DRY JANUARY

Dry January needs a new PR agency.

Think about all those commercials for cruises and vacation getaways, packed with water sports, nightlife, and family bonding. And the occasional COVID quarantine. The latter at least has a disco ball to keep the mood light.

A commercial for Dry January would feature cold, snowy conditions, short, gloomy days, and action scenes featuring men staring longingly at their refrigerators.

It is no coincidence that January is from the Latin for “sensory deprivation”. 

And Dry from the Latin for “The Death of fun”.

Even the Super Bowl has been moved to February.

And now that the Supreme Court has upheld OSHA’s mandate that all Americans make New Year’s Resolutions, we are left scrambling with “what to give up”.

Statistics show that 104% of American New Year’s Resolutions lists start with Dry January.

The second most common resolution, by 46% of respondents, is to quit believing statistics.

Third, with 22%, is to figure out what OSHA stands for.

Perhaps we need to take a cue from other countries for our January resolutions.

In France, January is about eating more butter, drinking more wine, and the Wife Exchange.

Switzerland has month long chocolate festivals, Heidi impersonators, and aerial tributes to Swiss Bank Accounts. A welcome break from the stress of guarding the Pope.

But the month of January truly belongs to Russia, where they party like its 1852!

There are 3 hours of daylight – an extra 2 minutes! – copious vodka consumption, and the Annual Comrade Pot Luck supper. Unfortunately, with no food available for purchase, all the covered dishes are vodka.

The downside for Dry January is that so many things go better with beer:  Horseback riding, cattle wrestling, scuba diving, more beer…  

And of course, grilling. 

The Sphinx’s grilling riddle: Does it really take 6 men to grill, or is it the beer?

As an aside, IPAs are a tribute to ‘American mega-portions’: More hops!

The plus side to Dry January?  All the things we can accomplish with our spare non-drinking time. “Drink less, do more!”

But maybe I’m happier doing less…

I finally tried podcasts, but I really don’t care how things work, was frightened when I discovered the “inner me”, and don’t really trust Ted.

I listened to a lot of my favorite music while sitting in my car, pretending I was driving somewhere for Happy Hour. But maybe I turned the key the wrong way, because I’m having breathing and memory issues.

And I finally tackled those home improvement projects that have been stacking up.

I’m currently looking for a handy man to fix all the damage I caused.

So, the challenge to a PR rep: How do we put lipstick on this pig?

Partner with California?  No smoking, nothing but vegan entrees, and no bacon!  

Partner with the Mental Health Board?  Extra darkness and cold, just perfect for those depressed moods!

Partner with the CDC? Stay home. It’s cold outside and you don’t want to die. And your at-home tests will arrive right after Omicron ends!  

Maybe there’s no salvaging January, a dreary proposition I guess I can deal with for a month.

Perhaps the best campaign for January: Confirming every doubt you’ve ever had about yourself!

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TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:

John Barleycorn  Traffic (Steve Winwood)

There were three men came out of the west, their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn must die
They’ve plowed, they’ve sown, they’ve harrowed him in
Threw clods upon his head
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn was dead

They’ve let him lie for a very long time, ’til the rains from heaven did fall
And little Sir John sprung up his head and so amazed them all
They’ve let him stand ’til midsummer’s day ’til he looked both pale and wan
And little Sir John’s grown a long long beard and so become a man
They’ve hired men with their scythes so sharp to cut him off at the knee
They’ve rolled him and tied him by the way, serving him most barbarously
They’ve hired men with their sharp pitchforks who’ve pricked him to the heart
And the loader he has served him worse than that
For he’s bound him to the cart

They’ve wheeled him around and around a field ’til they came onto a pond
And there they made a solemn oath on poor John Barleycorn
They’ve hired men with their crabtree sticks to cut him skin from bone
And the miller he has served him worse than that
For he’s ground him between two stones

And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl and his brandy in the glass
And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl proved the strongest man at last
The huntsman he can’t hunt the fox nor so loudly to blow his horn
And the tinker he can’t mend kettle or pots without a little barleycorn

Rehab  Amy Winehouse

They tried to make me go to Rehab
But I said no, no, no
Yes I’ve been black but when I come back
You’ll know, know, know
I ain’t got the time, And if my daddy thinks I’m fine
Just try to make me go to Rehab, But I won’t go, go, go

I’d rather be at home with Ray, I ain’t got seventy days
‘Cause there’s nothing, There’s nothing you can teach me
That I can’t learn from Mr. Hathaway

I didn’t get a lot in class, But I know it don’t come in a shot glass

The man said “Why you think you here?”
I said “I got no idea”
“I’m gonna, I’m gonna lose my baby”
“So I always keep a bottle near”

He said “I just think you’re depressed”
“This me, yeah baby, and the rest”

I don’t ever want to drink again
I just, ooh I just need a friend
I’m not gonna spend ten weeks
And have everyone think I’m on the mend

And it’s not just my pride
It’s just ’til these tears have dried

They tried to make me go to Rehab
But I said no, no, no
Yes I’ve been black but when I come back
You’ll know, know, know
I ain’t got the time
And if my daddy thinks I’m fine
Just try to make me go to Rehab
But I won’t go, go, go!

