CLOSING TIME
Sorta Sober
Joe, please, put a cork in it
Author’s note: This piece originally appeared in my Substack, Sherry Raw, and was written before the attempted crucifixion of the Right’s Messiah, and his subsequent choice of redneck “author” and junior senator from Ohio, J.D. Vance.
Throughout my life, I’ve never said, nor believed, that someone is “too old” to do something, whether that be to achieve a goal or chase a dream. Never. Until now. I’ll expound on this in a minute.
I’ve been chronicling my attempt to abstain from drinking too much alcohol — not quit, mind you — but tone it down to a more moderate, and safer level.
As I’ve recently been reflecting on my reasons for drinking, the number one being I fucking like it, especially the near-instant mental and emotional novocaine that accompanies a good belt, I can’t ignore the changes in my body as I age. I can’t ignore that drinking to excess will shorten my life.
I can’t ignore the fact that hangovers require a longer ‘recovery” period — even the low-grade ones. And, again, despite my being fit, the booze, if not enjoyed as it should be, in moderation, can have a kick.
I’m sharing this because, as I contemplate a world, a life, where a convicted felon could quite possibly blow up everything…
