Wayne Gipson attending Tennessee Consolidated Coal Company Picnic.August 1974 National Archives Identifier: 412-DA-14072 Drinking from a flask is illegal in most places. Hipsters and folks that employ the logic of “it really shouldn’t be illegal so it mustn’t be illegal” might argue, as those ass hats are always wanting to argue something with broken logic. When it comes down to it, flasks are illegal with the exception of about six places in the US.1 In short, a flask is an open container. That doesn’t stop many of us. We carry one anyway; we just don’t waste a lot of mental energy rationalizing its legality. So the flask goes with us to the concert, movie theater, bus depot, company picnic, tent revival, family reunion or wherever a drink might be hard to find.2 Still, it’s an inconvenience, at best. Carrying a flask in cargo shorts or a waist band or a jacket pocket or a sock, just ain’t my style. Add to that the risk of leakage, and I usually leave mine at home. Now, let me interject one thing here before I continue. In no way am I making light of Mr. Gipson’s baby bottle with the implication that it’s his flask. I just started wondering what is a flask, and what makes a good flask? Sure there are the hip flasks we all know, but there’s also wine botas, booze books, cell phone flasks (for those wanting to tote a 1991-looking relic), binocular flask, and the BeerBelly (for those with a total lack of vanity or pride). There’s no shortage of ways to take your liquor with you. All of these are pricey, and, let’s admit it…a pain in the ass. So, when it comes right down to it, a baby bottle with a big nipple might just be the best flask of all. Easy to explain, disposable in a pinch, in ample supply in many families, and there’s no need to hide it. Well done, Mr. Gipson. Well done. Those places are Butte, Montana, the Power & Light District of Kansas City, Missouri, the Las Vegas Strip, Beale Street in Downtown Memphis, Tennessee, the Historic District of Downtown Savannah, Georgia, and the shopping district of Fredericksburg, Texas. Check out the Wikipedia article on open container laws for the details. ↩ I’ve had a good pull of bourbon at a tent revival in Dry Ridge, Kentucky. I was in high school. This about sums up the nature of my church affiliation. ↩

Wayne Gipson attending Tennessee Consolidated Coal Company Picnic.
August 1974
National Archives Identifier: 412-DA-14072

Drinking from a flask is illegal in most places. Hipsters and folks that employ the logic of “it really shouldn’t be illegal so it mustn’t be illegal” might argue, as those ass hats are always wanting to argue something with broken logic. When it comes down to it, flasks are illegal with the exception of about six places in the US.1 In short, a flask is an open container.

That doesn’t stop many of us. We carry one anyway; we just don’t waste a lot of mental energy rationalizing its legality. So the flask goes with us to the concert, movie theater, bus depot, company picnic, tent revival, family reunion or wherever a drink might be hard to find.2 Still, it’s an inconvenience, at best. Carrying a flask in cargo shorts or a waist band or a jacket pocket or a sock, just ain’t my style. Add to that the risk of leakage, and I usually leave mine at home.

Now, let me interject one thing here before I continue. In no way am I making light of Mr. Gipson’s baby bottle with the implication that it’s his flask. I just started wondering what is a flask, and what makes a good flask? Sure there are the hip flasks we all know, but there’s also wine botas, booze books, cell phone flasks (for those wanting to tote a 1991-looking relic), binocular flask, and the BeerBelly (for those with a total lack of vanity or pride). There’s no shortage of ways to take your liquor with you. All of these are pricey, and, let’s admit it…a pain in the ass.

So, when it comes right down to it, a baby bottle with a big nipple might just be the best flask of all. Easy to explain, disposable in a pinch, in ample supply in many families, and there’s no need to hide it.

Well done, Mr. Gipson. Well done.

  1. Those places are Butte, Montana, the Power & Light District of Kansas City, Missouri, the Las Vegas Strip, Beale Street in Downtown Memphis, Tennessee, the Historic District of Downtown Savannah, Georgia, and the shopping district of Fredericksburg, Texas. Check out the Wikipedia article on open container laws for the details. ↩

  2. I’ve had a good pull of bourbon at a tent revival in Dry Ridge, Kentucky. I was in high school. This about sums up the nature of my church affiliation. ↩

Mr. and Mrs. Wallace Wolf having coffee with breakfast.October 1974 National Archives Identifier: 412-DA-15851 Extra Special KDB and I have coffee with breakfast every morning. It looks nothing like this moment that Mr. and Mrs. Wolf are sharing. I have the luxury of taking early morning meetings in my underwear by teleconference with replicants three to twelve time zones away. She has to fly out the door to report to real-life skin jobs. I cook. We eat. I brew. We drink. I’ve been on a diet for over a year now in which I eat nearly the same breakfast each morning: 1 egg .5 cup of egg whites .5 cup of pinto or great northern beans (or lots of chard during the summer) Extra Special KDB gives a thumbs up to all that protein, so she has the same for breakfast. For coffee, it’s usually beans from Extracto or Ristretto, freshly ground and made in a Chemex. Her coffee goes in a travel mug with soy cream. My coffee goes in an enameled mug with heavy cream. Our 21st Century breakfast routine is a little frenetic. She’s grabbing bites of breakfast while going through her bathroom/wardrobe routine, frequently standing while she eats. I’m usually checking emails from co-workers and seeing what meeting invites have come in while I was asleep. We chat, and we’re connected, but it’s got an energy we’d both like to dump. So, we’ve just decided that it’s time to commit to one leisurely breakfast each week. It only requires a few minutes of planning the night before and rising fifteen minutes earlier than we normally do. We’re not sure which day, but we’d both like this idea. Now, if we can only get this amber light in our breakfast nook and a photographer to capture our coffee and breakfast moments… High-res

Mr. and Mrs. Wallace Wolf having coffee with breakfast.
October 1974
National Archives Identifier: 412-DA-15851

Extra Special KDB and I have coffee with breakfast every morning. It looks nothing like this moment that Mr. and Mrs. Wolf are sharing. I have the luxury of taking early morning meetings in my underwear by teleconference with replicants three to twelve time zones away. She has to fly out the door to report to real-life skin jobs.

I cook. We eat.

I brew. We drink.

I’ve been on a diet for over a year now in which I eat nearly the same breakfast each morning:

  • 1 egg
  • .5 cup of egg whites
  • .5 cup of pinto or great northern beans (or lots of chard during the summer)

Extra Special KDB gives a thumbs up to all that protein, so she has the same for breakfast. For coffee, it’s usually beans from Extracto or Ristretto, freshly ground and made in a Chemex.

Her coffee goes in a travel mug with soy cream.

My coffee goes in an enameled mug with heavy cream.

Our 21st Century breakfast routine is a little frenetic. She’s grabbing bites of breakfast while going through her bathroom/wardrobe routine, frequently standing while she eats. I’m usually checking emails from co-workers and seeing what meeting invites have come in while I was asleep. We chat, and we’re connected, but it’s got an energy we’d both like to dump.

So, we’ve just decided that it’s time to commit to one leisurely breakfast each week. It only requires a few minutes of planning the night before and rising fifteen minutes earlier than we normally do. We’re not sure which day, but we’d both like this idea.

Now, if we can only get this amber light in our breakfast nook and a photographer to capture our coffee and breakfast moments…