Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Monday, January 4, 2016
Parenthood: Week 134 - New Years Trip 2015-2016
This past week, we went on our yearly new year's trip to visit my family in Seattle. For the past couple years, we’ve spent the week of Christmas with Diana’s family and for the week of New Years we go and visit my side of the family. Since my family does not really celebrate Christmas, this works out pretty well.
We brought everyone on this trip, Buffy and Ollie and we had a great trip spending quality time with my parents as well as my brother, his wife and their daughter, my wonderful niece.
Spending time at my parent’s is really nice. We have our own bedroom suite. They put a crib in my dad’s office so Ollie has his own space and Buffy enjoy the different couches around the house that she turns into her own beds. She has her own dog bed over there but I have to do some herding to get her off the couch to come into our room and sleep in her dog bed.
We enjoyed some really nice moments on this trip. Diana, Ollie and I went to the Pacific Science Center. While the Dinosaur exhibit, which is more than thirty years old, may seem outdated to some, but to Ollie it was fascinating. I had a nice lunch with my dad, Diana got to go shopping with my mom and we had some quality time with my brother’s family. Also my brother and I got to geek out and play the X-Wing Miniature game, which truly is an awesome, though comically entertaining experience because of our lack of skill at the game.
One of my favorite moments was when Ollie and his cousin were taking turns performing songs. Now toddlers singing is one of the most entertaining things you will ever see. At a certain point Ollie’s cousin was playing the tambourine and Ollie was singing along. He felt it necessary to hold a music book in front on him while he was singing so he would run to the piano, grab a songbook, run back to his cousin, open the book and start singing. Never once in the numerous times he did this, did the songbook actually have the song he was singing. One time I calmly told him his book was upside down, so he stopped singing, turned the book right-side-up and continued singing.
Then there was the moment when Ollie sang “Puff, The Magic Dragon” for my mom. This was my brother’s favorite song when he was Ollie age and it is one of my son's favorites. Watching Ollie sing this song for my mom was like taking a look into the past of what it might have been like for my mom to hear my brother sing this song to her. My brother and I are her sons and my mom loves us as adults but she’ll never have us back as little kids and it felt really special that she could relive that moment of my brother as a toddler through Ollie.
I take for granted that I can hug my son and kiss him. I can pick him up and cuddle him and as much as this is for Ollie, I enjoy it as a parent. There was a moment when my dad tussled my hair when saying goodnight and I initially felt annoyed and then I immediately remember how it feels touch Ollie's head. Then instead I felt love through that gesture.
Another new year’s trip done, back to “reality.” While I’m tired from the plane ride, my heart feels refreshed from the love of my family.
We brought everyone on this trip, Buffy and Ollie and we had a great trip spending quality time with my parents as well as my brother, his wife and their daughter, my wonderful niece.
Spending time at my parent’s is really nice. We have our own bedroom suite. They put a crib in my dad’s office so Ollie has his own space and Buffy enjoy the different couches around the house that she turns into her own beds. She has her own dog bed over there but I have to do some herding to get her off the couch to come into our room and sleep in her dog bed.
We enjoyed some really nice moments on this trip. Diana, Ollie and I went to the Pacific Science Center. While the Dinosaur exhibit, which is more than thirty years old, may seem outdated to some, but to Ollie it was fascinating. I had a nice lunch with my dad, Diana got to go shopping with my mom and we had some quality time with my brother’s family. Also my brother and I got to geek out and play the X-Wing Miniature game, which truly is an awesome, though comically entertaining experience because of our lack of skill at the game.
One of my favorite moments was when Ollie and his cousin were taking turns performing songs. Now toddlers singing is one of the most entertaining things you will ever see. At a certain point Ollie’s cousin was playing the tambourine and Ollie was singing along. He felt it necessary to hold a music book in front on him while he was singing so he would run to the piano, grab a songbook, run back to his cousin, open the book and start singing. Never once in the numerous times he did this, did the songbook actually have the song he was singing. One time I calmly told him his book was upside down, so he stopped singing, turned the book right-side-up and continued singing.
