This is one of those songs that takes no liberties with the truth. It’s a song about my Dad and everything about it is as true as I know how to make it. He never heard the song, and I suppose I lament that on some level. But if I had played it for him, he might have been a little embarrassed by it. We were not raised to wear our emotions on our sleeve. We weren’t the type to say “I love you” much. The attitude was kinda “Why state the obvious?” It was a rock solid given.
I have inherited a love of beer, and a fondness for cool bars. And I do wish I could have seen the Cozy Corner. It remains a mythical place ; the stuff of childhood legend.
And although this song may seem to romanticize drinking a tad, I am grateful that I didn’t inherit the alcohol addiction that’s been common in my family. I was lucky to have dodged that bullet. And I was lucky that my Dad was a mellow drunk who happened to be the best father he could be. There was never any doubt in my mind that, drunk or sober, he would be there for me when I needed him. He had his last drink on my wedding day, and then went on to live another five years sober as a judge. (That was a little miracle right there.) So here’s to the Cozy Corner. And Lalo. And to Roderick Arbuckle Smith. May heaven have plenty of ice cold beer and no hangovers.~
Roderick Arbuckle Smith, with sons Rick, Dave, and Tony. I was only that gleam in his eye.
This is young Lalo Rios, who worked with my Dad and called him "Pelone."