Well, friends and gentle readers, the holidays are upon us, complete with carols, presents, the fat man, and – for some of us – copious cups of Christmas cheer. In past years, you would find me on or around this date making a list and checking it twice, for the purpose of stashing my cupboard with libations of various types: vodka, gin, tequila, the spectrum of wine shades, scotch…you know, that sort of thing. Oh yes, a nice cognac or/and a thin bottle of Calvados might be in order as well. And good vermouth for martinis! I make mine with a healthy splash of vermouth, so it has to be the good stuff. My dear wife enjoys a sip of Bailey’s Irish Cream on Christmas morning along with whatever the elves have placed under the tree for her, so there would be some of that as well. From time to time, I might even mull some wine. If you have been to my home over the holidays and you went home thirsty, it wasn’t my fault. 

I’m not sure exactly how to put this, other than to come straight out with it:  I will enjoy the holidays differently this year. That is to say, they will include decidedly less alcohol consumption than in previous years.  There, I said it; the secret is out. I have quite nearly quit drinking. 

A few months ago, my doctor (a cardiologist by trade) mentioned in passing that at least one critical function of my blood pumper was “sub-optimal,” and that we would therefore be commencing on a journey to gather more data and determine how best to ameliorate the situation. He also mentioned (almost parenthetically) that alcohol use could be a factor, but that we would wait and see what the tests said before taking further action.  While I was too ashamed to admit it out loud, my inner angel (who bears a significant resemblance to my mother) scowled and tsked-tsked me, as I had fairly significantly under-reported my weekly alcohol consumption on the check-in paperwork. I had a pretty good hunch he had put his finger on the pulse of the problem  (and being a cardiologist, that is sort of his job). 

I am disinclined to over-share the details on account of really hating to be an abstinence bore, but I have significantly reduced my boozing in the four months since, and currently enjoy five dry days a week, with moderated consumption on the other two days. Prior to this, I can’t remember how long it had been since a single day passed without a drink, but it was probably at least a decade. Any doofus could have concluded that drinking the way I was would eventually catch up to me in some fashion. However, those of us who have a habit like this seldom take advice from any old doofus, however possessed of common sense they might be. I went to the doctor regularly and all my blood tests came back fine. My liver worked; I had reversed pre-diabetes by cutting down on ice cream and cookies; I was never hungover, etc., etc., etc. Everything was fine, except for a creeping waistline that resisted reduction despite hours upon hours at the gym. My blood pressure was a little high, but easily controlled with a couple of very small pills. The atrial fibrillation I  treated 15 years ago has been a non-issue since. When it came to drinking, it appeared I wore Superman’s cape. And I was proud of that fact.  

Jump cut:  the good news is that it appears as though moderation works for me. A second echo cardiogram taken six weeks after pumping the brakes on my boozing revealed that my heart now ejects blood at the proper fraction. Lucky me! I don’t need a pacemaker, more drugs, or any other questionable interventions. All I had to do was quit drinking most of the time (Sarcasm Meter™️ engaged). If you know me, you know that taking a drink at the end of a long day of meeting donors, sending emails, and writing reports was a pleasant way to smooth off the rough edges of what (for me) was a bristly business. The tinkling music of ice cubes in a silver metal shaker, a burble of Bombay Sapphire gin, and a healthy splash of Noilly Prat vermouth was as pleasant a chord as any created by John, Paul, or George (and I like to think that Ringo would have appreciated my approach to mixing a martini). Shaken, not stirred, with a full skewer of olives.  I even have a splendid and revered collection of glass olive skewers and fancy martini glasses. Hey, when I’m in, I’m all in.  

My new routine allows me one martini a week, or perhaps a couple of glasses of wine with weekend meals. Given my former habits, I might as well be pouring my libations into a thimble. However (and this is a big however), my enjoyment factor of that single drink is quite off the charts. What used to require a good two or three  sizeable wallops to engage that enjoyment is now accomplished in a similar number of sips. And since I am no longer going through wine at anywhere near my former pace, I now allow myself a higher grade of grape. When a bottle lasts a week, you can drink way, way better than Trader Joe’s cardboard box wine. Not that there is anything wrong with Trader Joe’s, mind you. But the words of friend who owned a wine shop ring in my ear: when asked about TJ’s box wine he winced slightly and commented, “It is fairly priced.”  

