When I was about three years old, my grandparents (my dad's parents) lived in this apartment building that was very near a creek, somewhere in New Milford, New Jersey. My dad and his dad used to go fishing in that creek from time to time, but I was too young to be very interested in such things, so I only rarely joined them there (from what I remember).

On one particular occasion, they were out there fishing, and I decided to go back into the kitchen and see what was up there. There was no one else in the kitchen, though there may have been other people in the apartment, I don't recall. However, the star of this story was indeed in that kitchen, sitting well within reach of my three-year-old grasp. A large bottle of red wine!

Call me a prodigy I guess, but I was quite capable of decanting a bit of the red for myself even at that young age. And I did. A quick swig and it was gone, and so was I, off to visit my elders as they attempted to catch one or two of the population of very very very small fish that lived life on the edge in that silly little creek.

Clearly, I found that to be boring, so I left to return to the kitchen, where there were still no adults around, and no qualms, either. Another glass poured and swallowed, and another return trip outside.

The exact number of round trips has been lost to the distraction of small fish, but I've heard that I came back and forth maybe five times or so. Whatever the number, the last trip was one way, and I actually recall quite clearly (which is frightening in some way) that I decided to enter the living room of the apartment so that I could spin around endlessly, making myself dizzy and somewhat ill in the process.

Having caught their limit of fish for the day, the senior Hugo's returned from the creek (a scant 50 yards or so walking... sober) to find a young drunkard clamoring about on the floor, oblivious.

I remember the next day, when I had my very first hangover. This was an experience that left me uninterested in the evils of drink for many years, as I remember wishing to my mother that my headache would go away.

Some time in college, I forgot all about the ills of alcohol, though, and decided to take a comprehensive self-study course, making myself an ad hoc expert.