End of an era

No not me training, I haven't given up yet even if I am almost at the month mark.  I mean the the demise of Mr. Eugenides blog (hopefully temporary).  I've been reading him for years and he never fails to make me laugh (or furious by highlighting yet more grotesqueness from our overbaring state).  Hopefully it'll be temporary when he realises that the current bunch of assholes are only slightly less malicious than the last lot.  But for now I'll remember this fine blogger by my favourite words of his about my beloved aqua vitae.

Drinking with friends is one of life’s small pleasures. No, let’s change it up; it’s one of life’s biggest pleasures. How many memories are burned on the brain – albeit fuzzily – from boozy student nights out, when tomorrow morning’s lectures could be skipped with impunity and the whole world was there for the taking? How many lifelong friendships forged over pints on lazy summer evenings? How many of your friends have met, taken a fancy to and fallen in love with life partners with the aid of a shot of Dutch courage to loosen the inhibitions or a glass of wine to lubricate the tongue? How many of us and our children, to say nothing of geniuses yet to be born, owe our very places on this earth, and some of the fondest times of our lives, to the joyous, self-actualising, life-affirming, complex, subtle, almost magical force that is alcohol?

Too true.