Vol. 83 - Have a Peaceful Hangover

On drinking to excess... or not.

Good morning and Happy New Year.

It’s 8am on New Year’s Day as I write this. I’m battling a ferocious hangover. Perhaps you are, too. And if you, like me, are in your forties, you know these hangovers get worse with each passing decade. It was worth it; a party at a neighbor’s house with too much Prosecco and great conversation to ring in the New Year (at 9pm, of course).

Mornings like this were quite common for most of my twenties and early thirties, the years I spent working in the booze-soaked record industry. They’re far less common now, as I hardly drink anymore.

To wit, someone brought over a four-pack of Belgian beer for the Hanukkah party we hosted nearly a month ago. All four beers are still in our fridge, untouched. Beside them are at two bottles of Prosecco and a bottle of white wine, all of which have been there for weeks, remnants of a few of the other holiday parties we’ve hosted in the last month or so. On our counter, a bottle of bourbon and a few spirits that have been there for months. In our freezer, a nearly year-old bottle of vodka.

There are a few reasons for my borderline teetotaling.

First is what I call an “unhealthy relationship with alcohol.” I don’t have a drinking problem, per se. That is, I can go weeks, sometimes months without a drink. And I can easily have one or two beers without getting loaded. My problem is that third drink. Because once I have three drinks, I have thirteen. There is no in between for me. Never has been. Maybe I do have a drinking problem. Luckily, I’m a sleepy drunk, so drinking to excess has never gotten me in trouble. Still, it’s just easier for me to not drink.

Second is the fact that, like many of us, when I drink, I smoke. For years, I was a smoker and kicking the habit was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. And now that I’m off smokes—and have been for years—I’d really rather not get back on. Because if I’m drinking, I’m smoking.

The third reason I barely drink anymore is that ever since I started drinking when I was a teenager, I’ve suffered absolutely horrible hangovers. I think it’s just something I’m chemically predisposed for. Anything beyond one drink and most of the following day is a struggle for me. Which ties neatly into my final reason.

And that is the fact I can’t be the kind of dad I want to be when I’m battling a hangover. My temper is short, my focus nonexistent. All of that leads to a person who can be mean and impatient. And if there’s one essential trait to being a good parent, it’s patience.

I realized this when my son was an infant. Back then, my favorite little dive bar-slash-rock club in Chapel Hill announced they were closing. Emily assured me that she would handle the night with our new baby so that I could go enjoy one last show at the club (which was thankfully saved at the eleventh hour by a group of local women and is still open today).

Emily made no such assurances for the following morning, however, and she very much needed me to be a dad to our then four-month-old. What followed was one of the longest and most brutal days of my life, easily one of my toughest as a father.

“I’m not drinking ‘til he’s thirty,” I said at some point that morning, my mouth as dry as a desert.

And, though I have drank plenty in the five-and-a-half-years that have followed, I consume roughly one-hundred-times less alcohol than I did when I wasn’t a father.

To be clear, this isn’t some motivational post about the bennies of cutting booze out of your life. You do you. Do I feel better when I don’t drink? Absolutely. Do I even like alcohol? Not really. I like drinking because I like getting drunk with my friends, full stop. (Side note: a neighbor recently asked me what my drink-of-choice was and I reflexively said “cream soda.” He had a hard time understanding that I don’t actually like alcoholic drinks.)

But those mornings after (and afternoons after, and evenings after… and sometimes the mornings after that) create a person who is incapable of being a fully present and fully patient father. And for that reason, more than all the others, there is some truth to my proclamation about not drinking until my kids are thirty.

Not the whole truth, of course. But certainly a little bit.

Happy New Year. I hope you all have the best year of your lives!