Then there was the moment when Ollie sang “Puff, The Magic Dragon” for my mom. This was my brother’s favorite song when he was Ollie age and it is one of my son's favorites. Watching Ollie sing this song for my mom was like taking a look into the past of what it might have been like for my mom to hear my brother sing this song to her. My brother and I are her sons and my mom loves us as adults but she’ll never have us back as little kids and it felt really special that she could relive that moment of my brother as a toddler through Ollie.
I take for granted that I can hug my son and kiss him. I can pick him up and cuddle him and as much as this is for Ollie, I enjoy it as a parent. There was a moment when my dad tussled my hair when saying goodnight and I initially felt annoyed and then I immediately remember how it feels touch Ollie's head. Then instead I felt love through that gesture.
Another new year’s trip done, back to “reality.” While I’m tired from the plane ride, my heart feels refreshed from the love of my family.
Friday, January 1, 2016
30 Days Dry – Part 4: What Drinking Means To Me
When I taste that first sip of beer, I am reminded of how my mom first started going out with my dad because he liked how she enjoyed drinking beer. When I hear the rattle of ice against the side of my high ball glass full of whiskey, I'm transported back to my childhood bedroom. Listening in the dark as I lay in my bed, I would wait until I heard the sound of the ice in my dad’s whiskey glass as a signal that he was home from a late night at work. Only then would I feel relaxed and let myself slip into sleep. In the soft warmth that comes from a great drink I am reminded of the camaraderie and the joy of times with friends, sharing drinks, helping me learn to stop trying to be someone else and to love being myself.
Alcoholic beverages are as central to many cultures’ identity as fashion, cuisines, art and music. You can understand Italian culture without knowing great Italian operas, but you miss experiencing something profound about being Italian without knowing these great works of art. In the same way drinking an American lager will bring you an understanding of Midwestern working class roots in a way that few other experiences can.
Wines, beers, liquors and spirits are powerfully personal and culturally significant. My understanding of these beverages has connected me with my family and my cultural history. I have extended family members who barely speak English that only through drinking whiskey have we crossed cultural barriers and created meaningful memories.
As a second-generation immigrant, learning about American drinking culture in college and beyond has helped me make sense of a world that far too often, still feels foreign. Each new drink I tried and each new tradition I participated related to drinking brought me closer to what it meant to be American.
In each sip of an alcoholic drink I feel my culture and my family. I feel closer to the world around me, connecting with generations of artisans that contributed to the creation of what I am enjoying. I am also sharing an experience with people around the world and through time who have drank the same beverage that I am enjoying.
The process of distilling, brewing and fermenting has the potential to create unparalleled flavors with wonderful nuances and complexity. Like a great opera, knowing a great whiskey takes work, exposure and expertise to appreciate. And like with a masterpiece of an aria, after learning about a great whisky, the experience of drinking that great spirit can be an emotional and beautiful experience.
It's not all about high art. Like a hot dog on a Fourth of July cookout, even a mediocre beer with the right friends can help create unforgettable eating experiences.
On the same section in a store that you can find artfully crated spirits that reflect great human achievement built on years of study and innovation you can also find lower down on a bottom shelf, mass-produced beverages only drunk for escapism. It is in these extremes that we find the best and the worst of the human experience of drinking alcohol. In that top shelf you find the beauty of human expression through flavor and tradition and in the bottom shelf there is only a stale taste that reflects the burden of a pleasure turned into a darkness that clouds one's soul in regret.
To love alcohol is to know what it can bring to life and what it can take away. Alcohol can feel both essential and extraneous, inspiring and depressing. It is a force that has brought families together and torn families apart. Alcoholic beverages for some bring out the best in us but in others bring forth the worst parts of our humanity.
