It’s Tie-One-On Tuesday, so that is exactly what we are going to discuss…my drinking. Recently, I was at a doctor’s appointment, and the question was posed, “How much alcohol do you drink in one week?” Hmmm...glass of wine, or two with lunch…beer with pizza, and when it’s after 11am and over 70 degrees…mimosas or Bloody Mary’s with brunch on the weekends…nightly bourbon…occasional rum drinks at the lake…I soon realized it was going to take a scientific notation calculator to figure it all out. So, I decided not to stop with what I drank in one week. I opted to deduce the number of drinks I’ve had in my lifetime. Holy Bacchus' Balls! The total was 52,338. And, this takes into consideration that I didn’t start until I was 19, was on the wagon for 6 months in my mid-twenties and again for a brief month in my mid-thirties. Aside from those two times, I have imbibed everyday. And, 80% of what I consume is indeed bourbon, so I've definitely earned the title of The Bourbonista. However, I’m not certain that is anything to be proud of.
It has often been a less than glamorous existence. There was, of course, the time I slipped in my own vomit and cracked the toilet seat with my head. And, when I pissed on our porch while dressed as Peter Pan. And, when I fell off the stage into a woodpile during a dress rehearsal for “A Lion in Winter.” And, when I made the Sound Guy cry after a Sisters Provocateur performance. And, when I face-grabbed the girl at The Bar. And…you get the picture.
I don’t drive drunk, bike drunk, babysit drunk, or go to work drunk. However, I’ve said wedding vows drunk, performed poetry drunk, gone to church drunk, done morning radio shows drunk, attended writing class drunk, signed books drunk, and roller skated drunk.
I am certain my liver would prefer if I took a sabbatical from the sauce. And, I know that being a Bourbonista is far more about a bohemian attitude than actual consumption. But, honestly, do I intend to quit boozing it up? Probably not anytime soon. I am taking precautions and a daily dose of magical Milk Thistle, which reduces poison’s effects on the body. I look deeply into my own eyes each day to make certain the whites have not begun to yellow with jaundice, and that I still recognize myself. And, I avoid doing shots out of anger for fear of a future face-grabbing incident. My drinking is not a death wish, it's just a poor lifestyle choice.
the bourbonistA, Promoting Debauchery and stamping out political-correctness one blog at a time.