Wednesday, August 5, 2009


I went out for dinner the other night with some friends of my wife. People
she knows, but hasn't seen since law school. These folks live in Southern California, but they keep and apartment on the Upper East Side, where the wife spends a lot of time.
SHe says she hates the West Coast and got a place here, on the same floor of the same building as her High School best friend whom also joined all of us for dinner.

Anyway- these folks were real lushes. All three of them probably have 5-10 years on me and my wife but they still drink like they are still in school. We met a restaurant where the waiters and bar tenders all knew them. And they all kept on ordering different colorful concoctions
to drink. Much of the conversation was about law school folks whom I never ever heard of, but also there were discussions of bars around town and bar tenders. They had bar tenders who not only knew their drinks, but also their drinking rules (Gin during the day light hours for example). Total alcoholics! People after my own heart. I sat there and pounded my seltzers one -after-another hoping to get some kind of buzz or something. The drinks kept on coming along with bottles of wine and many courses of food.

I told these folks about how I had been so sick as a dog last summer and how I had to give up drinking and smoking because my liver was not working and I made sure they knew
that even though I haven't had a drink in a long while, I still held drunks in the highest regard. And that even though I still haven't had a drink since my liver came through it's full recovery, I wasn't some New-Born-postalcoholic -program thumping whiner. I still miss the bar culture....

Then I told them the little story about my son, whom while walking over to the comic book store with me recently , told me that he "missed the drunk Dad..."
I told them that I asked my kid what exactly he missed about that version of me, and he said that I always seemed "to be fat and happy..."

I swear the women were almost in tears. A white sparkle came from the wife's eye.

Before I used to run around all the time drinking and smoking like there was no tomorrow, up until I got really sick and thought that maybe my time was up.
That maybe there really was no tomorrow. THank god I am healthy, but I missed the old care free days. I just wish that all that care free and easy living wasn't so hard on my body, not to mention my check book.


Lorrie Veasey said...

You should have called these people at 7 am the next day after they had hung out all night worshipping at the porcelain altar. Then you could have really reminisced about the old bar hopping days.

BTW- You never blog about us. I feel inferior.

david kramer said...

I have blogged about you at least once. Let me say this-
you guys are wonderful alcoholics!