I really enjoy drinking but I've taken this break because it seems like far too often drinking was not a culturally meaningful experience. It was simply a way to escape. I have my stress and my difficulties but I have a blessed life and never did the escapism of drinking alcohol make me feel better about the challenges in my life.
My relationship with alcohol continues to evolve. If I find myself missing the meaningful experience of drinking, I will take a break, like a recently have to reevaluate. Someday, I will probably walk way from drinking for good. Will I miss it? I hope so, and for the right reasons. If I miss it for the wrong reasons than it'll be a confirmation that walking away truly is for the best.
Alcoholic beverages are as central to many cultures’ identity as fashion, cuisines, art and music. You can understand Italian culture without knowing great Italian operas, but you miss experiencing something profound about being Italian without knowing these great works of art. In the same way drinking an American lager will bring you an understanding of Midwestern working class roots in a way that few other experiences can.
Wines, beers, liquors and spirits are powerfully personal and culturally significant. My understanding of these beverages has connected me with my family and my cultural history. I have extended family members who barely speak English that only through drinking whiskey have we crossed cultural barriers and created meaningful memories.
As a second-generation immigrant, learning about American drinking culture in college and beyond has helped me make sense of a world that far too often, still feels foreign. Each new drink I tried and each new tradition I participated related to drinking brought me closer to what it meant to be American.
In each sip of an alcoholic drink I feel my culture and my family. I feel closer to the world around me, connecting with generations of artisans that contributed to the creation of what I am enjoying. I am also sharing an experience with people around the world and through time who have drank the same beverage that I am enjoying.
The process of distilling, brewing and fermenting has the potential to create unparalleled flavors with wonderful nuances and complexity. Like a great opera, knowing a great whiskey takes work, exposure and expertise to appreciate. And like with a masterpiece of an aria, after learning about a great whisky, the experience of drinking that great spirit can be an emotional and beautiful experience.
It's not all about high art. Like a hot dog on a Fourth of July cookout, even a mediocre beer with the right friends can help create unforgettable eating experiences.
On the same section in a store that you can find artfully crated spirits that reflect great human achievement built on years of study and innovation you can also find lower down on a bottom shelf, mass-produced beverages only drunk for escapism. It is in these extremes that we find the best and the worst of the human experience of drinking alcohol. In that top shelf you find the beauty of human expression through flavor and tradition and in the bottom shelf there is only a stale taste that reflects the burden of a pleasure turned into a darkness that clouds one's soul in regret.
To love alcohol is to know what it can bring to life and what it can take away. Alcohol can feel both essential and extraneous, inspiring and depressing. It is a force that has brought families together and torn families apart. Alcoholic beverages for some bring out the best in us but in others bring forth the worst parts of our humanity.
I really enjoy drinking but I've taken this break because it seems like far too often drinking was not a culturally meaningful experience. It was simply a way to escape. I have my stress and my difficulties but I have a blessed life and never did the escapism of drinking alcohol make me feel better about the challenges in my life.
My relationship with alcohol continues to evolve. If I find myself missing the meaningful experience of drinking, I will take a break, like a recently have to reevaluate. Someday, I will probably walk way from drinking for good. Will I miss it? I hope so, and for the right reasons. If I miss it for the wrong reasons than it'll be a confirmation that walking away truly is for the best.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
30 Days Dry – Part 3: Drinking Like A Man
Don Draper drank “Old Fashioneds,” James Bond had his martinis, Wolverine drank beer like water, Frank Sinatra loved Jack Daniel’s whiskey, and Ron Swanson loves his scotch. The only manly man that I can think of who doesn’t have drinking as part of their mystique and identity is Batman, who in his Bruce Wayne persona would drink ginger ale pretending he was champagne.
