The Men On Your Bottle

What does it take to get your name and picture on currency? Some historical event or significance? Maybe you freed the slaves or flied a kite. Maybe you were just the first. See, getting your name and face on money is pretty hard. Getting your name or face on a liquor bottle? Just do one little obscure think to chance a minor bit of history and people will know you better than who freed the slaves. Wouldn't you like to know who these men are? They are, in fact, the reason you are able to get drunk so effortlessly. Today, let's pay a minor homage to the men who have given us courage, hope, and many good times, however artificial they may have been. These are The Men On Your Bottle.

Smirnoff
The Man: Pyotr Smirnoff (Pyotr is communist for "Peter." Knowledge is power)
The Legend: Although Pyotr was born to illiterate Russian peasants, he overcame his shortcomings to produce what is now the most popular brand of liquor in the world. He was the first to advertise alcohol using newspaper ads and paid off the Russian Church (oxymoron?) to stop giving anti-vodka speeches. In just 20 years, his brand of heaven was the most popular in Moscow and was even drunk by the Tsar (tsar is like king, only with an ugly accent). The distillery was taken over by the government from the Smirnoff family when Russian turned all commie. It is now produced in the Ukraine, one of the only countries badass enough to have a "the" in front of it.

Jack Daniels
The Man: Jack Daniel. Duh.
The Legend: At a very young age, Jack Daniel began his distillery in the most racist town name ever, Lynchburg (formerly Lynchtheblackie), Tennessee. Although the whiskey didn't catch on til after prohibition and his death, his vision has gotten an unbelievable amount of people drunk since. You see, it's all about location. Jack Daniels uses a special type of water that is only native to the Tennessee area, but nobody knows. One day, this water will run out and Jack Daniels will be an imitation of its former self. A day I hope I never see. But the man must be remembered for it is his vision that has contributed to my lack thereof.

Bacardi
The Man: Don Facundo Bacardi
The Legend: Good ol' Facundo's life was pretty unfortunate before he experimented with rum in Cuba. Cholera, earthquakes, bankruptcy, children death, and a global shortage of sugar, which would break any man or pregnant woman. See, before Sir Bacardi, rum was disgusting and a drink for low-level men like Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom. After he refined the distilling process, he organized a great ad campaign with the "Bacardi" in extra bold print, along with the now iconic bat. And all this in 1860s Cuba. As the business thrived, Cuba's nationalism movement came about but business was not to be deterred! It sold like Cuban cigars do in every country in the world besides America. Which begs the question: why can we drink Bacardi, a Cuban rum, but not smoke Cuban cigars? Balls in your court Obama. Stop trying to fix the economy and make this priority one.

Johnnie Walker
The Man: John Walker
The Legend: Born in Scotland (poor bastard), Johnnie set up his own brand of whiskey with his inheritance from his dad. He was actually just considered a grocer in Scotland who made some tasty booze. But it wasn't the disgusting scotch that some people love yet. After our boy John died, his son used his skill in blending tea into blending whiskey, thus creating scotch. In fact, Johnnie is just a glory hog. When he died, his whole stock was destroyed in a flood. His son Alex had to redo everything from scratch and built the Johnnie Walker label up to what is now. Scotch tastes icky though.

Jose Cuervo
The Man: Jose Antonio de Cuervo/Jose Cuervo Labastida
The Legend: Jose was born in Spain but later relocated to southwestern Mexico during its colonization in the 1750s. After receiving a large land plot from the King of Spain, his slaves were like "whoa, this dudes a big deal. let's get back to work on the double." He built a factory on this land and then left it to his familia, which is Spanish for "tequila." It wasn't named Jose Cuervo until around 1900, when the conveniently named Jose Cuervo Labastida, to the extreme shock of others, named it Jose Cuervo as it started to be shipped to the States. What neither man knew was how hungover their liquor makes me. And that I would mix it with tonic as bartenders wouldn't even believe that I actually wanted it. And THAT'S why I didn't tip them. HA HA!

Tanqueray
The Man: Charles Tanqueray
The Legend: Charlie was an old Brit that just wanted to put something in his tonic. Then, in 1830, he started to make his own gin. At first he wanted it to be called "nig" but then he was like "NO! Read that word backwards!" Wha-la, gin has been born. His son with the same name inherited it but it was demolished during World War II. ALL BUT ONE FACTORY THAT IS! So he moved it to the safest, secluded place that people would never look in: Scotland. Gin is for lame people. It's gross and trying to be all sophisticatedy-like. Plus, the British stink. Literally.

Dom Perignon
The Man: Dom Perignon
The Legend: The funny story of Dom was that he was a monk. He was the inventor (supposedly) of champagne in France, sometime in the 17th Century. Before him, the process of making sparkling wine was dangerous and would basically turn the bottles into bombs if not sold by winter. Then Dom's all like "Get outs my way. Boom bam boom, problem solved. Excuse me while I go sip on some of my champ and wait to become a part of drunken New Year's Eve parties and rap lyrics. Peace sucks, Dom out." And now, the rest is history. So next time you're counting down to midnight, grasping his bottle by the neck, ask yourself "Why did Dom make this lovely drink?" The answer is simple: the Benedictine monk wants you to chug until you see God. And it might be a while. So bottoms up.

Do you know these men any better than you did yesterday? I don't know. I sure as hell hope so though. It's always good to know where you came from. Or, in this case, where your hangover came from. Maybe the hills of Spain, the fields of France, or the rain soaked streets of London. It's all unimportant, really, where it came from. It's all about where it's going. In your mouth. So you don't need to toast these men next time you're drinking them, they'll be all the way down your throat soon enough. Good night!