Yes, I agree totally about the middle class tendency to stamp on working class celebration (New Labour's latest assault on "binge drinking" springs to mind).
Mind you, even good old Tommy Armstrong occasionally showed the downside of spreeing. In Bobby and Bet, although the story has humorous intentions, something tells me that there's a fundamental truth in poor old Bet's experience - sipping gin at home then getting abuse from her husband who's been having a far better time down the pub. And that goes right back to the poor lass that "married a keelman", and was definitely not enjoying things like "Wor Nan". I reckon that's a gender thing rather than a class one, and drink is a symptom, not a cause.
But there are class elements in tipple of choice too - real ale as opposed to Fed fizz; red wine versus alcopops. Sadly I fit into the former pattern, which probably marks me out as irredeemably upwardly mobile (ugh!). Couldn't rediscover my roots from downing bottles of Brown, either, because I originated from the NW Durham teetotal Methodist (Ribena for communion wine) wing of leftie dissenters!