When the Sun Sets the Moonshines

If my father was on Facebook, this would be his profile picuture....

Without fail, if the man is entertaining, be it in swim trunks and flip flops or a more formal affair, as was this weekend, celebrating my stepmother's birthday...

Big Dave, despite having lived years in Virginia Beach, cannot tame his inner Appalachian, and when the night grows dark, out comes Tennessee's finest - a Mason jar of moonshine.

For those of you who know a little about hootch, you've likely heard of the legendary brewer Popcorn Sutton. Somehow, Daddy still manages to get his hands on some vintage 'shine - only the best for our guests, you know. And though, for most people, it's their first taste of white whiskey, without fail they ask for a second sip.

I'm guilty of embracing this novelty when I have parties sometimes, too. Most people don't keep moonshine in their home bars, but....I suppose it's like growing up with guns. When you've always had it around, it doesn't even phase you. Unless of coures, you sip too much...

In Washington, Tennessee State Society used to host a party called When the Sun Sets the Moon Shines. Locals may have wondered where such a clever name was born. I'm oddly proud to say you can thank my father for that one.