What Country Music Taught Me About Whiskey and Life

Drinking. It’s everywhere. It’s in our celebrations, our moments of grief, and all the spaces in between. Whether it’s the glass raised to toast a wedding or the shot tossed back to forget a breakup, alcohol feels like a constant companion. But let’s not sugarcoat it: it’s a socially accepted poison, wrapped in the illusion of fun, escape, and connection.

Cody Jinks puts it perfectly in his song "Rock and Roll":

"I don’t wanna rock and roll no moreAt least not the way I did, back beforeThat life tried to kill me—to tell the truth, it never thrilled me.I don’t wanna rock and roll no more."

There’s something hauntingly honest in those words. It’s a confession that resonates. Drinking often feels like it’s adding something to our lives—a little excitement, a little freedom—but the truth is, it’s an illusion. That thrill? It’s fake. The life we think it gives us is just a mask for the damage it’s doing underneath.

It’s easy to romanticize drinking. Society does it all the time. The glamorous commercials, the “cheers” culture, the assumption that alcohol equals fun. But the reality? It’s never as thrilling as it seems. Like Jinks sings, it’s the kind of life that tries to kill you—slowly, quietly, in ways you don’t notice until it’s almost too late. And when you step back and really look at it, the whole act of drinking feels hollow. You keep chasing the buzz, the escape, the connection, but it never truly fills you.

What’s wild is how much we normalize it. “Just one drink,” we say, as if that makes it harmless. But even occasional drinking chips away at you. It dulls your clarity, erodes your resolve, and makes it easier to turn to again and again. Before you know it, you’re caught in a cycle. And that’s the scariest part—it’s so easy to fall into, and so hard to break free from.

The thing is, drinking doesn’t just affect the drinker. It ripples out. Relationships get strained, responsibilities slip, and moments that could’ve been real and meaningful are lost in the haze. And for what? A fleeting buzz? A momentary escape? Like Jinks says, “to tell the truth, it never thrilled me.”

There’s no thrill in waking up with regret. There’s no thrill in realizing you weren’t fully present in the moments that matter. And there’s definitely no thrill in the way drinking steals the very things that make life worth living—clarity, connection, and control over your own choices.

So, what’s the solution? It starts with honesty. With stepping back and asking yourself: Why am I drinking? Is it because I enjoy it, or because it’s easier than facing the hard stuff? Am I trying to connect, or am I just numbing myself? Those are tough questions, but they’re necessary ones.

And here’s the good news: there’s life on the other side of that haze. A life that doesn’t depend on poison to feel exciting or fulfilling. A life where you can show up fully for yourself and the people you care about. It’s not easy, but it’s real. And that’s what we’re all ultimately searching for, isn’t it? Something real.

Cody Jinks nails it again in the same song:

"I don’t need that whiskey anymore,At least not the way I did, back before.That stuff tried to kill me.To tell the truth, it never thrilled me."

That’s the thing about alcohol. It tries to kill your spark, your joy, and your ability to live fully. But when you step away, when you start to see it for what it is—a socially accepted poison—you realize how much better life is without it. It’s not about judgment or shame; it’s about freedom.

Because at the end of the day, the thrill we’re all chasing? It’s not at the bottom of a glass. It’s in the moments we’re fully present. It’s in the love we share, the clarity we gain, and the peace we find when we stop running.

So, the next time someone raises a glass, think about it. Is this really what you want? Or is there a better way? Cody Jinks found his answer. Maybe it’s time to find ours.