In America to be a man, a real man, our culture tells you that you have to like sports, enjoy shopping for power tools and drink booze. I discussed what it means to drink like a man in this post
As I’ve grown up as an adult, being able to drink “like a man,” has been one way that I’ve been able to bound with other man and feel more “manly” in conversations and in parties. I’m not a typical man’s man and wile I’ve come to terms with this, I’d be lying if I claimed that I was completely over feeling of masculine inferiority because of the fact that my identity and interest do not fit what most people typically consider as being “manly.”
Knowing the difference between scotch and bourbon, being able to understand the nuances of different hops in IPAs, and being able to not only drink my vodka straight but enjoy it this way made me feel more masculine. All of these actions connected me with the male heroes in our popular culture and provided an entry point into conversations with other guys.
Last week, at a holiday party, I realized that I was the only guy in the room of about 30 people who didn’t either have a beer or glass of wine in my hand (most of the guys had beers), while only about a third of the woman had a drink (only one woman had a beer). I saw for the first time that like make-up, hair care, nail care, whether a person was drinking and what they were drinking was an expression of gender. I’ve been going to these kinds of parties for years but I didn’t make this observation until I took a step away and wasn’t contributing to these trends.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with men or woman having a topic that they are more typically interested in that they discuss as a way of bonding. At the same time it’s important to think about these subjects and their implications. A group of teenage girls who always talk about dieting and how to improve their bodies may be expressing some insecurities that need addressing and a group of boys who bond over making racist jokes need to understand the implications of their words.
Our view on alcohol in our culture is full of gender stereotypes. Masculine heroes often drink while feminine heroes often do not. There are girly drinks and manly drinks. Drinking for men is viewed as a rite of passage, while many people view drinking as not being lady-like.
In this month off, I've realized how much drinking is part of my masculine expression, which is one reason I've missed booze. I don't understand why I need my masculinity affirmed, but I guess that's part of my biology.
Shouldn't something deeper, more lasting connect me with my feeling of being a man, like being a good father? Maybe we've focused too much on the imagery and external things like booze to give us a feeling of strength that we really should be getting through our accomplishments and our achievements as loving family members. I don't mind the idea of drinking beer as helping me feel more like a man, but the idea that alcohol could grow to define what it means for me to be a man is disturbing.
Maybe Don Draper drank to feel like a man because he was an inadequate husband. James Bond's martini's maybe covered up his guilt for the deaths he caused, Wolverine had decades of pain and regret he tried to escape, and Frank Sinatra was an absent father. And Ron Swanson, he's not really an example of man but a caricature of the worst stereotypes of masculinity, flaws and all.
And the sober one, Batman is even more messed up than all of these guys, but whatever. . .
In America to be a man, a real man, our culture tells you that you have to like sports, enjoy shopping for power tools and drink booze. I discussed what it means to drink like a man in this post
As I’ve grown up as an adult, being able to drink “like a man,” has been one way that I’ve been able to bound with other man and feel more “manly” in conversations and in parties. I’m not a typical man’s man and wile I’ve come to terms with this, I’d be lying if I claimed that I was completely over feeling of masculine inferiority because of the fact that my identity and interest do not fit what most people typically consider as being “manly.”
Knowing the difference between scotch and bourbon, being able to understand the nuances of different hops in IPAs, and being able to not only drink my vodka straight but enjoy it this way made me feel more masculine. All of these actions connected me with the male heroes in our popular culture and provided an entry point into conversations with other guys.
Last week, at a holiday party, I realized that I was the only guy in the room of about 30 people who didn’t either have a beer or glass of wine in my hand (most of the guys had beers), while only about a third of the woman had a drink (only one woman had a beer). I saw for the first time that like make-up, hair care, nail care, whether a person was drinking and what they were drinking was an expression of gender. I’ve been going to these kinds of parties for years but I didn’t make this observation until I took a step away and wasn’t contributing to these trends.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with men or woman having a topic that they are more typically interested in that they discuss as a way of bonding. At the same time it’s important to think about these subjects and their implications. A group of teenage girls who always talk about dieting and how to improve their bodies may be expressing some insecurities that need addressing and a group of boys who bond over making racist jokes need to understand the implications of their words.
