Once upon a time, an alluring array of sparkly, jewel-toned potions such as Martinis, Manhattans, Old Fashions, Mint Juleps, and Sidecars spurred a dramatic rise in alcohol consumption in the 1950s and 1960s. Exquisitely photographed advertisements painted an irresistible picture of carefree, glamorous women and debonair men. My childhood was smack dab in the middle of this very trendy cocktail era. Although my parents weren’t regular drinkers, a select few made their way into our house as weekend and holiday indulgences.
While my dad occasionally had a beer or an Old Fashion on the rare dinner outing, my mom fancied cocktails a touch more regularly. There was usually a tall bottle of Heublein Manhattan in the freezer (liquor doesn’t freeze, so it was perfectly chilled); in the summer, my job was blending up a batch of frozen Daiquiris from a can of frozen concentrated lime something, rum, and ice creating the most exquisite glistening green granules (also kept in the big standalone freezer), and come the holidays the elegant classic chrome cocktail shaker with a handle and spout was traditionally filled with yummy bourbon eggnog.
Come Sunday, my mom would grab two glasses from their collection of cocktail and aperitif glasswares (which were noticeably smaller and more delicate than today’s varieties), a grown-up size for herself and a petite sipping size for me. She would give me a very watered-down version of what she was having, and there we sat watching TV and sipping our cocktails. I don’t remember ever feeling intoxicated from them as they were very diluted, but I do recall I loved the taste. And so it began.
As a teenager (desert kegger parties) and into adulthood, alcohol has weaved in and out of my life. Not to give you the wrong impression, I’ve had many dry spells, such as when I was pregnant and each year during the forty days of Lent, but otherwise, over the decades, it’s been ever-present. I went through a brief light beer chapter, a few cocktail stages with my childhood favorite Manhattans, and a slew of wine phases. It wasn’t at all uncommon for my husband and I to casually polish off a bottle of wine a night. At home. During the week. No special occasion. No problem.
An epiphany
While I never thought it was a serious issue, I knew I enjoyed the taste of alcohol to my detriment. I’ll chalk an epiphany up to the wisdom that comes with age and the focus on health that has accompanied writing Ageosophy: I realized I felt so much better in the mornings when I hadn’t imbibed the night before. I didn’t slog through my workouts and could hit the ground running to be more productive. Imagine that. For heaven’s sake…what took me so long? Furthermore, the less I drank, the easier it was to control my weight. Who’d a thunk?
I was pleasantly surprised that I had reached a tipping point where—most of the time—feeling better healthwise was more desirable than the taste of spirits. So, I weaned off weeknight drinks to weekends or celebratory occasions. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m not always successful, but I’m 180 degrees as I used to be. Likewise, my husband has substituted zero-alcohol beers (which, surprisingly, he enjoys) for weeknight beers and is 25 pounds lighter in the process.
Now, I’m coming across more and more information that has me rethinking even this restrained version of myself. With every new book I read or podcast I listen to—be it fitness guru, nutritionist, psychiatrist, scientist, or longevity specialist—consuming liquor of any kind is on the forbidden list and associated with words such as poison and toxic. Holy cow!
Is alcohol that bad for us?
Apparently so. I’ve been curious that the warning bells have grown louder over the past couple of years, but in researching, I think I understand why. Collectively, American’s metabolic health has reached a crisis point, with an estimated 88%-93% of the population metabolically unfit. This encompasses obesity, high blood pressure, high triglyceride levels, and out-of-balance cholesterol levels, which lead to a high risk of developing diabetes, heart disease, stroke, or all three. Excess alcohol consumption negatively impacts triglyceride levels and increases glucose, both hallmarks of metabolic syndrome.
Worse, according to the MD Anderson Cancer Center, alcohol contains ethanol, which our body breaks down into acetaldehyde, a carcinogenic that damages our DNA. When DNA is damaged, our cells don’t function correctly and can’t repair and grow…which can lead to many other serious issues, including cancerous cells.
