I was reading an article last night about fathers and sons, and memories came flooding back of the time I took my son out for his first drink. Off we went to our local bar, which is only two blocks from the house. I got him a Miller Genuine. He didn't like it – so I drank it. Then I got him a Fosters, he didn't like it either, so I drank it. It was the same with the Coors and the Bud. By the time we got down to the Irish whiskey, I could hardly push the stroller back home.