Growing up, my old man only gave me two hard and fast rules: don't get caught and don't ever drink anything and drive a car, or I will kill you if you don't kill yourself. And he wasn't talking about being at .099, back when .10 used to be the legal limit. He meant one swallow of beer. My dad also made me this promise: "If you're ever drunk and you need to get home, call me and I'll pick you up. No problems."