Alcohol wreaks havoc in other ways. It hinders the absorption of vitamins and minerals (another cell wrecker), can interfere with hormonal function and balance in both men and women and dangerously alters the gut microbiome with short- and long-term consequences. In recent years, the microbiome’s critical role in our immunity, digestion, liver function, and brain health has emerged as a cornerstone of well-being—I’ve heard it referred to as our body’s poly-pharmacy—so upsetting the balance of billions of beneficial bacteria is downright detrimental.
To top it off, alcohol may impact the brain by speeding up the death of neurons, which can lead to brain atrophy and damaged brain cells, with consequences being lower cognitive function, anxiety, depression, memory problems, and possibly an increased risk of dementia. We also know that alcohol interrupts sleep, which is an often-underestimated essential tenet of health.
Hence, the deafening clanging of warning bells.
But what about…
Yes, there are barrels of examples of people who have lived for over a hundred happily drinking vodka or red wine every day of their adult lives. Our dear friend Lucille, who was like a grandmother to my husband and me, had a nip of sherry most evenings late into her high-functioning nineties. Taking care of my mom, I gave her a beer every Saturday night with pizza until she passed at the age of nearly 97.
I have a couple of thoughts.
First, some people are genetically predisposed to be fabulously healthy. They drink, smoke, eat primarily red meat and greasy french fries, and defy the odds. These are crummy examples for those of us who did not win the genetic lottery. It is what it is.
Second, we live in unprecedented, nutritionally poor times, especially in the United States. Never before has there been a convergence of highly processed foods and the simultaneous decline in the nutritional content of whole foods. Due to various reasons, including mono-cropping, soil depletion, and genetic modifications, the average US grain, vegetable, and fruit crop is far less nutritious than 60-plus years ago.
Over the last few decades, many studies point to a startling 5%-40% decrease in essential vitamins and minerals usually found in whole foods. These macronutrients—which we no longer get from our food and our bodies need to function optimally—help keep disease and cancers at bay. We know alcohol hinders the absorption of nutrients, so the same drink today could impact our health more negatively than it would have a generation ago when food was more nutrient-dense.
It’s entirely possible our grandparents had a stronger cellular foundation from a more nutrient-rich diet. This may partly explain the longevity of Blue Zones inhabitants who eat what naturally grows in their yards, free from engineering.
I have to wonder if we were in better overall health if we could better weather the occasional drink.
In the meantime
Fortunately, there are a growing number of zero-alcohol options on the market. I’ve noticed the alcohol-free section in the beer case is ballooning with hip, new entries. As I previously mentioned, my husband has become a fan-for-life of his personal favorite, Peroni 0 (naturally, it’s Italian). I also see more mocktails cropping up on menus, and I recently read about a new bar opening in downtown LA that only serves non-alcoholic beverages.
As a glass of wine was my end-of-the-day routine, I have substituted sparkling water as my ritual. I’m not yet an enthusiast of non-alcoholic wine (or I haven't come across the right one), and I’ve resisted trying the many mocktail recipes because I didn’t want to introduce unnecessary calories, but I’ve read a handful of recipes, and I think it may be fun to try them every once in a while.
But we aren’t complete teetotalers yet. Even though Andrea has significantly cut back during the week, he and our neighbor across the street meet on our porch most Friday evenings for “two fingers,” which is the amount of libation in a short tumbler. He’s a surgeon who—unbelievably—receives uber-expensive liquor as thank-you gifts, and he and Andrea enjoy sampling these extravagances while discussing the state of life. Occasionally, I’ll sip what they are having, and every once in a blue moon, we go out, and I’ll order a top-shelf craft Manhattan in a pretty cocktail glass with a tall water on the side .
Otherwise, I’m making a very concerted effort to keep alcohol on the sidelines, relegated to a once-in-a-while dip I look forward to rather than an intrinsic part of my day. I’m confident this habit will go a long way towards achieving my goal to live well, age great.