Smoke too Much.

This fat fool is drinking far too much, could be the fact that it’s just too damn easy, and cheap, to crack open a bottle of home brewed wine from the cupboard, could be that I have too many people around me that raise an eyebrow that indicates that just one more will do the trick, perhaps sometimes it’s me, granted, in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, raising that eyebrow, thinking that hey, one more won’t do anyone any harm and there’s 35 minutes to the end of ER and another 750ml of the red stuff would go down really well, if we drink slow...

What is the moment that you step over the line into alcoholism?, am I already there perhaps? - seems to me that I have a happy life, few money worries, a good wife, a great job, good friends. So, what the fuck is all this alcohol actually doing for me? - relaxing me?, making me cool?, making me better or stronger?, making me forget that I’m not really the person that everyone on the planet thinks I am?, making it better when little Jamies kidney transplant gets rejected or lessen the blow when Doctor Green dies after lots of headaches with his brain tumour?

I get the headaches too you know.

I think I share a lot with my favorite bloggers, Maynard and Kay, that being angst about mowing the lawn, the constant family wranglings, the good and bad faces at work and the day to day realisation that we’re not going to escape the rat race whatever we do and we’re certainly not going to get out of this life alive. That could be the reason that the mind altering qualities of the plonk make it all that much easier to take, I live to drink and I drink to live.

My mum and dad could not give up smoking, they tried to quit many times but kept returning to the smokes and it was eventually one of the prime suspects in their deteriorating health later in life, strangely enough, neither of them drank too much. I on the other hand have never really smoked but I’m quickly coming to the conclusion that this alcohol stuff is going to do me in and there’s very little I can do about it unless everyone I know, including the missus, stops drinking it. Perhaps if I’d been more careful and drank less then Doctor Romano would not have had his arm chopped off by the helicopter on the hospital roof, I’ll never know, I was looking away at the time as my glass had stuck to the coaster.

My doctor told me that I had the liver of a goose and that I should lose some weight and perhaps drink less beer and wine, I suppose it was my own fault for telling him how much I really drink and I'm going to have to be a lot more careful about full disclosure in the future as he could be taking notes and letting other people know. Doctors are like that, Ive seen them talking about us. Bastards.

It worried me a lot at the time about the goose reference and I thought it was a strange thing for him to say to me until I remembered something from way, way back in the eighties, and then it dawned on me that Doctor Green from ER was actually Mavericks co-pilot, Goose in Top Gun, and that he also came to a very sticky end with a head trauma thing (headaches) and was prevented from ever having sex with Meg Ryan again.

Coincidence?

I think not.