Our view on alcohol in our culture is full of gender stereotypes. Masculine heroes often drink while feminine heroes often do not. There are girly drinks and manly drinks. Drinking for men is viewed as a rite of passage, while many people view drinking as not being lady-like.
In this month off, I've realized how much drinking is part of my masculine expression, which is one reason I've missed booze. I don't understand why I need my masculinity affirmed, but I guess that's part of my biology.
Shouldn't something deeper, more lasting connect me with my feeling of being a man, like being a good father? Maybe we've focused too much on the imagery and external things like booze to give us a feeling of strength that we really should be getting through our accomplishments and our achievements as loving family members. I don't mind the idea of drinking beer as helping me feel more like a man, but the idea that alcohol could grow to define what it means for me to be a man is disturbing.
Maybe Don Draper drank to feel like a man because he was an inadequate husband. James Bond's martini's maybe covered up his guilt for the deaths he caused, Wolverine had decades of pain and regret he tried to escape, and Frank Sinatra was an absent father. And Ron Swanson, he's not really an example of man but a caricature of the worst stereotypes of masculinity, flaws and all.
And the sober one, Batman is even more messed up than all of these guys, but whatever. . .
Monday, December 28, 2015
Parenthood: Week 133 – Putting On Christmas For A Toddler
Parenthood transforms a person from being a spectator during the holidays into an active participant.
When you are kid, your parents do most of the shopping, decorating and planning that goes into making holiday events and traditions a reality. When you are kid you “help” but it’s the parents who really make thing happen. When you become an adult and get married you start taking on a more active role in the holidays. You are expected to bring a dish to holiday parties, and with your own place you have to take on decorating, getting a tree and establishing your own holiday traditions with your spouse. While all of this takes work, it’s stuff that you and your partner are doing for yourselves. The consequences are not that great if you mess something up.
Parenthood changes all of this. Without a kid you can show up for family party whenever you feel like it, drink and eat carelessly and leave when you feel like it. You can really party. With a child you have to carefully plan your arrival and departure times around naps and bed times.
At these events you are constantly tag teaming with your spouse to make sure that your kid is doing okay. When you have an infant, you have to watch who is holding your child and make sure your baby are not being overwhelmed. With a toddler you have make sure that they do not run into things, break random things and eat too many cookies.
You and/or you spouse are “on” the entire time you are at a party. You are more concerned about what you kid is eating for dinner and you curb your drinking to make sure that you are in a sound mind to handle the inevitable meltdown as your child’s bedtime comes and goes.
At home you and your spouse are part of the holiday production team. You figure out a list of events and activities, decorate the house and create “Christmas magic.” You try to make something special for your little one because as adulthood teaches you, nothing about Christmas is inevitable; all of what is special about this time of year is a result from careful work and planning.
This was the first year that Ollie really understood and looked forward to Christmas, I felt more pressure this year to make this time of year special for Ollie. Diana did most of the work taking the lead with decorations, present shopping and wrapping. While there was stress involved with this process, there was also a lot of excitement.
After all of the parties and the craziness, we are exhausted. Putting on Christmas for a toddler is really tiring and having a kid, like with every other part of your life, changes everything. It's about taking on the work that your parents do for you in a way that feels meaningful. It's not about obligation but the sharing of joy. It's about doing work for someone you love and finding joy not in receiving but in giving. Maybe it's through this process from experiencing the holidays first as a child and then as parents do we truly understand the meaning of this time of year.
When you are kid, your parents do most of the shopping, decorating and planning that goes into making holiday events and traditions a reality. When you are kid you “help” but it’s the parents who really make thing happen. When you become an adult and get married you start taking on a more active role in the holidays. You are expected to bring a dish to holiday parties, and with your own place you have to take on decorating, getting a tree and establishing your own holiday traditions with your spouse. While all of this takes work, it’s stuff that you and your partner are doing for yourselves. The consequences are not that great if you mess something up.
