MARY ANN FITZMORRIS

Etiquette lesson needed The manufacturers of root beer probably don’t know what they’ve got there. They probably think the product just tastes good. They’re right. But root beer has many other talents besides the ability to taste good. To a large boy, root beer is fun in a bottle. My son discovered the thrills available in a bottle of root beer several years ago at school. “Mom, did you know you can get five really good burps out of only one can of root beer?” he excitedly asked one day. Boys are very generous with such knowledge. The entire table at lunch was practicing, and they all got busted together. But my son decided honing a skill like that was definitely worth it. Such things must be shared. These lessons must be learned for future generations. Last weekend, my boy continued this fine tradition by demonstrating another root beer skill to his smaller male cousin at lunch in a restaurant. Even small boys dig this tasty drink.(Girls don’t understand root beer. They simply drink it.) Young cousin was enthralled. It seems if you get a hearty swill off a bottle of root beer (and you’re not busy choking), then set it down forcefully on a table, the carbonation gets so excited it erupts! Just like a volcano! All over the table! The waitress arrived right after Mt. Sasparilla went off and she compassionately assumed the sweet but hapless young man had knocked over his drink. Howls of laughter from the two boys didn’t clue her in, nor did stony parental glares from across the table. She offered him another drink while she started to clean his place. I declined both the new drink and the cleaning. They continued the science lesson as my son explained this trick only works after the first gulp. That was a relief. The calm lasted only a second. They moved on to lesson two – loud belching. Young cousin’s enthusiasm for this educational experience would make any teacher salivate. He was practically popping out of his seat. I explained to both boys what goes on at the lunch table at school is entirely inappropriate for any restaurant. Reluctantly they realized excoriating 101 should be held in the privacy of our house. My sister would be happy to know young cousin displayed little aptitude for this, but maybe he’s just not the right age yet. On the other hand, my own son has become entrenched in this disgusting habit and a loud burp punctuates his meals, wherever he is, often without him even noticing it. The horror displayed by his parents is the only sign something unsavory has occurred. Just as quiet burps are a learned thing, loud belching is a skill to be mastered. There is something downright thrilling about this talent if you are a pubescent male. I know boys who can loudly burp the escalating notes in the musical scale. Different levels of root beer produce different pitches, and some of these guys can actually belch out a song. These same young men have practiced this art for so long, they can burp on command. My son is trying his hardest to enter this rarefied club, although he still only belches the natural way. Unfortunately, he is making progress. It used to be that excessive carbonation was a necessary prerequisite for a big ol’ belch. But these young men have proven even a good gulp of water will do the trick. Waitresses keep checking to make sure they heard me when I tell them my son will be drinking nothing with his meal. They look at him with bemused sympathy. Some guys are so talented at this they need nothing to produce a loud burp out of, well, thin air. These friends have burping contests where the competition is stiff. I’m happy to say my son is simply unqualified to hold his own. He just watches in awe, knowing he is in the presence of greatness. I, too, watch in awe, wishing I were in the presence of just about anything…else. MARY ANN FITZMORRIS writes this column every Saturday for L’Observateur.