Opinion by William Wilczewski
(Special note to reader: If you are 20 years of age or
younger, please turn the page or give this column to your father or mother, but
certainly don’t take it seriously …)
(Extra special note to other readers: If you are 21 years
of age or older, then read this column, take it to heart with more than a dash
of humor, but certainly don’t take it too seriously, either, because
over-indulging in alcohol is not only bad for your health, but when combined
with getting behind the wheel can be deadly for yourself and others …)
When this time of year rolls
around, I usually think of two things.
1.) As a huge football fan, I
love Super Sunday. It’s one of the best days on Planet Sport.
2) Why is it always on Sunday,
though? Because I hate going to work that following Monday.
You know, the dry throat, upset
stomach and the feeling of a drum set being played behind your eyeballs.
Yep, you guessed it … the
dreaded hangover!
I hate to say that I’ve shared
time with this fiend in the past, but I have, so with experience comes
knowledge. And with knowledge comes the responsibility of passing it on to
others.
Having said that—and this is not
a new idea in the journalism field by any stretch of the imagination—here is my
take on what a hangover is, how to avoid one (which is key) and if you can’t
avoid one, what to do when the devil knocks on your door.
I say devil because if you’ve
ever had a hangover, you know what over-imbibing on adult liquid refreshments
can do to every inch and ounce of your body and soul.
If you haven’t, PLEASE, FOR THE
LOVE OF EVERYTHING THAT’S HOLY, DON’T OVERDO IT COME SUNDAY. YOU WILL THANK ME
LATER!
Anyway, simply put, a hangover
is your body’s evil revenge for not listening to it!
The drum set is its way of
saying HEY STUPID! I TOLD YOU TO STOP, BUT YOU HAD TO KEEP GOING, DIDN’T YOU?
Because you didn’t, your mouth
feels like the Sahara in summertime and your stomach feels like you swallowed
an ashtray—which, and in many cases, you probably did, although you just don’t
remember.
That, however, is another way of
knowing you’ve paid a visit to Hangoverville.
Loss of memory.
Don’t worry, though, as time
goes by on Miserable Monday, you will receive plenty of reminders that will
slowly piece things together. They will come in droves, and in person, via
text, via e-mail and in worse case scenarios even by fax … or sometimes all of
the above.
Usually those reminders come
from those closest to you, like your wife, kids, other friends and family and
the like. As embarrassing as this music can be to face, though, be glad it’s
coming from someone you know, because—chances are—if it comes from someone you
barely knew or someone you don’t even remember meeting, there won’t be a hole in
the ground close enough to hide in.
Likely, though, the reminder
will come from the person closest to you—although it won’t seem that way at the
time, because they are usually not happy with you, not hung-over and have a
much clearer and vivid memory of—let’s say—exactly why you woke up in that
closet with a homemade Seahawks bandana wrapped around your head or why the
neighbor’s dog won’t be getting near you for at least the next five years.
If you do find yourself in this
situation, though, I implore you to not do one thing: especially if you’re a big
sports fan, don’t ask This-Person-That-Was-Once-Close-To-You what the score of
the game was or who won. This will only fuel the justice fire they hold deep in
their belly because of your silly antics—the ones that at this point, may I
remind you, only they remember.
Anyway, here in the Southwest,
I’ve learned the best cure for hangovers is Birria, Cabeza or a bowl of Menudo
or Pozole.
The only real ways to make sure
those eyeballs aren’t pounding a jam session from Jimmy Hendrix, though, comes
in the form of one of two magic words.
Abstinence or moderation!
These should be your guides to
all Super Bowl—or any other—parties for as long as you’re on this side of the
dirt.
Needless to say, abstinence—or
drinking diet Coke all night long, in this case—is the best and most obvious choice.
If you’re going to take a nip or
two, however, remember that alcohol makes you a bad calculator … and even makes
you unable to use the real thing.
In other words, IT TURNS YOU
INTO AN IDIOT, so remember, a shot of tequila is just that—A SHOT … … as in
one, not cinco!
That one shot is ALWAYS best
chased with the aforementioned Birria or Cabeza; not a Bud Light, because very
soon one BL turns into cinco for the above-mentioned reason.
That cycle then tends to repeat
itself like an endless math problem until you wake up in that closet with the
bandana, Sahara Desert, ashtray and Jimmy Hendrix.
Now you might be asking, if that
does happen, what do I do?
Well, as much as I’d like to
think otherwise, the only answer to that question is clear …
SUFFER, YOU FOOL!
YOU DESERVE IT!
I TOLD YOU IN THIS COLUMN THAT
ABSTINENCE OR MODERATION ARE THE KEYS!
WEREN’T YOU LISTENING?
(P.S.: If you feel I
crossed the line in this column by glamorizing binge-drinking and its dangers,
please feel free to e-mail me at Ski@take-a-joke@hotmail.com.)
(P.P.S.: Or better
yet, go to http://www.aa.org/ and see the dangers of this overindulging
nightmare for yourself.)
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