Parenthood changes all of this. Without a kid you can show up for family party whenever you feel like it, drink and eat carelessly and leave when you feel like it. You can really party. With a child you have to carefully plan your arrival and departure times around naps and bed times.
At these events you are constantly tag teaming with your spouse to make sure that your kid is doing okay. When you have an infant, you have to watch who is holding your child and make sure your baby are not being overwhelmed. With a toddler you have make sure that they do not run into things, break random things and eat too many cookies.
You and/or you spouse are “on” the entire time you are at a party. You are more concerned about what you kid is eating for dinner and you curb your drinking to make sure that you are in a sound mind to handle the inevitable meltdown as your child’s bedtime comes and goes.
At home you and your spouse are part of the holiday production team. You figure out a list of events and activities, decorate the house and create “Christmas magic.” You try to make something special for your little one because as adulthood teaches you, nothing about Christmas is inevitable; all of what is special about this time of year is a result from careful work and planning.
This was the first year that Ollie really understood and looked forward to Christmas, I felt more pressure this year to make this time of year special for Ollie. Diana did most of the work taking the lead with decorations, present shopping and wrapping. While there was stress involved with this process, there was also a lot of excitement.
After all of the parties and the craziness, we are exhausted. Putting on Christmas for a toddler is really tiring and having a kid, like with every other part of your life, changes everything. It's about taking on the work that your parents do for you in a way that feels meaningful. It's not about obligation but the sharing of joy. It's about doing work for someone you love and finding joy not in receiving but in giving. Maybe it's through this process from experiencing the holidays first as a child and then as parents do we truly understand the meaning of this time of year.
Friday, December 25, 2015
30 Days Dry - Part 2: Drunk History
I was never much for underage drinking.
I think I only had a drink one time when I was at a high school party. It was a wine cooler, didn’t taste very good and I didn’t get the appeal. The sneaking around just felt weird and I felt like I had better things to do with my time.
Did I have a superiority complex in high school? Oh yeah, you better believe it. I didn’t really see my time in high school as time to be messing around. I wanted to get into a good college and prove to my classmates that this music stuff I was doing wasn’t something that make me dorky, but something that made me special.
When my brother turned 21 (I’m three years younger), my parents would let me have a glass a wine with dinner, but I was apprehensive and didn’t really get into it. I’ve never developed a palette for wine. I respect the art and craft of creating wine and the complexities of the flavors, but the snobbery and overall sweetness of most wines didn’t appeal to me.
Then I went to college and joined a fraternity (read more about this in this series of posts). No, the floodgates did not open up. I was at Northwestern University. None of my friends wanted to waste their time being drunk all of the time. We understood and valued that freedom away from adult responsibilities afforded us time to do explore new experience and live life to the fullest. However, for my group of friends this meant join marching band, joining clubs and take extra classes.
Don’t get me wrong. I had my moments. There were emails sent when I was drunk that I regret sending, close encounters with university police and nights that left more of an impression than clear memories. While I had fun, I didn’t really enjoy drinking alcohol my first couple years at college. I just drank to party and to loosen up.
When I turned 21, I really felt like I grew up in my understanding and appreciation of the culture of drinking. I started to develop a taste for beer and drank mixed drinks that instead of hiding the taste of the alcohol, and eventuated the nuances. Drinking at bars legally was far more fun than standing in a crowded dorm room holding a red plastic cup filled with some mystery punch. That type of situation made me feel like a high school student playing pretend. Sitting in a bar made me feel like an adult.
Like most people I went through phases in my drinking. First it was Southern Comfort, than whiskey, than beer, vodka, than back to beer, a weird phase where I was all about Rieslings and lately I’ve been into craft beers.
