On Tolerance

From the title of the post you might be thinking that I'll be lecturing people about accepting everyone as they are and cooperating to make this world a better place. You might especially assume this if you have been reading or participating in the recent debates on Anne's blog, where the topics of "craziness" and "big boy beds" have incited near riots. But I'm actually writing on something much more important. Alcohol.

When I was younger, say around 19-21, I could drink 8 beers and a couple of mixed drinks, fall asleep on somebody's kitchen floor with a sombrero on around 3:00 am, and wake up around 8:00 am and go for a jog. Perhaps it was because I was partying with a bunch of guys at an all guys school, but I felt like I had to keep up. And keep up I did. After the Wabash days, I furthered my drinking career by becoming the Irish Car Bomb drinking champ. This is a title I still hold today, and although I drink considerably less, I plan to defend it until death or pregnancy. Though it has a crude name, the concoction is quite a good if you imbibe it quickly enough. If you don't drink it quickly enough, it becomes a demon in a glass. This drink consists of a Guinness, a half shot of Irish whiskey and a half shot of Irish cream. When quaffed correctly it tastes like an alcoholic chocolate milkshake. When consumed incorrectly it tastes and looks like expired chocolate cottage cheese. Now, obviously, I've never seen myself drink one of these things, but I've heard I'm fast. I have, however, seen my biggest competition, Grant Freeman and my own cousin Matthew Arnett, drink one. I am amazed at the speed with which they drink, and if I can consistently beat them, then I must really have an amazing talent. Some people have genius IQs, some people can drink beer really fast. All talents are God-given, right? That's what I keep telling myself.

I have to insert at this point that after my college partying days, I never strove to "get drunk". This is a mortal sin and by the time I turned 22, I realized it. So if you drink and can't be drunk, how do you monitor yourself? There are many names for the point of non-drunkenness. I call it the "grey area". This is the large area between sober and drunkenness that you can rightfully stay in without shaming yourself. John Russell calls it the "point of hilarity". This is where you drink until you are in good spirits, but you stop once you are at that point.

Now I am at the ripe old age of almost 26, and I can count the times I have consumed more than one drink in a sitting on one hand, no maybe one ands a half hands, in the past year. I just don't like drinking all that much anymore. A statement like this would get my Catholic card revoked in many communities and parishes, so I have kept this a secret for a bit. I mean, what's the point of drinking? If I am only going to have one drink, then it just amounts to extra calories. If I have more then that, I risk drunkenness. Further, I say stupid things, embarrass myself, and trip over stuff daily. I don't need alcohol to help me do that anymore.

And with this revelation, my tolerance has taken a huge hit over the years. In fact, I had four drinks last night over the course of 6 or 7 hours. This morning I woke up convinced that a little man with a jackhammer had started a construction project on my skull. While trying to block out the pulse-like throbbing in my head, I reflected on my earlier days when last night's expedition would have been considered "pre-gaming" for the real party. This brought on equal parts of awe and horror.

I am so glad I don't drink like I did in college. It's funny to say it that way because I have only been out of college for three months. Perhaps I should say "early college". Alcohol has lots of empty calories, it is bad for organs(internal and musical. Don't ask.), and it usually makes me look like an even bigger idiot than I already am. And I say all of this knowing full well that I will drink, probably right up the the edge of the grey-black area, at the party tonight. See you there!