For most of my adult life, I had an occasional glass of wine at dinner, or a bottle of beer with my burrito or burger, but really didn’t drink much at all. That changed dramatically when we moved to Glasgow, where it was common for friends to gather at the local (one of the locals) (one of the many locals) after work and have a round or two, share some chips, banter and process our working day. Those were lovely, lovely days, and only very rarely did anyone drink too much, at least as far as conventional definitions of social drinking are concerned.
When we moved to Oxford, our drinking pattern changed. We weren’t friends with a cluster of mates who stopped by a pub on our way home from work; and we lived at the college where we taught, so we didn’t pass any pubs on our way home. We did go to dinner at colleges from time to time, and there we did drink more than usual for our Oxford days. On those occasions, I sail closer to ‘too much’, though not enough to give myself a hangover (to take one measure); it’s been ages since I had a hangover, possibly as far back as Evanston days. [Correction — I just remembered a night out at a gin tasting with Meg, on which occasion I definitely got drunk, although not so much that I had a hangover on the next morning — just moved slowly and gently.] But we have gotten into the habit of having a glass of wine (or in my case, a bottle of ale) with dinner. Wine and ale are tasty complements to meals, and they do have a relaxing effect, and this is all pleasant.
But my dear friend Julie Kaufman linked to the recent medical research that emphasises that any drinking at all increases the risk of cancer. Now, I take Julie seriously all the time anyway, but this struck me as especially pertinent as I have begun reorienting my daily life toward healthier choices (like running in the morning, and trying to reduce a bit). I’ve gotten to an age where I’m near the age at which my father died, entering the neighbourhood of an average male life span. I might as well take some steps toward stalling that consummation, so I’ve begun, modestly, to cut back my drinking. That’s mostly by having non-alcoholic beer instead of wine or ale with dinner (Heineken 0.0% is the best I’ve tasted so far, but I’d welcome any other alternative; NA wine is, so far, a total washout). That makes it easier to pass half my days without drinking at all. I’m nettled — I do like wine and ale, and my G&T on occasion — but I still enjoy them, freely. I simply don’t drink them as a matter of course.
