I joke so often about alcohol or alcohol consumption that some could assume I drink a lot and drink often. When I've been asked what my favorite drink was I've been known to respond with "alcohol." It is true that I partied three to four times a week for weeks, months, then years at a time, but I was in my twenties.
In no way am I saying that I haven't had some spectacular benders, such as certain national conferences and having flashbacks to really exuberant dance moves (spinning? really?) on the dance floor. Thank every god that there weren't any pictures. I hope. Another time was challenging a boss to those bouncy blow-up obstacle courses after having three or five martinis. I whooped his ass, but had to make a bee-line for the men's bathroom where I threw up, rinsed my mouth, wiped my face, felt better, and went for another drink or three. There would be world peace if conferences were mandatory and the social/dancing events kept the liquor and music flowing well past midnight. Another time, in the heart of Mormondom, I went streaking through the Murray cemetery. With the same group of friends, we did the same thing at Snowbird, running down the halls to the elevator and down to the lobby then all the way back up to our room.
Unfortunately, some will remember an early bender: the Silver sisters episode at Neener's wedding party, where half the crowd was her friends and family, and half the crowd was the groom's law enforcement friends and family. Neener's sister and I dressed up in matching silver outfits of her in a dress and me in a silver ski parka, silver boots, purple and sun-flowered leggings, and our hair wrapped up in silver lamé caftans. With ghetto-blaster in tow, we lip-synced our way through the house to Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive." By all rights, I could have been shot dead by all the uber-testosterone laden and manly cops present, but everyone had a good time. Or so I've been told. Unfortunately, there were pictures of this event and I will never be able to run for President. Dammit.
If and when I do drink now, it's socially, and it's not to the point that I'm fall-down drunk - or anywhere close to that. I drink for the shared ambiance, for the taste of the drink itself, and for relaxing enough to not take life or myself so seriously. If my "sin" of the Enneagram is gluttony then my spiritual path is sobriety, which, loosely defined is seeing things/myself/life for that which they are instead of experiencing through the glamour of how I'd like things/myself/life to be. I don't need alcohol to enhance or detract from life's lessons. My name is Don, and I'm not an alcoholic.