I pen these lines with no little trepidation, as I know and love people for whom moderation does not work and I don’t want to step on their feelings. Their lives literally depend upon not taking so much as a sip. Some cannot even manage an alcohol-free beer – alcohol-free meaning less than .05% – so not technically alcohol free, although I have no idea how one’s body or brain discerns such a miniscule amount. But we all have our limits, and if your limit is really none, then you are better off with none. I feel hugely fortunate that I am (at least for the time being) able to live with moderation.  

As is often the case, my own thoughts on this subject are echoed (not to mention articulated better) by the late, great Jim Harrison, who also had to significantly rein in his Olympian alcohol utilization. Via Men’s Journal, Jim shared the following 13 thoughts, based on his experience and imagination:  

1. Drinking causes drinking.  Heavy drinking causes heavy drinking.  Light drinking causes light drinking. 
2. The ability to check yourself moment by moment has been discussed at length by wise folks from the old Ch’an master of China all the way down to Ouspenskii. This assumes a willingness to be conscious.
3. The reason to moderate is to avoid having to quit, thus losing a pleasure that’s been with us forever. 
4. We don’t have much freedom in this life, and it is self-cruelty to surrender a piece of what we have because we can’t control our craving.
5. Measurement is all. A one-ounce shot delivers all the benefits of a three-ounce shot. A couple of the latter turn one into a spit-dribbler. Spit-dribblers frighten children and make everyone else nervous.  
6. With any sedative there is a specific, roomy gap between smoothing-out and self-destruction. There is no self-destruction without the destruction of others. We are not alone. 
7. Naturally there are special occasions. When you get older like me, it’s once a month, if that.  
8. It’s hard to determine pathology in a society in which everything is pathological. The main content of our prayers should be for simple consciousness. The most important thing we can do is to find out what ails us and fix it. Often we need outside counsel, for clarity and to speed up the process.  
9. A lot of overdrinking comes from feeling bad physically. One over-drinks to feel better in physiological terms. This can be avoided by vitamins, exercise, and a reasonable diet. Again, it’s a cycle: Overdrinking causes overdrinking because you feel bad.  
10. Another source of the problem is the unreasonable expectations we get from others and ourselves. Unreasonable expectations can be removed by thinking them over. They can’t be “drownt,” pure and simple.  Everyone can’t get to the top, or even the middle. 
11. Oddly enough, our main weapons in controlling drinking are humor and lightness. The judgment of others and self-judgment (stern) are both contraindicated. When we fuck up, we mentally beat ourselves up. It doesn’t work at all and has to be expunged. The reason to slow down is to feel better, and it works real good.  
12. You begin by cutting it all by a third. After a few weeks you go down to a half. After that your soul will tell you, when you listen. Often it is simply a matter of one drink too many.  
13. We need always to separate the problem of virtue from the problem of lack of control.  Certain countries – France, for example – drink more alcohol but have fewer problems.  This is partly due to the predominance of wine, which has less of a stun-gun effect on behavior, but also because drinking isn’t connected to virtue or non-virtue.  It is a practical problem.  Drinking has to be strictly self-controlled the moment it negatively affects our character and behavior.

There you have thirteen observations about modulated drinking by a guy who would certainly know, based on his considerable experience, offered for your consideration. Though encapsulated in just a few lines, there is a lot of wisdom to unpack here, and each point probably merits a chapter or more of elaboration.  But this is maybe one of those times when less is more.  Just like drinking.  

John’s Classic Martini

My Dad wasn’t much of a Martini guy (he liked his Old-Fashioned) but since his middle name was Martin, I offer this in his honor:  

1.5 oz Bombay Sapphire gin

.5 oz Noilly Pratt vermouth 

Skewer full of green olives, preferably stuffed with blue cheese (not anchovies, ish)

Fill a shaker with ice and splash in the gin and vermouth. The 3:1 ratio is critical. This fad of the “dry” where one rinses out the glass with vermouth is basically a glass of cold gin.  That’s fine if that is what you want.  But a martini is way better than chilled gin.  

Shake that moneymaker. Shake it hard.  I know there are people who think this bruises the gin, but I have experience in this area and I can tell you that if it bruises, it’s not in a bad way. The key is that you want tiny shards of ice in your drink that will very subtly water down the drink. The effect here is the same as with Scotch, which any Scotsman will tell you should be served with a splash of cool water (the problem with neat Scotch is a story for another day).  

Pour the drink into a suitably fancy triangular shaped glass or perhaps a coupe and finish with the skewered olives. If you are feeling a bit contrary, finish with some pickled onions on that skewer.  Voila, your Martini becomes a Gibson.   

Here is a suitable tune, served with a side shot of irony:

Amanda Anne Platt and the Honeycutters – Let’s Get Drunk

Cheers.