Thursday, October 23, 2008
My motivation for switching to extra-lite beer. Even the chest hair.
There are so many reasons right now to get wasted. The economy is teetering on the edge of complete collapse (or not, depending on who you ask), in the 12 days Americans will elect a new leader (a decision that we’ve really screwed up recently), Heroes is complete trash this season and $150,000 at Neiman’s doesn’t get what it used to. I mean, I would never look at Sarah Palin and say, “Damn, now that is a $150,000 wardrobe, no doubt.”
But, there are celebratory reasons to get tanked too. The Phillies won the first game of the World Series last night and as all the sports talking-heads have been saying, 10 out of 11 teams that have done that are destined to win the whole caboodle. Stats are never wrong, right? Also, 30 Rock is new next week, so that’s good. Top Chef starts next month. Um, and we just bought a new futon – it has springs it in. That’s reason to celebrate, right? OK, so most of us are drinking to slightly alter our minds to escape the harsh reality of our bank accounts and general ennui, at least for a little while.
Just married? Have some champagne. Just divorced? Have some scotch. There is always an occasion and it’s nearly always 5 o’clock somewhere.
There are drinkers and nondrinkers and I’ve recently realized that I don’t know any of the latter. I've found myself feeling oddly offended when one person at the table declines when the bar wench comes around inquiring as to another round. Then I say to myself in the Steve Martin Excuse me voice, "I'm sorry, are you trrrryyyying to kill my buzz?" I'm down to drinking 64 calorie Miller something-er-other just so I can feel OK about drinking 2 at home on the weeknights. But, have no fear for me, fair reader. I've starting a new thing on the treadmill, I think it's called "jogging" or "running sort of slow" and it's amazing! I can drink even more without consequences now!
I've also recently found this video of a certain famous drunkard which has provided me with much motivation to cut back a little from what I was calling "moderation".
Not sure which is worse, the drunken Wells or the French pronunciation of "Mason".