BOOZY BOTANY

Your legacy—what is it going to be? More importantly, what do you WANT it to be? What are you going to do today to contribute to your life’s story? Because every day, every action—every move you make and everything you say—has the potential to either contribute to or take away from your reputation. Think of it this way: Every deed is a seed. It might seem small and meaningless today, but with time, those seeds are going to become the trees by which you are remembered. And if you want to be remembered long after you die, plant seeds that make a difference. Like Johnny Appleseed did. Yeah, he was a real dude, but you were straight-up fucking lied to.

Sure, he was a naturalist and an overall nice guy, but he wasn’t planting trees to fight America’s hunger; he was planting trees to keep America from being sober. Born in Massachusetts in 1774, John Chapman was the son of a farmer and left home at age eighteen to begin his westward expedition. At the time, laws allowed a person to claim ownership of any land they developed or cultivated. So how did John claim land? Duh, he planted trees, leaving his mark on the areas he wanted. (Kind of like a name tattoo on a lover.) Once the orchards developed, the apples were used for the production of alcohol. Why? Because water at the time was unsanitary shit, so everybody was drinking hard cider and getting lit. And John was happy to keep the trees growing and the good times flowing.

More trees meant more money, which meant more American honeys. (Ignore that last part; the only thing John cared about more than his apples was his abstinence. He was too busy planting trees to worry about pleasing ladies.)

Anyway, in the early 1800s, he adopted the nickname Johnny Appleseed and continued to build his land-baron legacy until his death in 1845, leaving behind his 1,200 acres of booze-making botany to his sister. Unfortunately, the National Prohibition Act, which took effect in 1920, led to the destruction of his remaining orchards to prevent any further alcohol production. And that’s when the bullshit story of him feeding, instead of intoxicating, America began.

After you finish this book (you’re almost there), start planting your legacy. If you’re not sure what you want that legacy to be yet, have a few drinks to help yourself think—Johnny would approve.