NOTES FROM CAPTIVITY: DRY JANUARY

I’m only a few days into Dry January, and I’ve already become everything I hate: A “reformed drinker”. I say only a few days, because I waited until the 4^th to get dry – seemed like the patriotic thing to do.

I’m already feeling morally superior to shoppers buying beer and/or wine at the store – they strike me as even weaker than the “no maskers”. And how weak are those who have to have an IPA (on tap) when they go out to eat? (Thank God, we’re back in home lockdown, and it’s too cold to eat outside). And today I volunteered as a virtual guest speaker at a local grade school, which the teacher introduced as “scared straight”, whatever that means. With the right Zoom background lighting you can frighten kids out of anything.

But my proudest accomplishment? I proved that a man can grill without drinking beer. I’m not sure I ever want to go through that again…

But there is a pecking order even among “Reformed Drinkers”. My captor ‘got dry’ on the first, and acts superior to me as a result.  I quickly gave up on “I’m x days dry” today, because her response was “Is that all?”

And while the ‘loose lockdown’ has limited our social drinking options – bars aren’t safe, restaurants aren’t safe, eating in our own kitchen isn’t safe – I thought it would be prudent to eliminate temptation at home. I initially removed all the beer from our home, but out of an abundance of caution have now also removed our refrigerators. And living without refrigeration isn’t that tough. We are once again preserving our meat in layers of salt, canning peaches, and eating a lot of dried figs. Good prep for when the next hurricane takes out our power for a few days.

Net net, a dreary proposition that I guess I can deal with for a month. And is there a better month for dreary propositions than January?

A constructive suggestion: I know that those who were “the Resistance” are now yearning for unity – well, what if the country unified in its dislike of January? It has to be the least appealing, least favorite month, and I don’t know anyone who looks forward to it. When you think of January, you think of cold, short days, and no drinking. It finally got a holiday, but missed the chance to time it the day after the Super Bowl, when the country really needs a day off. And why not make January 28 days, February 31 and shorten our suffering?

January Is what it must be like to live in Russia – cold, gray, bleak days with no distractions other than cheating on the Olympics doping tests. At least they can deal with their dreariness through vodka, and those great looking fur caps. And dreaming of some day getting an NFL franchise.

And the poor folks who have January birthdays – – got everything they really wanted for Christmas, and only the picked over merchandise is available for their gifts.

If all this sounds like complaining I’m sorry, but it’s not. I’m attaching a link to complaining.com so you can tell the difference.

Though I really have nothing else to do – other than to return to the couch – I will close now. If you don’t hear from me soon, it means I’m taking a nap until February.