Tuesday, May 13, 2014

"There cannot be good living where there is no good drinking." Benjamin Franklin


When you retire you have more time for booze.  Hell, you have more time for everything, but booze is what we want to talk about here.  Now just because you have time for booze doesn’t mean that you imbibe more.  You may not imbibe at all.  Or you may start at 9:00AM and not stop until 9:00 the next morning.
The scope of attitudes about alcohol is truly broad and sincere.  Some despise it as a tool of the devil and others see it as a godsend that enables them to deal with the cards dealt to them – and cheaper than therapy.  Most of us are in the middle.
I like wine – perhaps a bit more than I should.  I have a glass or two every day - maybe a bit more.  OK, if there’s any left in the bottle, I’ll finish it off.  That’s why I only buy the small bottles and not the jugs or the boxes.  I’m very good about not opening the next bottle after I’ve finished the first.  I also never drive after my wine.  It would be horrible to cause a death of another because my abilities were impaired, so I don’t tempt fate.
Hard liquor – whiskey, vodka, gin – I scarcely touch at all.  I may have a martini once or year or so and that’s the truth.  Beer I have more of.  After pulling one or two weeds from the yard on a hot summer’s day, there’s nothing better than a beer but my drink of choice in a social situation or drinking alone is wine.  A dozen weeds generally require a six-pack.
One can make an entire religion out of wine.  Vineyards, varieties, vintages – the whole gambit.  Which wine goes best with steamed Amur sturgeon?  And there’s the whole new snobbish vocabulary – fruity with hints of pomegranate, a tannic veneer, a lingering aftertaste with caramel aromas, and so on.  There are magazines devoted to wine and one can sink their entire IRA, no matter how big, into constructing a climate controlled wine cellar.  The religion of wine can take over even if you only sniff the corks and don’t drink.
A spiritual experience for me – hence seldom indulged – is sitting in front of a fireplace with a warm fire, listening to popular music of my era and drinking wine.  If my wife is there, so much the better but she doesn’t have to be.  I can get very nostalgic – maudlin even.  I stare at the fire and listen to “Save the Last Dance for Me.”  A Riesling with a hint of pomegranate and an aromatic caramel aftertaste is best for this purpose.
My personality changes some after my wine.  I become more loquacious and am extremely witty.  I can say things that really make people laugh.  Sometimes I don’t even have to say anything for people to laugh at me.  But that’s really the only thing about me that changes – more talkative.  I don’t get weepy or pugnacious.  I do lose some tact.  I’m apt to say things that are on my mind that I wouldn’t before the wine.  I realize this and make extra effort to hold my tongue.  In truth though, I don’t know if I’m being more honest and true to myself after the wine or before.  That’s the only impact that wine has on my life.  There aren’t more deleterious results so by all of the self-administered tests for alcoholism I seem to be clean.  From blood tests my liver is functioning formally.   Let’s drink to that!
Each of us is different so your relationship with booze is probably very different than mine.  Part of that relationship could be a genetic response that you can’t control.  I’d like to think that if booze was a problem in my life I’d seek help, but I’ve seen some very wise and wonderful people who couldn’t make that step.  They have a pride which first impedes them from admitting a problem and second, if they recognize they have a problem, encourages them to believe they can handle it on their own.  Some of us were raised to be self-sufficient and not seek help and that gets in the way.  Booze can be a disaster not of our own making.  Take care not to fill all of that extra time by emptying bottles.

©2014 Lester C. Welch

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