When I was in high school and early college, I drank because I wanted to fit in. I enjoyed it on some level but I could live without it. It wasn’t until I got to my mid-twenties that I enjoyed drinking for what it meant culturally. There was the tradition, and the history but more anything else for a guy who felt like a sissy for most of his life, drinking made me feel like a man.
Lately, this fact has been bothering me.
I think I only had a drink one time when I was at a high school party. It was a wine cooler, didn’t taste very good and I didn’t get the appeal. The sneaking around just felt weird and I felt like I had better things to do with my time.
Did I have a superiority complex in high school? Oh yeah, you better believe it. I didn’t really see my time in high school as time to be messing around. I wanted to get into a good college and prove to my classmates that this music stuff I was doing wasn’t something that make me dorky, but something that made me special.
When my brother turned 21 (I’m three years younger), my parents would let me have a glass a wine with dinner, but I was apprehensive and didn’t really get into it. I’ve never developed a palette for wine. I respect the art and craft of creating wine and the complexities of the flavors, but the snobbery and overall sweetness of most wines didn’t appeal to me.
Then I went to college and joined a fraternity (read more about this in this series of posts). No, the floodgates did not open up. I was at Northwestern University. None of my friends wanted to waste their time being drunk all of the time. We understood and valued that freedom away from adult responsibilities afforded us time to do explore new experience and live life to the fullest. However, for my group of friends this meant join marching band, joining clubs and take extra classes.
Don’t get me wrong. I had my moments. There were emails sent when I was drunk that I regret sending, close encounters with university police and nights that left more of an impression than clear memories. While I had fun, I didn’t really enjoy drinking alcohol my first couple years at college. I just drank to party and to loosen up.
When I turned 21, I really felt like I grew up in my understanding and appreciation of the culture of drinking. I started to develop a taste for beer and drank mixed drinks that instead of hiding the taste of the alcohol, and eventuated the nuances. Drinking at bars legally was far more fun than standing in a crowded dorm room holding a red plastic cup filled with some mystery punch. That type of situation made me feel like a high school student playing pretend. Sitting in a bar made me feel like an adult.
Like most people I went through phases in my drinking. First it was Southern Comfort, than whiskey, than beer, vodka, than back to beer, a weird phase where I was all about Rieslings and lately I’ve been into craft beers.
When I was in high school and early college, I drank because I wanted to fit in. I enjoyed it on some level but I could live without it. It wasn’t until I got to my mid-twenties that I enjoyed drinking for what it meant culturally. There was the tradition, and the history but more anything else for a guy who felt like a sissy for most of his life, drinking made me feel like a man.
Lately, this fact has been bothering me.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
30 Days Dry - Part 1: Why?
I’m writing at my computer at home, with a pint glass full of tonic water, just tonic water, no vodka or gin. Right now after 28 days without a drop of alcohol, I could really go a beer.
In mid-November I decided that between Thanksgiving and Christmas I wasn’t going to drink any alcohol. I saw that one of my co-workers was doing this and after some Internet browsing, it became clear that going dry for an extended period of time was something a lot of people were doing. Some people were doing it for their health, others as a social experiment and some were going dry because of the challenge.
I liked the idea that it would be good for my health. I tried to stick with only drinking on the weekends but sometimes I drank during the weekends, when after a tough day, I “deserved” it. Most of the time I felt fine but especially since entering my thirties it feels like a gamble when I drink. Some mornings I feel fine, and others I feel slightly hung over. My body just doesn’t process alcohol like it used to. I wanted to get my body cleaned up.
Every time I get back from winter break I feel like I need a week to get over all of the drinking that happens around the holiday season. Between rewarding myself for stressful workdays and all of the holiday events and parties, there’s a lot of drinking that happens.
I wanted to test myself. Thanksgiving to Christmas is one of the most stressful times of year for my work and in my personal life. All of the holiday performances are difficult to handle and especially now with a kid, the holiday season requires more active planning and participation from me as a parent. Did I really need booze to help me handle all of this stress or was I strong enough to handle this myself?
