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October 12, 2006
Video of the Day, 10/12/06
The Girl and I went out on a date tonight. It’s tough to go out on a date when you’re in a long-term relationship. I suppose if we were married, and had a kid, and hired a sitter for the night, it would feel like a date, but honestly, what determines what is a date and what is simply hanging out within a few feet of each other outside the house? It’s a tough call.
One one hand, it’s all a matter of perspective, I know. Time together is time together and tonight was only a “date” because we made a point of calling it that. But we called it a date because I also realize that The Girl, like most women, feel the need every once in a while to “dress up” and “look nice” and “go somewhere that’s not Uno’s”, because women are weird. So whatever, I put up with it because I come home a lot of times to find she’s already started cooking, and that’s excellent. So yea, she wants to call it a date? I’ll call it a date.
So we’re at the restaurant and we order a bottle of wine. She looks good, and I look good, because hell, I always look good damnit. We pour over the wine list and choose one. A sauvignon blanc. It features gooseberry and grapefruits touches with a crisp finish. (I know this not due to anything but reading the label. I’m not that “Sideways” dude or nuttin’.) And it’s yummy and lasts us both the entrée and the dessert and we write down the name so we can grab it in the future.
And while drinking this particular wine, I took a moment to recognize how far I’ve come as a drinker. After all, a decade ago, my tastes weren’t so refined. I didn’t look for gooseberries, raspberries, BooBerries, or any type of beery in my wine. I looked for one thing and one thing only when it came to wine: a cheap-ass price tag. And no wine provided more drunk for the buck that good ol’ Franzia: the wine in a bag in a box.
Not sure who came up with the idea for Franzia. But at some point in the 20th century, one of more people came up with the idea of pouring liter after liter of lighter fluid into a plastic bag, affixed a spout to it, shoved it into a box, and called it a day. And college students and white-trash alike rejoiced. Yea, verily, for $10, you could have the equivalent volume of six bottles of wine in your grasp. Less than $2 a bottle. (See? That Harvard education pays off daily.)
Franzia was a mainstay in my minifridge once I was of legal age to buy liquor. Which is to say, as soon as I figured out which place wouldn’t actually card. Two boxes of Franzia would take care of the average 10-person gathering in my room. And good Lord, did it take care of us. After about two hours, people would be lying on the floor, unable to find furniture hunched in a Franzia-induced haze, saying incredulous things like, “You know, the reason this stuff’s so cheap? It’s not ‘cuz it’s bad wine…it’s because they save all that money on glass! No glass! That’s the secret!” At this point the person would often turn green and leave the room to go redistribute the Franzia into my toilet. The luckier of us would just wake up the following day wondering who’d taken a sledgehammer to our skulls the night before. Ahhh, college. How I miss ya.
And so with all that in mind, I did a little search on Franzia on Youtube and found this little gem. Brought back many things: the slurring, the ridiculous grin, the complete trashiness…but this new generation decided that the box was simply getting in the way, cut the middle man out, and now carries the bag around the way medical interns carry around saline drips. In fact, I worry that kids who have to get their stomachs pumped after drinking too much Franzia might try to shotgun the saline drip upon waking up in the ER. So come on, kids, keep the bag in the box. I have no idea why you won’t. Why the hell do you wanna look at the bag? Cuz back in my day, we didn’t enjoy that, and in fact avoided directly acknowledging the beverage we were consuming for as long as possible lest we hate ourselves even more than we already did. That’s how we rolled back in the day. You know, those olden days…before people had wireless internet connections. I know. We’re positively ancient.
My theory on this kid is that he actually has the money to buy good wine, but blew it all on rolls of paper towels. Just a theory. Look on the bottom left of the video and see if you agree.
Also, why the hell is he slapping it? Does this somehow increase the taste? Is this S+M drinking? Does he whip his Olde English 800? Use a ball-gaga instead of a screw-cap for his plastic-bottled vodka? Know what? I don’t wanna know. Forget I asked. I need a shower now.
Any Franzia stories you would like to share?
Posted by Ryan McGee at October 12, 2006 11:00 PM
Comments
I think one of my first alcoholic drinks was visiting my cousin at Indiana University while I was still in high school. It was Zima with a Jolly Rancher dropped into it. I was so cool.
I also learned that moderate amounts of alcohol turn me into a pumpkin, and I think I fell asleep around 9:45pm. OK, maybe I was not so cool.
Posted by: Lizbet at October 13, 2006 03:49 PM