Detox Mansion   Warren Zevon

I’m gone to Detox Mansion, Way down on Last Breath Farm
I’ve been rakin’ leaves with Liza, Me and Liz clean up the yard
Hey!

Left my home in Music City, In the back of a limosine
Now I’m doin’ my own laundry, And I’m gettin’ those clothes clean
Mmm

Growin’ fond of Detox Mansion, And this quiet life I lead
But I’m dying to tell my story, For all my friends to read

It’s tough to be somebody, It’s hard to keep from fallin’ apart
Here on Rehab Mountain, We gonna learn these things by heart
Hey!

Well, I’m gone to Detox Mansion, Way down on Last Breath Farm
I’ve been rakin’ leaves with Liza, Me and Liz clean up the yard
Hot dog!

What goes on in Detox Mansion, Outside the rubber room
We get therapy and lectures, We play golf in the afternoon
Hey!
Yeah!

Well, it’s tough to be somebody, And it’s hard not to fall apart
Way up on Rehab Mountain,We learn these things by heart
Woo!

Ah!

Some Bartenders Have the Gift of Pardon  Mark Eitzel

Spec’s almost drowned off the coast of California, And started this museum
To help the shipwrecked remember
They grow quiet, The sea grows colder
Drinking the night away, Burn bridges grow older

Kent worked at Spec’s since 1970
Right after Haight Street finally choked on its own vomit
An impartial smile made him a gentleman
Some bartenders have the gift of pardon

A bar has a longer history than a country
What keeps the moon chained, Are ridiculous acts of faith
And after a couple of drinks, Visionary eyes all burn
The drunks seem saint-like, In their disillusion

Kent always knew the serious nature of a smile
Knew the serious nature of the job he was given
Never told himself there’s only so much a man could take on
Some bartenders have the gift of pardon

With the same old tape wearing out in the background
Billie Holiday “Solitude”
Or some sad old Irish folk songs
You’re not promised the moon
Or lied to by its distractions
You enter the world alone
And that’s the first and the last thing

It seems one night he was having a hard time falling asleep
And found himself in an accidental shipwreck
Dreaming he’s still at the bar counting sheep
The cold ocean threw its chains around his neck

Never have to worry about counterfeits at 2 a.m.
‘Cause that’s all there is
‘Cause that’s all there is
Just some old poets drinking
The last nightmare in
And the comfort of the dark
And being forgotten

Some bartenders have the gift of pardon
Some bartenders have the gift of pardon

Roadhouse Blues  The Doors

Yeah, keep your eyes on the road, your hand upon the wheel
Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel
Yeah, we’re goin’ to the Roadhouse, We’re gonna have a real
Good time

Yeah, back at the Roadhouse they got some bungalows
Yeah, back at the Roadhouse they got some bungalows
And that’s for the people, Who like to go down slow

Let it roll, baby, roll, Let it roll, baby, roll
Let it roll, baby, roll, Let it roll, all night long

Do it, Robby, do it

You gotta roll, roll, roll, You gotta thrill my soul, all right
Roll, roll, roll, roll
Thrill my soul, You gotta beep a gunk a chucha
Honk konk konk, You gotta each you puna
Each ya bop a luba
Each yall bump a kechonk, Ease sum konk
Ya, ride

Ashen lady, Ashen lady
Give up your vows, give up your vows
Save our city, save our city
Right now

Well, I woke up this morning, I got myself a beer
Well, I woke up this morning, and I got myself a beer
The future’s uncertain, and the end is always near

Let it roll, baby, roll, Let it roll, baby, roll
Let it roll, baby, roll
Let it roll, all night long

Cynical Days  XTC

Another year’s gone by, The world’s grown older,
Sometimes I heave a sigh,, People grow colder.

Every day I do my best to show,, I can make it in this world I know,
But all the bad thoughts that people bring,
My faith in human nature’s
Getting pretty thin.

Help me get through these cynical days, Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say it’s just a passing phase,
You’ve got to help me get through, these cynical days.

Another see through scheme, People are shallow.
The dark night’s closing in, My dark thoughts follow.

I try and make my world a better place,
(My efforts seem in vain),
But I’m competing in a human race,
(Falling deeper down the drain),
That value things that just don’t count,
Makes me wonder what it’s all about.

Help me get through these cynical days.
Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say it’s just a passing phase,
You’ve got to help me get through these cynical days.

Yeah, you say it’s just a passing phase,
You’ve got to help me get through these cynical days.