I havenÂ’t had a drink since New YearÂ’s Eve.
Of alcohol, obviously, IÂ’m not a camel.
I usually go on the wagon for January as I am sick of booze after the excesses of December and generally I am starting work on something and itÂ’s good not to be hampered by the hangovers.
For the first two or three weeks I am an evangelical teetotaller. ItÂ’s great to feel healthy and clear-headed and to not do or say any of the stupid things you do or say when youÂ’re pissed.
But around about now I start to feel very boring and restricted and in real need of going out and getting bladdered and saying and doing stupid things, with the valid get out clause of being blotto. Cos it’s a great excuse, “Sorry, about last night.I was drunk.” As if when you started drinking red wine like it was cherry-ade you hadn’t realised what the effects would be. “My goodness, I behaved like an arse. I have no idea what could have caused it. Wait a moment, you don’t think it was this red stuff do you? Yes thinking about it, I did start to feel a little queer after the third bottle.”
I was thinking of giving up for two months (I did last year) but I have a feeling that I may be persuaded to have a vodka or two after the gigs this weekend.
The devil on my shoulder is starting to drown out the angel. In fact the imp has just made the excellent point that Jesus himself was very fond of a drink (his enemies called him a winebibber, remember). The cherub is now blustering. He’s flustered. It’s not looking good. To criticise booze-hounds would be to have a go at his boss’s son. Let’s face it, the kid will be in charge one day, the old man can’t hang around forever. The angel is saying “That’s hardly the point. If Jesus told you to go and jump in a lake, would you do it?”
“I’d have to wouldn’t I? That’s the whole point. If I had enough faith I’d be able to walk on the water with him.”
“Oh shit, yeah. Ummmm…..”
Throughout all history the people in charge have told us to do one thing, whilst wilfully doing the opposite themselves.
And the pantomime demon is laughing away. HeÂ’s telling me thereÂ’s some vodka in the freezer right now. I donÂ’t have to do any work today. IÂ’m self employed.
“Go on, Rich. Drink it! DRINK it. If you drink alone in the daytime then you don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of other people. So you’ll keep your self-respect.”
“But I need to write my book about cocks.”
“Write it drunk. You’re much funnier when you’re drunk anyway. Everyone says so.”
ItÂ’s a very persuasive argument. I do FEEL funnier when IÂ’m pissed
“No wait, you’re trying to trick me too, Satan. How unlike you. I’m very disappointed in you.” The devil is looking a little shame-faced, but he’s got a bit of a grin on his face too. He’s such a loveable rogue. You can’t stay mad at him for long.
“I knew you’d see sense,” says the angel sanctimoniously, “That’s right. Don’t drink, work hard on your book about cocks…. Oh hold on. I’m not sure how the big guy would feel about that. Why not write a book about parsimony instead?”
"Parsimony?"
"Yeah, I don't really know what it is either. It was the first thing that came into my head and it sounds really holy."
“You can both shut up. The problem with you shoulder angels and devils is that you are both so extreme."
Why can’t I have a couple of shoulder normal blokes? You know who can give me two balanced and less fanatical opinions. One might say, “Look there’s nothing wrong with drinking in moderation, why not limit yourself to a couple of glasses of wine a night. Then you won’t feel left out, but you won’t embarrass yourself or get a hangover.” The other might then interject “Yeah, Simon, that’s not a bad idea. But I think Rich is one of those guys who likes to drink to get drunk, so whilst not knocking your good idea, I would suggest that Rich maybe just drinks on Friday and Saturday nights, you know, when he probably won’t have to work in the morning.”
“That’s a good plan too, Pete. But you know, if he feels like having a small drink on a Wednesday he shouldn’t beat himself up about it.”
“Absolutely not. But you know Rich, you don’t have to listen to us imaginary, shoulder, normal blokes. You’re 35, you’re old enough to make these decisions for yourself.”
But your imagination wouldnÂ’t employ the shoulder normal blokes. Like a daytime TV producer your imagination will only employ people with the most zealous opinions. And if they are prepared to dress up in a ridiculous costume all the better.
Which is a shame, cos Pete and Simon were talking a lot of sense.
I might ask them if they fancy coming out for a drink with me tonight.
