Ok I’m getting on, I can’t deny it or fight it. I’m 64 just like the Beatles song laments. 64! It’s not the new 44 it’s bloody 64. With age should come wisdom and some maturity and yet at the age of 64 I have just had what can only be described as a childish temper tantrum. I have thrown my toys out the proverbial pram. I want to stamp my feet and scream,”It’s not fair!”. This time it’s not the impending disaster of Brexit, the new virus about to engulf us or global warming, it’s DRY JANUARY.
You think I’d be happy. I’ve stopped drinking, I’m a Soberista. I am part of a new movement, part of a paradigm shifting change of consciousness. Sober is cool. Trouble is it’s only cool when there’s a few of you doing it. Cool is shunning convention, taking an alternative path. For the last 5 months I’ve been cool, the sober one, the man of mystery and intrigue, “Did you know Jim’s not drinking, he’s a different man, I think he now hangs out with cool people, engages in 5 hour tantric sex sessions, he’s so unconventional, oh Jim you are just so fucking special.” There that’s it
I WAS THE NON DRINKER- THE SPECIAL ONE
NOW, well now it’s Dry sodding January and suddenly everyone is a non drinker. They stop for one measly little month and act like the big I AM. Makes me sick, more than that it makes me, well, just like everyone else.
On Friday I was at a concert. Cafe style set up, bring your own food and drink. There’s me with my AF beer, expensive Seedlip and tonic, thinking that’ll impress this crowd of boozers but when I look round and I see a sea of Non alcoholic drinks. Everyone has apparently gone alcohol free. Then it dawned on me, it’s dry January. Great! Suddenly I’m not special. I’m just part of the crowd. I nearly went out and bought a bottle of Absinthe just to be different. “Get a grip Jim,” I said to myself. I survived the night even though no-one came up to me to tell me how wonderful I was for not drinking. That was tough as my new cravings are validation and praise for being self denying and inspirational. It passed though. I didn’t even make a scene. I wanted to scream out, ” You fair weather soberistas make me sick, you think 4 weeks of not drinking makes you my equal, well think again, you’re pathetic. This time next week you’ll all be drinking again after indulging in a sober porn wank fest.” I realised I was in danger of losing my mind. My care worker took my hand as she could see I was agitated. We left early.
I hate Dry January.