ALEX MARRA
Op/Ed Columnist
“What kinda store is that? ABC? They don’t have to sell me the alphabet, I already know it.”
My dad sometimes tells the story of his first encounter with the ABC stores when he and my ma first came to the Old Dominion from the Bronx back in the eighties. Such sarcastic, pun-riddled remarks are common from my dad, but at the time of its original saying, this pathetic one-liner was actually saturated with a little honesty.
He really didn’t know what the heck a store with the letters “ABC” plastered bright and big on the roof could possibly sell. A good guess would indeed be the alphabet – after all, who would ever think that a state (or commonwealth, as the great V-A prefers to be called) would be caught up in the liquor racket?
Apparently Prohibition didn’t really end in the late 1920s with the slow demise of America’s greatest gangsters. While the nation’s constitution was fixed to remedy America’s biggest mistake, not everyone was happy with the change.
Some states, like Virginia, thought that while banning alcohol outright was a little over the top (or impossible to enforce) we can still aim for the next best thing: complete and utter control over when and where alcohol is sold, to whom it can be sold and even when and where it can be consumed.
In this sense, prohibition is still alive and well in our very own backyard today.
Prohibition can also be found in the crazy “midnight rule,” whereby every college kid on this side of Cary Street better rush to the Ghetto-Eleven at Main and Harrison before it’s too late to get tonight’s cartload of 40s and PBRs.
It can also be found in Richmond’s Penny Lane Pub, where at 2 a.m. every night, no matter how much the English chap behind the bar doesn’t want to, he has to call out in that London cockney accent, “Awwlrhyt mates, put those pints down ye gullets and finish up, lads – not one bloke betta not leave a drop.”
And indeed Prohibition shows its ugly hide in the very preposterous idea that on a beautiful spring day like today a guy can’t lie down on some of Richmond’s finest green grass and sip on his Corona without fear of harassment from law enforcement agents. For some strange reason a brown bag covering the wee bottle seems to fool them, though.
Finally, Prohibition hits us hardest when we are forced to buy our Tequila from the very same jerk who prohibits us from enjoying all these would-be freedoms. I speak, of course, of none other than our friendly state government and its minions, the ABC stores.
It really is a conflict of interest, don’t you think? I mean, how can the same people who claim to want to prevent drunk driving and other alcohol-related problems be the same dudes who try to push the stuff down our throats?
Let’s face it, the ABC stores are businesses like all others. The point of all business is to make a profit. Therefore, the state finds itself in the strange position of trying to sell hard booze as much as possible and at the same time it is trying to prevent us from enjoying the fruits of that hard booze. They tell us “don’t drink and drive,” but they are the ones who supply the drink! That’s pretty messed up, man. It’s like a Catch-22 or something.
More importantly, the last time I checked, we live in a free-market society. What happened to classic American entrepreneurship and all that good stuff? What happened to 40 acres and a mule – wait, that’s something else. But really, America is supposed to be the land of the self-made businessman.
This is the place of Bill Gates and Chef Boyardee (yeah, that’s right, the guy who comes up with the idea of canned spaghetti is, after all, an American genius). This is the place where hard work and a good idea are supposed to pay off. But how can it be that place when the government corners a specific marketplace? How can it be that place when the government acts like a communist one and controls an entire industry? How can it be that place when the very government who claims to break up evil monopolies is itself a monopoly?
I’ve asked too many questions, and now I’m too dizzy to answer them, but I’m sure the point is made.
My proposal, then, is this: That the ABC stores of the world shut down and that the people of America, and especially of Virginia, and especially of VCU and its surrounding neighborhoods (especially Oregon Hill) are finally allowed to shop around for their liquor purchases.
That’s right. Is it too much to ask that I want good ol’ American business competition in the liquor market? Is it too much to ask that I want to be able to buy my Jose Cuevo from Kroger for a full 10 pesos cheaper? I don’t think it is too much to ask that I can find a place that will actually sell my mother country’s beloved alcoholic beverage grappa that will mess you up quicker than a swift kick in the face, but tastes like jet fuel and is better left for cleaning the toes. If I want to buy that stuff, I should have the option. This is America.
I’m Alex Marra, and that’s my alphabet song.
Alex Marra may be reached at marraam@vcu.edu