Mitt Romney's pathetic admission of a one-off, "wayward" adolescent indulgence in beer (a sip, I assume, based on his statement) is less an indication of his devout Mormonism than a feeble appeal to those who still needlessly and incorrectly associate sobriety with strength of character. Never in history has someone so dry seemed so horribly wet. At any rate, the strictly sober presidents, as Timothy Egan points out, tend to be dreadful:
The last president to swear off alcohol was George W. Bush, who seems doomed to have his name forever followed by the words, “and we know how that turned out.” During his misspent youth, W. was a heavy drinker and considered quite the cutup, but was also obnoxious, smashing his car into trash cans and challenging his father to go “mano a mano.”As for the trite proposition that sustained sobriety demonstrates self-control, ought it not really to be the other way around? Alcohol can be a diligent servant, but a taxing and unforgiving master. If the delicate relationship remains firmly of the former sort, it can even be helpful. Certainly some of the great writers (whose apparatus in some cases may be conspicuously incomplete without the bottle) did much of their best work while 'under the influence', as people tend to say. "Write drunk, edit sober" were Hemingway's famous words on the subject. Though even then it's impossible to deny that the bottle contributed heavily to the bitter denouement of Ernest Hemingway's own engrossing story. But I digress...
Jimmy Carter was a teetotaler, and he earned his one-term status. Were the two connected? Can’t say. But his temperance (though he now drinks wine) was much harder on White House visitors than the White House occupant. “You’d arrive at 6 or 6:30 p.m., and the first thing you would be reminded of, in case you needed reminding, was that he and Rosalynn had removed all the liquor from the White House,” Teddy Kennedy lamented in his memoir, “True Compass.” Carter’s arid receptions give Romney something to consider. Would guests be more inclined to listen while he droned on about the European debt crisis, knowing that the presidential liquor cabinet held hope of a promising end to the evening?
It's promising, at least, to note that the needless fixation on Obama's cigarette lapses appears to have ended. (Apparently the shocking revelation that he still has the occasional smoke and can't quite quash the habit actually made news.) One can't help but wonder why anyone would actually care. Even those wishing to make the obvious but natural connection between Obama's character and his inability to kick a nicotine addiction would have to admire his candidness in the matter, and his willingness to endure the frivolous speculation about, and media vigilance for, his next trip outside for a cigarette.
(Image: "Was there a connection between Franklin Roosevelt’s fondness for drink and his accomplishments as president?" Thomas D. Mcavoy/Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images/source.)