Wine, beer or liquor, the social lubricant of life, lets us let go of the short parts that tether us to a tangled weave of “self.” We walk around sober from day to day, worried or sometimes without care, but always advancing to a momentary satisfaction. When those moments turn and face to reveal a social time when one will enjoy the company of others, one must dabble in life such as Christ and juice up a little to enjoy the exchange of thoughts, loves, hates, feelings, pasts, presents and futures. Sharing was something the Great Guy is trying to teach us and if there’s well times to have, then why shouldn’t they be had by all?

I have a greatly odd and entertaining family; they’re a cult’s worth of 60 to 20 on any given family occasion. We don’t worship, but we do listen to The Beatles. No, we’re simply following the age-old tradition of continuing a lineage through generations. I’ve known, or only been close to my mother’s side of the family, but recently I’ve retouched with my father’s blood and there’s a whole other rabbit hole to discover there as well.

There’s been a couple of losses, and in the other hand, a couple of additions. And with the wind, both are to come again. But this is only a fraction of the tail of the reason why when my family gets together, we do it big. Often times it takes an event to gather any amount of us, but when we do congregate it’s like the last supper. And tonight, it’s cousin Danny’s 24th birthday, and Uncle Jerry’s 40th-something birthday, so we dined at a nice Italian hole in Hollywood and migrated a good mile or so to Danny’s apartment for drinks and cake and ice cream afterwards. Now, I wouldn’t recommend walking at night in Hollywood, which is not the safest of places. But when joined by family, armed with Grandma and four brute cousins toasty enough for Johnny Law to scribble out a public intoxication notice, well walking suited a small group of us just fine.

Back at the comfy loft, Grandpa, Mom and Cousin Steve are all taking pictures of the coolest Aunt on the planet (the mother and sister of the awesome birthday boys) who at the moment is laying stomach down on the hardwood floor enjoying a moving Smurf toy doll that wobbles forward like a penguin once it’s wound. She’s found the toy on coming back from the bathroom and is on the floor, laying in the hallway between the toilet and the occupied living room where the rest of us were.

She yells and exclaims to all in the room, “Look at it, it moves! Dammit! I love Smurfs!”

And she does, there’s no denying that; but what followed was a couple of dirty Smurf sex jokes from Dad, as well as the implication that the living blue guy could be used as a sex toy. Yes, my family is finally in the interesting age range where every one present is of the R-rated demographic, in that any joke is safe, politics are tossed like baseballs and wine is flowing like an open faucet. As well as beer, champagne and of course last week’s 6-ounce glass of Jack.

But it’s not that we need the social wax in order to enjoy one another; don’t make that mistake with one step. In enjoying the company of those you love, one must release the cage that our mind is trapped in from Monday to Thursday, and eventually lured out again on Friday (only to be politely shoved back into the idea of the nine to five late on Sundays). Just as yoga, smoothies, rain and confessionals are releases, so is alcohol for the masses. We reveal ourselves for all to see and, as the same Aunt (who laid on the floor) told me as we all hugged and said our goodbyes, “It’s family?so f*** it. You know?” I do know, and I agree 100 percent, that in the moments you know you’ll never forget, one must say: f*** it.

But that’s my family: an odd study that would rival any sort of Osborne you see on reality TV, and this family drinks wine by the bottle or box full. . Of the greatest poisons provided to us, a drink is well served when it helps us understand the greater loves in life, and be able to appreciate them a little more. Even when it’s lying on the floor, enjoying the old relic that is the plastic movement of a living Smurf doll.

It is the water that we have to transform from our everyday costumes into the beings that is true among those that you consider to be true to you.