potent than the “hard stuff.” Remember, 12 ounces of beer has the same amount of alcohol as 5 ounces of wine and 1.5 ounces of distilled spirits.

2. Don’t drink on an empty stomach. Eat food while you drink and alternate water or other nonalcoholic drinks with your alcoholic beverage.

3. In many cases, alcohol and medications don’t mix. Always read the label to determine if the prescription medicine or over-the-counter drug carries a specific warning about consuming alcohol.

4. If you’re going to be drinking when you go out, plan ahead of time how you will get home. Designate a driver, have a taxi number, and money ready to pay the taxi. Whatever you do, don’t drink and drive.

5. If you are hosting a party, keep an eye out for those who may have had too much to drink and planning to drive home. If necessary, take their keys and call a taxi.

6. Whether you are a parent, family member or a friend, don’t serve to or buy alcohol for people under 21.

Photo source

By Deirdre Sinnott

Much like the Mickey Mouse Club, I too had my “Anything Can Happen” days. When I was drinking, Mickey might not have made an appearance, but other rodents did.

One of my messiest nights began at Macy’s. It was just before Christmas. Mary, a friend from a theater group I worked with, and I sweated on a long line waiting to buy a pepper grinder. This was the first simple, hand-cranking pepper mill I’d found after searching in various stores.

Mary was due to sing at the Fulton Fish Market in Manhattan. Each year the businesses at the Market set up bleachers made to resemble an isosceles triangle. Choral singers wearing green and red holiday outfits crowded the steps and formed a living, singing, Christmas tree. Mary pulled away from the checkout line. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late. You don’t want to see some naked cherub dangling off the tree do you?”

We made plans to meet after she was done singing, but once I finally purchased my pepper mill I didn’t want to go directly downtown.

Soon enough, I was elbows on a bar, drinking a shot of scotch with a beer chaser. It was the first of the evening and as the burning liquid raced down my throat, I felt like the night had endless possibilities. I agreed with the bartender that one set deserved a companion and slammed down another two drinks. Soon my Macy’s bag and I were headed downtown.

Once at the Fulton Fish Market, I followed the sounds of the chorus until I stood before the display. It was glorious. Mary was near the top, properly dressed in a pointed green felt hat, red collar, and elf-like green jacket, exactly like the rest of the singers. There was an outdoor café and I squeezed my way up to the bar, turning sideways so that I could fit between the white guys in suits that dominated the scene. I put my Macy’s bag on the bar, ordered a new shot and beer combo, and watched the tree vibrate with holiday spirit.

“Fun isn’t it?” asked one of the suits. As I sipped my scotch, I assessed him. He was sort of chubby with an unruly lock of hair that skittered around his forehead in the breeze coming off the bay. He looked like a boy dressed up for church by his mother.

“It’s not exactly my type of music,” I said. “I’m more partial to Blues than caroling.”

“You know a place?” he asked. I nodded and pitched my drink into my mouth, swallowing hard. I was ready to go. Mary was totally forgotten, secondary to an impulsive adventure. My Macy’s bag was almost forgotten too, only rescued by the quick-thinking bartender. Moments later we were in a cab heading to Dan Lynch’s on Second Avenue and Fourteenth Street.

At Dan Lynch’s I continued to indulge, putting down more drinks. When I stepped away from my stool and walked into the gloom to go the toilet, I realized that perhaps I had drunk too much. In the women’s room mirror, my pale reflection glowed blue from the fluorescent lights. I looked like the exhausted ghost of Christmas-yet-to-be.

When I got back to the bar, my suited companion was gone. “Is he in the bathroom?” I asked the bartender.

“Went the other way,” he replied, nodding toward the door. A large African-American man leaned against a barstool, surveying the action inside and giving the once-over to any new customers.

I asked him if he had seen my suit leave. He nodded. “Got into a cab,” he said.

Here is where it gets a little dicey. I can’t quite remember what I did next. I do remember the bouncer hugging me and, since I had been so unceremoniously dumped, asking me if I needed a little company. Apparently, with total willingness, I went downstairs into the office for sex. I remember a blowup mattress, already fully inflated, being thrown down on the floor. I remember, as I lay on my back hugging his solid body with my legs, seeing cases of beer and hard liquor ringing the mattress. I remember the smell of stale ale and the scratching noises of mice scurrying around the periphery. I remember begging the man on top of me not to come inside of me.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the subway traveling back to Astoria, Queens where I lived. I looked in my lap and saw the Macy’s bag. When I peeked into the box, my pepper mill was gone. I threw the bag onto the floor, much to the disgust of another passenger who loudly complained.

How could I explain myself? I opened my mouth to try, but couldn’t. Instead I sobbed.

This essay is a follow-up to Deirdre Sinnott’s well received Video Tour of a Few NYC Bars, a short, sassy “tour de glass” of her old drinking haunts. Deirdre’s work has appeared in the special nonfiction issue of the literary magazine Cadillac Cicatrix and she is a regular book reviewer for ForeWord Magazine. Her writing appears in Catskill Review of Books, World View Forum, Blue Collar Holler, Della Donna Webzine, and in two anthologies. Much more information and other stories can be found on her website www.DeirdreSinnott.com.