Make MLK’s Birthday A Hangover Holiday

SAN DIEGO (TNA) – Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday is Jan. 21, and I, for one, am looking forward to getting drunk.

A great man like Martin Luther King, Jr., deserves to be celebrated with booze.

Now I understand that a handful of you teetotalers may judge my idea to be in bad taste. But I say it’s you that has the screw loose; so why not have a Screwdriver instead?

Case in point: All the best holidays revolve around alcohol.

What would Christmas be without rum-drenched egg nog? Or New Year’s Eve without champagne? Or St. Paddy’s Day without Guinness?

Granted, Easter isn’t associated with any particular drink. But insofar as it usually falls toward the end of Spring Break (a week-long celebration of suds), does it really need one?

Over the years, MLK’s birthday has come under fire from mostly bigots who believe the holiday was established to appease African-Americans. As a result, people may feel less inclined to celebrate it like any other holiday.

In fact, one friend turned down an invitation to my annual Courvoisier-soaked shindig because he felt the Civil Rights legend’s birthday was “too serious for that.”

And that’s just sad. As if Dr. King’s death wasn’t sad enough, now it’s affecting my friends’ drinking habits.

It’s become downright hypocritical: The same guy who refuses to guzzle cognac on Jan. 21 will undoubtedly be the first to RSVP to my annual Bob Marley birthday bash on Feb. 6. Was the great reggae singer any less of a Civil Rights pioneer? I think not.

I refuse to believe Dr. King’s demise should leave people feeling morose and glum. Rather, his death should be a call to arms for people of all colors – black, white, red, yellow and plaid – to unite as one.

And what better way to achieve that than by tying one on? A truly unifying act if ever there was one.

Now I’ve learned a thing or two from a life spent in bars. I know that country music fans hate rap; and that hip-hoppers can’t stand country music. But a man who drinks Coors has no problem calling another man who downs tequila his brother, and vice versa.

Oh, I’ve taken some heat for my annual MLK soiree – which I festively call “I Have A Drink!” Hell, I’ve even lost a few friends over the issue.

But do I care? Nah. People are just too damn sensitive.

Look, St. Paddy’s Day may be considered an “Irish holiday.” But when people of all races, backgrounds and nationalities are encouraged to drink, doesn’t that make it inclusive?

Same goes for Cinco de Mayo: It’s become more popular in the U.S. than in Mexico. And in the states it’s celebrated by all people, not just Hispanics.

The last thing I want is for MLK’s birthday to somehow become “ghetto-ized.” And if we don’t band together as a nation – and start drinking together – I’m afraid that’s precisely what could happen.

But I have a dream, a dream deeply rooted in the American Dream.

I have a dream that someday this nation will rise up and embody the true meaning of the creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all drinks are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day, on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves will sit across the table from the sons of former slave-owners…and play quarters together.

I have a dream that one day the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering under the heat of injustice, under the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of liberty and justice where the margaritas – or perhaps Long Island Iced Teas – flow freely.

I have a dream that my four young children will one day live in a nation where they are judged not by the color of their skin, but rather by how well they mix a cocktail.

Today I have a dream. But right now, I need a drink.