go fake on the fourth
Let’s get one point clear: I’m a terrible lifeguard. Prone to distraction. Too locked up in my head to notice what’s happening in the distance. Not very good at sitting still. Sure, I can swim, but that’s only one piece of the job. I worked as an ocean lifeguard in my teens and lasted all of two weeks. A few years ago, though, I had my first save.
We were on one of our favorite beaches on Martha’s Vineyard when two boys started waving for help. I didn’t notice; my wife did. "They look like they're in trouble," she said. Rip currents were common at this particular spot, so I jumped to my feet and started toward the water. Another man was a few steps ahead of me. He threw down his beer and plunged into the waves.
Once I reached the trio out in the water, I asked how everyone was doing. The older boy assured me he was fine - his little brother needed help. The man, meanwhile, was quiet. I told the boys not to worry, assured the other adult I could handle it, then swam the struggling kid up onto an adjacent sandbar with his brother beside us.
Then we heard a weakened call. As it turned out, the other guy was their dad, and now he was in trouble. He’d turned pale. He was barely keeping his head above water. The boys were safely standing in chest-deep water, so I sprinted back. Although I executed a technically abysmal rescue, everyone survived the incident, and ever since then, I've been an advocate for non-alcoholic beers on the beach.
My introduction to fake beer came at a high school graduation party as a teen, when a group of us thought our friend's dad had bought her a keg, only to discover that this brilliant soul had actually supplied us with a cold metal barrel of O'Doul's with the label ripped off. Genius!
Years later, as I was waiting to hear back from an editor regarding the possible sale of my first novel, I bought a six-pack of Kaliber and waited out the hours in my friend Joaquim's apartment. Drinking under stress seemed like a writerly thing to do. But I also had to work later, and my father had informed me, when I’d entered the real world, that we are not cut out for professional day drinking.
Pounding four Kalibers mid-day in a blistering Manhattan studio wasn't a great idea, either, though. My stomach and I were a wreck at the end. “Gregorio,” Joaquim said when he arrived home from work, surrounded by non-alcoholic empties, “what are you doing?”
Today, thanks to a recent renaissance in non-alcoholic beers, there are much better options. A great New Yorker piece details how Athletic and other specialty non-alcoholic craft brewers pioneered new processes here in the U.S., producing varieties that taste and pour like the real thing.
On the beach, though, I'm fond of the tactile familiarity of an ice cold bottle. My personal favorite is Stella’s zero, which is nearly indistinguishable from the original, especially on a summer day, and has the added advantage of keeping you mentally and physically sharp. How am I supposed to beat my kids in the frisbee-tossing game bottle bash after several real beers? Or surf with them when the waves suddenly come up? Or, for that matter, rescue someone from a rip current?
That day on the Vineyard, when I reached the near-drowning dad and started dragging him to safety, I grew pretty tired myself. This was my own fault, as I'd forgotten everything I'd learned decades earlier and performed one of the absolute worst ocean rescues in history. Typically, the correct move, without any lifesaving equipment, would have been to turn him onto his back, loop my arm over his chest, grab him under the opposite armpit, and sidestroke with him on my hip. Maybe sing a happy tune if I had the energy - Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen would work.
Instead, I told him to grab my shoulders and swam straight in, against the current, with him breathing Bud Light vapors into the back of my head. Thankfully, we did make it, but the memory of that pale and panicked face and boozy breath has stuck with me. Since then I've instituted a personal limit on beer at the beach and performed a few more impromptu rescues.
As the 4th approaches, consider slipping a few fake beers into the cooler with the rest. The waves and music sound the same. The scene is just as relaxing, and the non-alcoholic versions are just as cold.