BEYOND REASON

 

So January is many things but I think the word most people use to describe it is “long”. Yes, technically it’s tied for the longest month of the year with others but I’d like to see any other month look hard and long into the cold, grey eyes of January and see who blinks first.

Naturally, during the longest month of the year, people, being the brilliant species that came up with hard seltzer, put that same kind of mental acumen to work and eureka – Dry January! As you may know, Dry January is the one month of the year when many people who normally partake in the stuff go without booze for the month.

No beer. No wine. No spirits. No Mai Tais (2 oz. rum, ¾ oz. lime juice, ¾ oz. orgeat syrup, ½ oz. orange liquor, mint). The most challenging thing to avoid, of course, is the hard seltzer. Not because it’s tempting. But because it’s everywhere. Hard seltzer is the drink of choice for the undiscerning, someone who wants to forgo an opinion, a palate, and the respect of his peers.

Dry January folks are subsequently left with quite a bit of free time and some wonder: What can I do instead of drink?

Well, there are, of course, plenty of things to do instead of drink. Many things. A wide range of things. Small things. Big things. Just regular-sized things. Umm… Nothing is coming to me right this second… But there are good and great things ahead!

Oh, the things you will do!

One thing you can do when you’re not drinking a Margarita (2 oz. tequila, 1 oz. lime juice, 1 oz. Cointreau) is learn a new language. Try French. Steve Martin said it best: It’s like those French have a different word for anything. Plus, it will come in handy if you’re in France and want to order a French 75 (1 oz, gin, ½ oz. lemon juice, 2 dashes simple syrup, 2 oz. champagne).

Another thing you can do when you’re not drinking a Martini (2.5 oz of gin, ½ oz dry vermouth, dash of orange bitters, garnish with twist of lemon or olive) is whittle! You can whittle a little or a lot, depending on how much you tipple. If you have a little time to whittle, you might want to whittle something little, like, say, an ashtray. Or a pipe. When’s the last time you whittled a pipe? That’s what I thought. If you’re a heavy drinker, you might want to whittle something bigger. Maybe a likeness of Paul Bunyan. Or a boat.

You know what else you can do when you’re not drinking a Manhattan (2 oz. rye, ¾ oz. sweet red vermouth, dash Angostora bitters, garnish with cherry)? You can knit! Grab that ball of yarn back from your cat. She’s had it long enough. Grab a thimble from your old monopoly set (it’s gone from the new versions) and you can knit, say, a hat. Or a scarf. I believe some people knit even sweaters. But probably best to start with something that has a margin for error. Like an ashtray. Or a pipe.

A thing I like to do when I’m not drinking a Sazerac (1½ oz. rye, ¼ oz. absinthe, 1 sugar cube, 3 dashes Peychaud’s bitters) is look up the difference between crochet and knitting. They’re not the same. At all.

A thing you might consider when you’re not enjoying a Gimlet (2 oz. gin, 1 oz. lime juice, ½ oz. simple syrup) is read… wait for it… a book! I remember really going in for books before I had children. So many memories. They’re vague, now, of course. It’s been a long time but I remember being very fond of books. I remember the variety. I also remember being impressed, moved, and even on occasion, blown away by mere words. I remember smiling at a certain turn of phrase. I remember characters overcoming obstacles in things called stories. Great stories! Alas, I cannot think of any particular story right now with my kids loudly trying to harm themselves in the next room. But take it from me, books are a thing you can do.

One thing to try when you’re not drinking an Aviation (1.5 gin, ½ oz. lemon juice, ½ oz. of Maraschino liqueur, ½ oz. of crème do violette) is stargazing. Stargazing involves looking at the night sky, figuring out where the big dipper is, and wondering why we never use the word “dipper” in any other part of our life. “Honey, I’m going to the pool for a big dipper.” “Honey, I want some soup but I can’t find the little dipper.”

One thing I do when not sipping on a Negroni (1 oz. Campari, 1 oz. gin, 1 oz. sweet vermouth) is just pace about. In the old days, I could really pace about outside the hospital room while the wife was delivering. Nowadays they want you in the room so there’s no time to really work on your gait. So get up and pace, man. You will know when you’re doing it right when someone compares you to a caged tiger.

Finally, the thing I really like to do when I’m not drinking a Boulevardier (1 ½ oz. rye, 1 oz. Campari, 1 oz. sweet wed vermouth) is write. Some may say that I write this column. Ha! I wish. This column is not writing. This column is a thought experiment, an aperitif that thinks it’s an entrée, a first draft in search of a red pen. This column is a four-volume epic that should be a post-it note.

I’ve had to endure complaints about this column while sipping on a Daiquiri (1 ½ oz white rum, 1 oz. lime juice, ½ oz. simple syrup). I was going to read your column but then I saw all those words. Yes, fair enough, Greg. Mark Twain once said to his mother, “I didn’t have time to write you a short letter so I wrote you a long one instead.” That’s how I feel about this column. I would have made it shorter but my children are clamoring for “an upbringing”. I didn’t know my three-year-old knew that word. It’s almost enough to drive one to break the Dry January fast with a Scotch (2-3 oz. Scotch), neat or on the rocks.