“Too much of anything is bad, but too much Champagne is just right.” — Mark Twain
At 16, a late bloomer by some standards, two friends and I admitted we’d never really been drunk. Wanting a quick remedy, my friend had just the fix in his mother’s garage: “Her last boss gave her a case of some French Champagne when she left last year, I think it’s getting pretty old now anyway.” Drinking premier cru champagne from coffee mugs, we spent several hours perusing our favorite periodicals and commenting on the finer aspects of this new favorite beverage. The next morning, the pile of Playboys and empty ’85 Mumm Grand Cordon bottles attested to one simple truth: people should drink more Champagne.
Marilyn Monroe holding a Coupe Glass
Carbon Steel Knives
In college I was befriended by the only true playboy I’ve ever met. Roberto Cerinni. From Orange County, with an affected accent somewhere between Naples and Brooklyn, he presented himself as a foreign exchange student.
Joe Magarac Squeezes Steel Rails between his Fingers, Courtesy of the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh
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