Gary Tetz

Is it just a coincidence that on the day after the most heartbreaking defeat ever in Seattle sports, following the worst coaching decision in recorded football history, not just the Super Bowl, I choose to write about alcohol? Probably not. 

Perhaps this is what it feels like to be an administrator coming out of a brutal survey.  You’re demoralized and devastated. You know a mood-altering substance won’t solve anything, and you’re perfectly capable of moving past this moment without it. But right now, something a little stronger than valerian root tea might be entirely defensible.  

Over in Indiana, a small band of retirement community residents understands this perfectly, and they have their priorities straight. They’ve made it their life’s purpose to help exempt long-term care facilities from the burden of obtaining liquor permits, thus opening the door for whiskey dispensers in every break room and a bar at every nurses’ station. 

Long-term care environments could suddenly become the happiest places on earth. Medication aides would dispense tequila in paper cups, and employees would gather around — or perhaps lean against — the water/vodka cooler to chat about why they’re so much smarter and more competent than their thick-headed administrator.

Our little band of Indiana heroes has lined up action steps like Jell-O shooters, and they’re making good progress in this noble quest. A bill has been introduced in the state legislature, and they’ve even achieved the support of the Indiana Health Care Association. “This is a nursing home, not a nursing bar and grill,” an astute and articulate IHCA representative has been quoted as saying. 

Please understand that I’m not personally endorsing their efforts, or advocating the pernicious consumption of alcohol. And I’m certainly not selfishly using the rights and happiness of seniors to cloak my rage at a coach who would opt to pass on second down at the half-yard line with the Super Bowl on the line.

But bring out the shot glasses, Indiana. I’m on my way