Shortly after graduating from college,
my housemate, Gene and I would catalog our discussions on the relative merits of
various wines, domestic vs. imported, Spain vs. Chile, the similarities and
differences between Cabernet Sauvignon and Sauvignon Blanc, all this and more,
until we would have the inevitable ‘after-dinner drinks’ and discussion of this
glass and that glass and this corkscrew type vs. that corkscrew type, until in
an eventual drunken stupor, I would blackout, pass out and suffer through my
next day hangover. Hangover preventions. Hangover cures. The ins and outs of
drinking. How to become a really, really, really good drinker.
Alcohol was taking over my life in each and every form
and I didn’t even know it. I had learned more and more about scotch and wine and
beer and cocktail recipes and this glass and that glass, boiler-makers and hot
toddies and which garnish goes with which drink and on and on. More and more
knowledge about alcohol and no real knowledge of alcoholism. Generally speaking,
as I got more and more entrenched in alcoholic behavior, the more I
felt sophisticated, the less sophisticated I must have appeared. Who could see
the forest? All I saw were trees.
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 8)
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