I am still haunted by a mental image of two coeds that passed by me on an early morning walk to the football stadium in Iowa City a few years ago. They were wasted –obviously intoxicated from a binge that started at least the night before. Their eyes were bloodshot, with pupils dilated, set in sullen grey sockets on their slack faces as they stumbled down the street. I just saw another version of that look at a microbrewery on the south side of Des Moines. A microbrewery is not a typical hang spot for me but I was there for a meeting. I am a principal of a local flying club and the current board president selected this location due to the extreme cold at the airport hangers. There were about ten people in the large tasting room when I arrived for the meeting. During the hour-long meeting about ten drinkers left at random times while another ten arrived in almost perfect synchronicity. All but one was male, all were about 25-35 years old and well dressed. It was the look in th...