This article was first published November 11, 2025, at fieldethos.com.
I was raised in a conservative home and developed the belief at an early age that it was sinful to drink alcohol. I’m not sure if that’s what I was taught or if I picked up the idea on my own, but my formative years were shaped by the motto, “Don’t drink, smoke or chew. Or date girls that do.” There was plenty of teenage rebellion in my life, but underage drinking wasn’t part of it. Consequently, I’ve been designated driving pretty much since the day I got my driver’s license.
Upon my high school graduation, I entered the ministry, and I think we’d probably all agree that it’s not a good look to show up to teach a Sunday school Bible class with a hangover. demon in the bottle
About the time I decided there would be absolutely nothing wrong with me having a beer with the boys or a margarita with my fajitas, I took a second, side job counseling drug addicts and alcoholics at an inpatient, substance abuse rehabilitation facility where I listen all day long to horror stories whose origins begin with drugs and alcohol. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat behind my desk thinking that if what had happened to my patients had happened to me, I’d be drinking or using, too.
For those reasons, and with the lone exception of a sundowner to celebrate a successful safari, I have made the decision to abstain from alcohol.
I realize that stance doesn’t exactly fit with the Field Ethos brand, but it does set the stage for the story I want to tell. Plus, there might well be a reader among Field Ethos’ audience that needs some help with addiction. If so, feel free to reach out. The guys at Field Ethos have my contact information and can put you in touch. Now, on to the story.
Years ago, I won a writing contest cosponsored by a website and Blaser Firearms. The prize package included a new Blaser R8, as well as an all expense paid trip to the Blaser factory in Isny, Germany. I wish all my freelancing paid those kind of dividends. My wife couldn’t make the trip, so I took my brother with me. For four or five days, we were wined and dined by the Blaser brass. Alcohol flowed freely the whole time we were there, but never into my glass. My brother, raised in the same household as me and a minister himself, declined to partake, as well.
I knew the question would be asked eventually, but it took two dinners, a lunch and untold fizzy waters before it finally came.
“Excuse me, but I notice that you don’t drink alcohol. Can I ask why?”
Before I could explain the reasons behind my self-imposed sobriety, my brother chimed in:
“No offense guys, but it’s a well known fact that German beer is the worst on the planet.”
start of another world war, shots fired, opening volley
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