The main reason that I wanted to go dry for a month was Ollie. One of the unfortunate things about drinking especially at parties is that it sometimes it makes you less present. In awkward situations, drinking can pull you out of the discomfort and this is really helpful at times, but I’m not sure how this affects Ollie. I never feel like I get enough time with Ollie and the time that I spend with him, I really want to be there with him and for him, fully, even if that means I have to deal with more feelings of social awkwardness.
This last month has been hard. I miss the flavor of a good beer, the aroma great whiskey. I miss the ritual of drinking, pouring a beer into a glass, mixing up an old fashioned. I miss the warmth of relaxation and the feeling of freedom that comes when the first wave of alcohol makes the world seem more vibrant and accessible.
I don’t miss wondering how I’m going to feel the following morning after a night of drinking. I don’t miss the feeling of being drunk and I don’t miss the fear that somehow I will loose control.
In the past I’ve taken a couple weeks off to make sure that I can live without booze that I’m not somehow slipping into alcoholism. I irrationally fear this possibility, because taking time off drinking has never been a big issue. The challenge of this month off though really makes me wonder. Why do I miss alcohol? What does alcohol really mean to my life? To all of our lives?
I’m going explore all of this in the next couple posts from my first drink to being the only man at a party without a beer in his hand.
In mid-November I decided that between Thanksgiving and Christmas I wasn’t going to drink any alcohol. I saw that one of my co-workers was doing this and after some Internet browsing, it became clear that going dry for an extended period of time was something a lot of people were doing. Some people were doing it for their health, others as a social experiment and some were going dry because of the challenge.
I liked the idea that it would be good for my health. I tried to stick with only drinking on the weekends but sometimes I drank during the weekends, when after a tough day, I “deserved” it. Most of the time I felt fine but especially since entering my thirties it feels like a gamble when I drink. Some mornings I feel fine, and others I feel slightly hung over. My body just doesn’t process alcohol like it used to. I wanted to get my body cleaned up.
Every time I get back from winter break I feel like I need a week to get over all of the drinking that happens around the holiday season. Between rewarding myself for stressful workdays and all of the holiday events and parties, there’s a lot of drinking that happens.
I wanted to test myself. Thanksgiving to Christmas is one of the most stressful times of year for my work and in my personal life. All of the holiday performances are difficult to handle and especially now with a kid, the holiday season requires more active planning and participation from me as a parent. Did I really need booze to help me handle all of this stress or was I strong enough to handle this myself?
The main reason that I wanted to go dry for a month was Ollie. One of the unfortunate things about drinking especially at parties is that it sometimes it makes you less present. In awkward situations, drinking can pull you out of the discomfort and this is really helpful at times, but I’m not sure how this affects Ollie. I never feel like I get enough time with Ollie and the time that I spend with him, I really want to be there with him and for him, fully, even if that means I have to deal with more feelings of social awkwardness.
This last month has been hard. I miss the flavor of a good beer, the aroma great whiskey. I miss the ritual of drinking, pouring a beer into a glass, mixing up an old fashioned. I miss the warmth of relaxation and the feeling of freedom that comes when the first wave of alcohol makes the world seem more vibrant and accessible.
I don’t miss wondering how I’m going to feel the following morning after a night of drinking. I don’t miss the feeling of being drunk and I don’t miss the fear that somehow I will loose control.
In the past I’ve taken a couple weeks off to make sure that I can live without booze that I’m not somehow slipping into alcoholism. I irrationally fear this possibility, because taking time off drinking has never been a big issue. The challenge of this month off though really makes me wonder. Why do I miss alcohol? What does alcohol really mean to my life? To all of our lives?
I’m going explore all of this in the next couple posts from my first drink to being the only man at a party without a beer in his hand.
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