I once saw a bumper sticker that read: “I’m not a vegetarian because I love animals — it’s just that I hate plants.” That same logic, if you will, applies to why I hope this fall we get to decide on Sunday alcohol sales. It’s not that I want to buy booze on Sunday — it’s just that I dislike having someone else’s notion of religion foisted on me.
There are those who oppose taking strong drink because they believe it is contrary to living a religious life. I disagree, but one of the things that make this God-fearing nation such a wonderful place is that we are free to express our own beliefs.
Where things start breaking down is when those opposed to something, like alcohol, use laws to promulgate their faith on everyone else. Such is both an admission of their inability to make their case as well as an abridgement of the rights of all.
It could be worse. In some communities, stores aren’t allowed to sell goods until a certain time on Sunday, usually after the morning church services have concluded. Heaven forbid someone buy a socket wrench or a DVD of “The 10 Commandments” before noon.
I don’t have a dog in this fight as far as hooch is concerned; I don’t drink, which is my choice. It doesn’t have to be yours. But I am a stakeholder in personal freedom, and while I appreciate those who are concerned about the final destination of my soul, well, I don’t think that should be legislated.
The irony is that such laws don’t work. People who want to indulge on the Sabbath simply plan ahead. Then again, this isn’t really about when one can or can’t buy whatever on Sunday. It’s about intolerance. If I can’t get you to believe what I believe I’ll make it damn hard for you to exercise your beliefs.
The only thing that’s worse is when such ecclesiastical shenanigans are allowed to stay in place because of intellectual inertia. I’ve heard people complain that these Sunday restrictions make us look like a bunch of backwoods yahoos, a farcical point of view.
It is as if our whole identity is tied to being able to fetch a six-pack any day of the week. Really? If that’s the truth perhaps now might be a good time to fold the tent and whistle in the dogs. Usually such a loss of cognitive function happens after too much strong drink is taken. In this case we’ve allowed our common sense to be entangled by just a discussion.
Perhaps the best course of action, should this whole matter end up on the November ballot, is for all concerned to see if they can’t produce some sober (you should pardon the expression) cogitation on this.
If we can’t raise our consciousness above presuming to speak for the Almighty or worrying about how we may look to the outside world, well, may heaven help us all.
Jim Osterman lives in Sandy Springs. Reach him at jimosterman@rocketmail.com
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