Old red eyes

Here I am about 18 years old. I remember lying against this beer tent at a steam rally. I was hardly able to stand.

I thought this was enjoyment, I was probably wrong:

~Lying in bed after a skin-full with the bed slowly revolving. Getting back up and pulling on clothes so I could stumble the streets for an hour to speed the return of sobriety.

~Lying on a sofa with our lady lodger in 1982. Swilling gin from the second bottle and watching daylight creep through the crack in the curtains at 6am.

~Hurrying to the hospital to see the birth of my second son at midnight. Running because I was too drunk to ride my motorcycle.

~Taking no vacation for fifteen years as money spent on a holiday would have been a preposterous waste.

~Running out of salary with three weeks of the month still to go, so taking a cash advance from my credit card to balance the budget.

~Undertaking important afternoon sales interviews through a haze of booze and peppermints.

~Lying in hospital for two weeks with broken bones after a big motorcycle smash.

~Losing all rational thought and judgement.

~Drinking sherry (of all things) by the bottle.

~Promising to take a day off yet knowing I would call in at the store to get evening supplies.

~Having a heavy night out with drinking pals, but unzipping a couple more cans when I got home in the small hours, just as a night cap.

~Not stopping when I felt drunk but continuing until I passed out.

"It's a one-lane highway straight to Hell ...
And I driven it so many times, you can bet I know it well."
Slobberbone - Stumbling