Happy Anniversary?

I haven't had a drink in three years.

There were no emotional ultimatums, no medical or court orders, no religious conversions, no stupidities of excess that prompted me to set aside my 20-year old way of life. I'm sure a hangover had some say in the matter, but that particular teetotaling influence rarely lasts longer than the weekend, so it wouldn't have counted for much. No, I basically woke up and decided to quit.

I once went three months without drinking but a Kentucky Derby party isn't any fun without whiskey, several mint juleps, and a hat, and so ended that dry spell. I now watch the Derby quietly at home. This time, however, quitting took on a new life, thanks to a sleep disorder and a television show. I needed to see a doctor about my insomnia and I knew that I needed to be alcohol-free if anything good was to come it. A sleep test ultimately determined nothing wrong with me physiologically and a cognitive psychologist said I just needed to make more time for sleep. I quit seeing her. Well, then, back to drinking! Not so fast.

A&E's "Intervention" scared me straight. First of all, if I had a problem it wasn't nearly as bad as it is for the people profiled on that show, and I didn't want it to be. Second, the very idea of being surrounded by crying family and friends telling me how much they love me is one of the worst things I can imagine happening to me. If I can avoid emotional outpourings, I will, even if it costs me a beer.

Notice I said "If I had a problem." Family and friends alike were rather surprised when I began requesting Diet Coke instead of Coors Light. No one ever said, hinted or implied to me that, maybe, perhaps, I should stop drinking. Either they're all heavier drinkers than I was (which seems reasonable) or maybe what I thought was a problem really wasn't. The closest I've come to "relapsing" in three years is taking occasional sips of diluted champagne during toasts and a couple of Dixie-cup sized drinks of some Peachtree City concoction. We have two bottles of Vodka in the house that Ida sometimes breaks open when I'm out of town and a bottle of Jack Daniels next to the Craisins. The temptations are there but I remain steadfast. Is there a problem?

Every decision in life carries a set of pros and cons, gains and losses, and my decision to stop drinking was no exception. Among the gains are not worrying about the state of my liver; lower Applebee's checks; coherent thoughts followed by reasonable actions; playing Scrabble; the whites of my eyes are actually white; and, yes, no hangovers.

My losses are marked by the things I miss. Of course I miss the buzz, but I also miss things like the companionship and social nature of drinking; really enjoying "Cops"; popping open an ice-cold tall boy, or three; and drinking during the holidays. I miss cold beer, red wine, margaritas, Seagrams & Sprite, gin & tonics, spiked eggnog, and Bloody Mary's. I miss scotch!

I've said that if I make it to 45, I'll start drinking again, but that's four long years away. Seems kind of extreme, four more years. Then again, I kind of got a streak going here.