Few people know that for a brief period in my life I was a heavy drinker. It is one of the things that I did not succeed at very well. Actually, not at all. This journey into my past came up this evening when my oldest daughter called to make sure I was safe from the rioters and the coronavirus. I am not sure just how the subject of drinking came up in the conversation, but it did. Oh, I know. We were discussing the riots that are going on because some jerk knelt on a guys neck and killed him. The fact that he did that was bad enough, but that he did it while in the capacity of law enforcement made it worse.
Debbie and Hammer had started their life together in a volatile relationship since both of them were drinkers. She was remembering how two policemen had subdued her by "hog tying " her. They held her spread eagle above the ground and she was pretty much helpless. No damage to her and no damage to them in that situation. The point of that being that a person can be neutralized without pain on injury. That all became a moot point when I explained to her that I had neve been arrested, and so was never "neutralized". I further explained to her that I was never a rowdy drunk. My journeys into the bottom of the bottle always resulted in projectile vomiting. Thanks to this I also did not end up in the wrong bed at the end of the evening. When the world started spinning, I got sick. Now, I do not mean kind of sick. I mean I hit the bed, hung on with both hands and tried to pass out before what ever I had eaten for the previous weeks came up. I never made it and I always wound up praying to the porcelain god and I must confess that the cool water splashing my face was a welcome relief. Men some how did not want to take a chance on me not getting sick, and I respected their wisdom.
I watched my friends as they "had a drink to relax." Or partied and had a "really good time." Not me. Drinking was to get drunk. Getting drunk, meant getting sick. There never was any enjoyment in it at all, so I finally just gave it up as a lost cause. Kenny never drank and the only time there was any alcohol in our house was when Vi and Mel came in the summer. We would have a tomato beer. A tomato beer. Not beers. A tomato beer and usually it was a quart of beer and a can of tomato juice. Ah, the good old days.
Now I drink water and sometimes tea. Coffee for breakfast. Once or twice a year I stop at McDonalds and get a cola of some sort. Small one. A guy in New York sent me a bottle of wine many years ago. It took me 2 years to drink it down about half way and I threw the bottom half away. Just don't have the taste for it anymore and I sadly fear that a good drunk would probably kill me at my age now!
Well, I guess I am off to bed. Nice to know my bed is stable and my dreams are forgotten as soon as they happen! Y'all have a good one. May your blessings be many and your worries few and may the road rise up to meet you and the wind be always at your back.
Cheers!
Debbie and Hammer had started their life together in a volatile relationship since both of them were drinkers. She was remembering how two policemen had subdued her by "hog tying " her. They held her spread eagle above the ground and she was pretty much helpless. No damage to her and no damage to them in that situation. The point of that being that a person can be neutralized without pain on injury. That all became a moot point when I explained to her that I had neve been arrested, and so was never "neutralized". I further explained to her that I was never a rowdy drunk. My journeys into the bottom of the bottle always resulted in projectile vomiting. Thanks to this I also did not end up in the wrong bed at the end of the evening. When the world started spinning, I got sick. Now, I do not mean kind of sick. I mean I hit the bed, hung on with both hands and tried to pass out before what ever I had eaten for the previous weeks came up. I never made it and I always wound up praying to the porcelain god and I must confess that the cool water splashing my face was a welcome relief. Men some how did not want to take a chance on me not getting sick, and I respected their wisdom.
I watched my friends as they "had a drink to relax." Or partied and had a "really good time." Not me. Drinking was to get drunk. Getting drunk, meant getting sick. There never was any enjoyment in it at all, so I finally just gave it up as a lost cause. Kenny never drank and the only time there was any alcohol in our house was when Vi and Mel came in the summer. We would have a tomato beer. A tomato beer. Not beers. A tomato beer and usually it was a quart of beer and a can of tomato juice. Ah, the good old days.
Now I drink water and sometimes tea. Coffee for breakfast. Once or twice a year I stop at McDonalds and get a cola of some sort. Small one. A guy in New York sent me a bottle of wine many years ago. It took me 2 years to drink it down about half way and I threw the bottom half away. Just don't have the taste for it anymore and I sadly fear that a good drunk would probably kill me at my age now!
Well, I guess I am off to bed. Nice to know my bed is stable and my dreams are forgotten as soon as they happen! Y'all have a good one. May your blessings be many and your worries few and may the road rise up to meet you and the wind be always at your back.
Cheers!
1 comment:
Not much vomiting in my drinking daze and that's probably why my hangovers were so bad. The first time that I experimented with weed in college I was "hooked" because there was no debilitating hangover involved.
Great read. Keep these musings and ramblings coming.
💗
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