Too Drunk to Turn the Lights Out, Too Tired to Drink More

One of my reasons for starting this web journal (I kind of hate the term "blog" and it sounds worse when you say it with a Midwestern accent, "blaaaahg")

ahem, I digress. One of the reasons for starting this is that I wanted to document, in part, the next year of my life. That is, the year where I don't imbibe of any fermented starchy liquids. Before I come off as some self-righteous teetotaler be it known that I thoroughly enjoy my beer. And my wine. And my whiskey. And martinis. You get the idea.

But I especially love beer. I'm not a total beer snob, though I won't drink any version of Bud or anything Light (or worse, Lite). I happen to enjoy Stroh's and a 40 of Schlitz now and again. But I love my beer, the more flavor the better. My first love (when drinking beer became more than getting buzzed) was for Sam Adams Boston Lager. It's still a favorite--the comfort of a well-known friend, it has that secret joy like the smell of worn leather.

so why oh why would a professed ethanol fan give up the ghost? Perhaps our valiant author was losing a battle with the bottle? well, alcoholism has an insidious presence in my extended family, but that's not it. Actually, it had to do with a pledge to a dear friend of mine. This friend has struggled with substance abuse for years and had been clean for over a year. Up until a week ago, that is, when she went out drinking and fell back with the needle for a week. Waking up disoriented in an unheated house in Detroit, she called her father from a pay phone and he refused to come get her (having seen this too many times before). Her cell phone stolen, she didn't know anyone else's phone number and walked the streets in a daze. She finally made it home, feeling ashamed and shattered that her year of freedom had ended. Where was I, the supposedly good friend, during all this? In San Diego, all too unaware. Do I wish I could have been there for her? Of course, but I don't think I could have done much. But now I'm determined to support her as she gets back on her feet, puts one foot in front of the other and gets her life back. So, feeling a bit helpless but wanting to do something meaningful, I pledged to her that while she gets her year back I won't drink at all. Nothing at all. No mulled wine at Christmas, no champagne at new years. It seemed to mean a lot to her, so I think I made a good choice. I'm giving away the little beer and liquor I have around, but keeping a nice bottle of red wine to celebrate with next Thanksgiving. She'll hopefully be a year clean and I'll hopefully have learned something through this experience.

So now I'm faced with realizing what that means--I don't think I fully realize how much of my life is interweaved with drinking. Going to see bands, playing pool with my bro, a drink with dinner, open bars at weddings, a few beers with my friends when playing music, all of it. It will be quite a step and sacrifice for me, but that's the whole point. So every time I have to explain to someone why I'm not drinking, I can think of her situation and how much more difficult it is than my own, and I can say a quick prayer for her.

I'm sure some interesting situations will arise from this dry year, so I hope to document them here. wish me strength!