Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Re-Praising Sobriety
I would like to re-visit a post I created almost 2 years ago, on the subject of abstinence from alcohol, sharing it here again today. I am lucky to enjoy pretty limited exposure to situations that include other people drinking to a point of becoming a bit too chatty and inaccurate, beginning to slur their words a bit. On the unlucky occasions when I do find myself stuck in such a situation, I find that I end up with my own version of a hangover. It is the residual discomfort that lingers for a day or few, left from the angst I experience in such moments. The person’s true spirit seems to vanish in the situation, and a milky stranger takes possession, blaring the pall of their artificial joviality to everyone in earshot, whether welcomed, or not.
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From December, 2010.
I love everything about abstinence from alcoholic beverages.
I love the freedom to choose to be totally wild, crazy, and silly at (mostly) appropriate times, with the equal ability to employ my maximum acuity in a moments notice.
I love partying in the company of my sober friends.
I love the absence of alcohol-induced melodrama.
I love that sobriety doesn’t have to be kept away from children.
I love that sobriety isn’t banned from the workplace.
I love that it isn’t against the law to drive sober.
I love that I don’t have the expense of purchasing alcohol.
I love that I never care whether alcohol is served at any event I attend.
I love that the absence of alcohol will never keep me from attending any event.
I love that not allowing myself the health benefits reportedly available from moderate consumption of alcohol has yet to cause me any ill effects.
I love that the practice of abstaining from alcoholic beverages is referred to as teetotalism, a movement that was first started in Preston, England in the early 19th century.
I love learning of notable others who are teetotalers, such as the voice of Homer Simpson, Dan Castellaneta, and the current Vice President of the United States, Joe Biden.
I love not needing to battle the dehydration caused by alcohol, especially since I have enough trouble maintaining optimal hydration sans the ethanol.
I love that my friends and family never need to question whether I am intoxicated, or not.
I love that my friends and family never need to worry about the possibility that I may drive drunk.
I love never needing to think about whether I have enough food in my stomach to slow the absorption of alcohol into my cells.
I love never having the urge to drink more than one glass of anything other than water when in social situations
I love having control over my speech and balance.
I love the absence of recovery facilities aimed at helping people overcome problems with their sobriety.
I love behaving with decency in the presence of law enforcement officials performing their duties to uphold the law.
I love being aware of how I behaved the night before.
I love that the beverages I drink allow me to maintain peaceful behavior, even if I drink too much. Granted, I may appear brusque in my urgency to reach the rest room.
I love everything about abstinence from alcoholic beverages.
More and more, I find I dearly love the company of others who choose abstinence, as well.
.
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Evening
.
.
evening darkness
settles in gradually
early in September
late in the summer
and the sound of little girls
playing together in their yard
bouncing on the trampoline
planning, plotting
joyfully giggling together
vanishes
in a blink
replaced by the familiar
nonstop chorus of crickets
an occasional car
and the distant drumming
of the high school marching band
practicing this week’s routine
.
.
.
Like Thanks
Glory be! Yesterday the dew point temperature dropped into the 40s (F) and the air temperature into the mid 60s. It is about as pleasant as can possibly be around here. When the worst of summer heat and humidity arrives early and lingers long, with nary a break, it makes the eventual days of relief feel like miracles of refreshment.
It brings to mind how refreshing is the treat of discovering surprises in my email indicating someone I have never met has offered a token of appreciation. Here’s to you all!
Paintless
.
‘
nice
can hide
in plain sight
and be missed
by the targets
who dodge
good intentions
and wallow
in the misery of choice
comfortable
in their discomfort
defying logic
to the point
illogic becomes
the north on their compass
and health, a lost art
which is just fine
since they long ago
ran out of paint
.
.
Relative Something 