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Liquor control ... a slippery foe.

Sitting inside the Whistler Brewing Company's bus-bay lounge in beautiful, downtown Function Junction, sipping a Lost Lake IPA I was puzzled by the nature of the invisible, yet obviously powerful, force field just steps away.
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Sitting inside the Whistler Brewing Company's bus-bay lounge in beautiful, downtown Function Junction, sipping a Lost Lake IPA I was puzzled by the nature of the invisible, yet obviously powerful, force field just steps away. It was a warm, even humid, Thursday afternoon and the place was, well, not exactly rockin' but packed. Groups of locals, many immediately recognizable as FJ business owners and workerbees, came and went, each celebrating something, perhaps simply the fact it was Thursday, they live in Paradise and were happy to be alive.

I kept eyeing the force field. I couldn't discern its power source, the nature of its beam or the potential deadliness of attempting to pass through it. It separated the room we were all enjoying our beverage in from a small, but inviting, patio.

All I knew for sure was it had something to do with possessing beer. I'd figured out that much when I saw a number of people slip right through it on their way in and out. Without beer, they passed unharmed; with beer... who knew. No one was brave enough to tempt fate. Management had been kind enough to erect a notice warning patrons against passing through to the patio with beer.

Turns out the force field's power source was the B.C. Liquor Control and Licensing Branch. The license they most graciously endowed upon Whistler Brewing Company allows patrons to enjoy one of WBC's craft-brewed beers inside the old bus bay, but taking beer onto the patio is verboten. No beer out here, dude.

I'm not sure exactly which of the many kinds of LCLB licenses WBC operates under; I don't care. Understanding the nuances of LCLB licenses — to say nothing of its seemingly capricious granting process — makes mastering bridge or chess seem like child's play.

For example, it wasn't that many years ago the local liquor inspector was jackbooting patrons of local restaurants holding food-primary licenses, insisting on seeing their bills to make sure they'd ordered a sufficient dollar amount of food to warrant the amount of alcohol they consumed with it.

For example, there are a number of après establishments at the base of both mountains where children can be exposed to adults drinking alcohol and gorging themselves on mountainous platters of nachos... but only until 8:00 p.m. Lord knows what effect seeing their parents drink and eat after eight might have on them.

For example, at least one dearly departed business had a license — left over from the previous operator — that allowed it to serve food, alcohol and live music. But if the contagious rhythm of the band made your feet just wanna dance, too bad. No dancing allowed under the strictures of the liquor license. Apparently, they needed something called, and I'm not making this up, a patron participation entertainment endorsement in order to let people dance. And yes, Virginia, there is a fine line between swaying under the influence of alcohol and dancing; just don't ask me to explain it.

Now just to be fair, the LCLB isn't the only actor in this danse bizarre. Local government also has to agree to many of the conditions under which grown adults can eat, drink and yes, dance. But let's face it; local governments are somewhat less intractable in the face of local demand than the provincial martinets holding the real power over where, when, how and how much you and I might enjoy spiritus fermenti or the distillates of noble cereal grains.

And yet, there is hope on the horizon. The government of British Columbia is undertaking a comprehensive review of its liquor laws in a bid to make practical reforms to the system. They'd like your input.

Here's mine.

Whatever reforms we decide to undertake, let's see if we can agree on one overarching goal: Liquor laws should help nudge our evolution towards a more mature relationship with alcohol.

While that may seem a simple statement, it actually lays waste to most of our current liquor laws, rooted as they are in the very Protestant ideology of prohibition or, at the very least, strict control. The problems with outright prohibition have been made abundantly clear in the searing light of history. Control is a more slippery foe.

Take, for example, the ubiquitous beer garden allowed under special occasion licenses. Ostensibly designed to herd drinkers into a controllable area at, say, softball games at Spruce Grove, and keep innocents from the depravity of actually having people sit among them and drink beer, the real effect of beer gardens is to increase consumption over and above what might be consumed if people could just enjoy the game and their cup of beer in the stands.

Great game, hot day, parched throat — quick Watson, to the beer garden. Pound back a cup or two and stagger back to your seat just in time to miss an amazing triple play. How much more civilized to be able to sip your beverage of choice while you watch the action unfold over an inning or two.

As another example, consider closing time. Which of these scenarios makes more sense? Under our current, controlling paradigm, all the bars in town have to close at a set time. Patrons, knowing they're going to be booted out in an hour, drink to the clock, pounding back extra, and perhaps unwanted drinks because they know the tap is about to be closed. At the magic hour, all the bars in town disgorge their drunken patrons at the same time to stagger loudly back to their hotels, get in fights over taxis and generally make nuisances of themselves.

What happens without closing time? There's no rush to order an extra drink(s) knowing you're about to be turfed. Management can make a business decision to close because there aren't enough patrons left to make it economic to stay open, or stay open because enough people are having fun and contributing to the bottom line. People come and go as their fortunes — whether monetary or amorous — interest and ability to stay awake wax and wane. There's no rush of inhumanity all hitting the streets at once. And, most probably, there's no more, and quite possibly less, stupid drinking than there is under the current system.

And why shouldn't a responsible parent be allowed to serve their child watered wine with a fine meal, thereby nurturing a more mature relationship with the fruit of the vine from a tender age?

Alcohol is a liquid. Liquids must adhere to the laws of fluid mechanics. You cannot compress liquids. Pressure applied to one area will force liquids somewhere else. Coupled with the law of unintended consequences, liquor laws are likely to do more harm than good and keep us from ever evolving toward that more mature relationship with the debil rhum.

So LCLB, tread lightly... and wisely.