Thursday, March 22, 2012

Blades of Grass in Fields of Green

Whether the two are nothing more than coincidences or whether there is a causal connection between them I know not. I do know however that as I have gotten older I have consumed less alcohol. Once upon a time I viewed my "limit" and my body weight as flip sides of the same coin. I liked to drink and I fancied myself fairly good at it. As the song says, "Decide what to be and go be it."

Generally speaking, by the time I had matured enough to consider spending my life in the company of another adult, my tendency towards excessive drinking had been curbed. There were occasions however when without warning or provocation that particular demon would appear. And when it happened, less than delightful things came along with it. Being my father's son, I was the type of drunk whose emotions would run the entire spectrum as the evening progressed - starting off at the intersection of humorous/good-natured and ending up at the corner of incensed and enraged.

Occasionally life presents us with an opportunity to assess our personal growth. Monday was just such a day for me. In the realm of my day-to-day work world something was done (or more correctly not done) that really, really angered me. It did so on too many levels and for too many reasons to discuss in mixed company. It was the type of thing - being disclosed as it was before the lunch hour - that at one time would have been all that was needed for me to have taken a Mental Health Day and wandered off to a local watering hole for a Guinness or six. I am not sure what part of my brain talked the rest of me out of exploring that possibility. It might well have been the part of my brain that recognized that at some point that afternoon or perhaps that early evening I would have had to call Margaret to come get me, which would not have made her particularly happy.

Or it might have been the part of my brain that recognizes that irrespective of education, achievement and whatever third candidate you want to slot in there to complete our alliteration trifecta I am what many of us are: a cog in someone else's machine. The most exciting realization ever? Nope. Worth getting shitfaced at 1:25 on a Monday afternoon? Not even close to worth it. At one time perhaps but not now.

I feel like just another
Spoke in a great big wheel
Like a tiny blade of grass
In a great big field....


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