The French 75

I had my first French 75 about six years ago, at this little bar and restaurant that advertised it as "gin, champagne, sugar cube, cherry." It seemed very fancy when it arrived in its little flute, the sugar cube at the bottom mixing with the alcohol to send up an in-glass fountain of teeny bubbles. It seemed so elegant that I had another, and then another, and that's about when I discovered that the drink isn't named for the address of a Parisian hotel or the number of nubile young maidens some skeezy French bartender slept with. It's named for a piece of field artillery.

And not just any piece, mind you, but a legendary 75mm killing machine from WWI. It turns out that I owe many fine nights of inebriation to Raoul Lufbery, French-American WWI fighting ace. Champagne wasn't enough of a challenge, apparently, so he made the first French 75 with cognac. Somewhere along the line it was popularized with gin. There's a vodka version, too, called the French 76, but I tend to think that most vodka drinks are second rate. Why have vodka when you can have delicious, delicious gin?

Anyway. I always have some sparkling wine on hand — usually Cristalino, a cava from Spain — because it's just about my favorite thing to drink. And Cristalino, at $7 a bottle, is dry and reliable and cheaper than your average bottle of wine or even six-pack of microbrew beer (which is just about all we have out here in the West these days, anyway). The other ingredients are gin, a sugar cube and lemon juice. Garnishes range from cherries to lemon or orange peels.

The French 75 is like having a fun, flirty lush at your party. It's a great equalizer in that it knocks everyone on their asses within about 10 minutes, leading to much more animated conversation and, at least with my group of friends, partial to full nudity and/or tambourine playing. But be careful. I would avoid certain topics while under the influence of the French 75; politics in mixed company is a bad idea, and religion is a definite no-no. Stick to endearing things, like your first really terrible sexual experience or the worst present your ever received. The French 75, like the artillery for which it is named, is all about mowing down barriers. Save the philosophical discussions for something that takes a long time to drink, like Lagavulin.

The French 75

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 sugar cube
2 ounces gin
3 ounces champagne
Lemon peel

Place the sugar cube in the bottom of a champagne flute and pour the gin and lemon juice over it. Add the champagne slowly — it can foam up like crazy and send all of the contents over the edge. Garnish with the lemon peel.

Halloween

Halloween is my favorite holiday, and not just because the slutty costume trend indulges my inherent tendency to show off my boobs. Halloween — and the rest of October, really — is when my favorite show in the whole world, Coast to Coast AM, goes batshit.

Coast to Coast AM is a radio show that may be familiar to you if you happen to be an insomniac or long-haul truck driver. I've been listening to it for about 12 years. It's now hosted by the affable George Noory, but used to be helmed by Art Bell, a gravel-voiced, chain-smoking, disappearing act of a host who now returns to do specials like Ghost to Ghost AM.

Ghost to Ghost is held every night on Halloween (in my area, the nightly show starts with a rerun at 10 p.m. and is followed by the newest show, which stretches into the wee hours). Ghost to Ghost is when the regular show abandons its usual topics — the UFO wars (go America!), chemtrails, crystal therapy, ancient giants, etc. — and focuses on the paranormal. It is AWESOME.

Aside from Art, who sounds kind of spooky anyway (and who used to be married to Ramona, who dabbled in Wicca but died of a horrible asthma attack and then Art got remarried to this nice lady from the Philippines, like, 30 days later and then he moved there and did the broadcast from the tropics but now they're going to have a kid and it is very exciting because the whole family has moved back to Parrumph, Nevada), the callers to the show are the absolute best.

People wait all year to get on Ghost to Ghost. And when they do, they usually get nervous and then Art yells at them for slowing down the show, which is pretty great. But the best thing is that Art really seems to believe all of them. Plagued by a succubus (what man doesn't think he is, really?)? Art is there for you. See red eyes staring at you from your closet? He understands. Think your child's doll is possessed by the spirit of your dead neighbor? Art has advice!

I'll be listening on Halloween, of course, but I'm also looking forward to tonight's show about ancient astronauts and 2012. Don't know what's going to happen when 2012 rolls around? Poor fool! Let me just advise you to stock up on the bottled water. Might as well start that affair or heroin habit now, too. Time's a-wastin'!