Product Description
Giving Up Booze For Lent
There are times in life when it’s appropriate to panic. And there are also times when panic isn’t necessary, or it’s too late anyway and would be a complete waste of time. Is it time to panic when you realise that you are middle-aged?
Imagine that you are sitting in your Doctor’s consulting rooms and he tells you that he thinks you’ve got early onset Alzheimer’s disease. Under these circumstances, panic might be understandable, or even necessary. On the other hand, if you have a deja-vu experience, when you hear this diagnosis, then there’s no need to panic.
Nothing to worry about.
What if you were driving through beautiful countryside with your wife and, as you round a bend, you see a beautiful valley, with a river running through it. Suddenly, and just for a moment, the river seems to be running uphill. Would this be a good time to panic?
Maybe.
Turning to your wife, you say, ‘Darling, look at that river, it looks like it’s running uphill. I expect it’s just a visual illusion.’ If your wife (who is really an alien from the planet Zorg and about to kidnap you and take you to another region of space time via a trans-dimensional corridor) turns to you and replies, in measured tones,
‘No, Dear, it’s not a visual illusion, it just looks like one.’ Then it’s definitely time to panic.
Is it a good time to panic if you give up booze for Lent?
I didn’t know, because I’d never done it before. It all started when I went to see my Doctor for a health check. She smiled at me unpleasantly and said that my cholesterol wasn’t too high ‘for a man of my age’. Later that day, I was beaten at tennis by a 17-year-old schoolgirl, who smiled at me and told me how well I’d played. Later still, some friends of my wife complemented me on the sensible car that I’d bought and how practical it was for family outings. Well, you know, there’s a limit to how many times in one day a middle-aged man can be dammed with faint praise and I came to the conclusion that middle-age is not all that it’s cracked-up to be.
So, I decided to give up alcohol for Lent. This diary records the events leading up to my decision and the trials and tribulations of trying to change the habits of a lifetime. It describes the clever strategies I employed to cope with life as a temporary teetotaller and all the fabulous things you can do to pass the time instead of drinking with your friends, socialising and having fun.
The booze-free life has emotional ups and downs of its own; there are vast stretches of grey blandness from one Tuesday morning to the next with no real weekend to break the monotony. ‘Do it Yourself’ activities around the house turn out to be a double-edged coping strategy and, after being traumatised by a messy encounter with the worst domestic appliance ever invented, I suffered flashbacks of embarrassing things that had happened to me in the past. Most of them involved women, of course. If there’s one thing more embarrassing than giving a lecture with your fly undone, it’s telling the truth when a woman asks you what you are thinking about.
Middle-age is a time when men are faced with some disturbing realities of ageing. There’s the ‘reverse puberty’ effect amongst other horrors. When the hair on your head starts to go grey, it looks distinguished, when hair in other places starts to go grey, it just looks old.
As time dragged on, the answers to many questions about giving up booze were gradually revealed:
When you stop drinking after 35 years, do you get withdrawal symptoms?
Does Lenten abstinence elevate you to a higher spiritual plane?
What effect does not drinking have on the BDT (‘Brewer’s Droop Threshold’)
Do you loose any weight or save any money?
Does being sober all the time affect your libido?
Do you get better at DiY?
What happens when you start drinking again?
Is it worth the effort?
To find out the answers to these questions, read my diary.
There are times in life when it’s appropriate to panic. And there are also times when panic isn’t necessary, or it’s too late anyway and would be a complete waste of time. Is it time to panic when you realise that you are middle-aged?
Imagine that you are sitting in your Doctor’s consulting rooms and he tells you that he thinks you’ve got early onset Alzheimer’s disease. Under these circumstances, panic might be understandable, or even necessary. On the other hand, if you have a deja-vu experience, when you hear this diagnosis, then there’s no need to panic.
Nothing to worry about.
What if you were driving through beautiful countryside with your wife and, as you round a bend, you see a beautiful valley, with a river running through it. Suddenly, and just for a moment, the river seems to be running uphill. Would this be a good time to panic?
Maybe.
Turning to your wife, you say, ‘Darling, look at that river, it looks like it’s running uphill. I expect it’s just a visual illusion.’ If your wife (who is really an alien from the planet Zorg and about to kidnap you and take you to another region of space time via a trans-dimensional corridor) turns to you and replies, in measured tones,
‘No, Dear, it’s not a visual illusion, it just looks like one.’ Then it’s definitely time to panic.
Is it a good time to panic if you give up booze for Lent?
I didn’t know, because I’d never done it before. It all started when I went to see my Doctor for a health check. She smiled at me unpleasantly and said that my cholesterol wasn’t too high ‘for a man of my age’. Later that day, I was beaten at tennis by a 17-year-old schoolgirl, who smiled at me and told me how well I’d played. Later still, some friends of my wife complemented me on the sensible car that I’d bought and how practical it was for family outings. Well, you know, there’s a limit to how many times in one day a middle-aged man can be dammed with faint praise and I came to the conclusion that middle-age is not all that it’s cracked-up to be.
So, I decided to give up alcohol for Lent. This diary records the events leading up to my decision and the trials and tribulations of trying to change the habits of a lifetime. It describes the clever strategies I employed to cope with life as a temporary teetotaller and all the fabulous things you can do to pass the time instead of drinking with your friends, socialising and having fun.
The booze-free life has emotional ups and downs of its own; there are vast stretches of grey blandness from one Tuesday morning to the next with no real weekend to break the monotony. ‘Do it Yourself’ activities around the house turn out to be a double-edged coping strategy and, after being traumatised by a messy encounter with the worst domestic appliance ever invented, I suffered flashbacks of embarrassing things that had happened to me in the past. Most of them involved women, of course. If there’s one thing more embarrassing than giving a lecture with your fly undone, it’s telling the truth when a woman asks you what you are thinking about.
Middle-age is a time when men are faced with some disturbing realities of ageing. There’s the ‘reverse puberty’ effect amongst other horrors. When the hair on your head starts to go grey, it looks distinguished, when hair in other places starts to go grey, it just looks old.
As time dragged on, the answers to many questions about giving up booze were gradually revealed:
When you stop drinking after 35 years, do you get withdrawal symptoms?
Does Lenten abstinence elevate you to a higher spiritual plane?
What effect does not drinking have on the BDT (‘Brewer’s Droop Threshold’)
Do you loose any weight or save any money?
Does being sober all the time affect your libido?
Do you get better at DiY?
What happens when you start drinking again?
Is it worth the effort?
To find out the answers to these questions, read my diary.
