I know I have said I could be strong. But alas, I am weak. Weak as a kitten.
Nostalgia is a bitch, and when it strikes, it hits hard. In this case it is the nostalgia for a guitar neck. My third guitar, and the first one I bought with my own money was a 1986 vintage Charvel Model 4, from the era that they were made in Japan. It was a black body, with the pointy head stock, bolt on neck, second generation Kahler tremolo, and superb Jackson active electronics. (more…)
The first hint of age catching up with me was when I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis in my left thumb. Alas, that was at an age that the surgical remedies were not recommended (fusing the joints – YIKES).
But the latest has really been a gut punch.
I stopped drinking beer quite a few years ago. There was a direct correlation between a couple of brewski’s and a gout flare up. Gout is no bueno. So I canned the malted, hopped beverages. Frankly, this led to significantly less alcohol consumption.
Therein lies the second problem.
I still enjoy the occasional glass of red wine. A Chianti with Pizza, or a Zinfandel with the rare steak I eat.
Alas, even a single glass of wine gets me buzzed, not really a problem, being a cheap date is not a bad thing at my age.
But it is the aftermath. Once the alcohol metabolizes, I wake up. Like wide awake, and not able to go back to sleep. Last Friday I made pizza, and we shared a bottle of a Spanish Rioja (it is what we had that was appropriate for Pizza) and at 1:00 AM I was wide awake.
This never used to be a problem at all. I used to be able to have moderate alcohol intake, and sleep it off without any ill effects. Now it is a principal cause of insomnia.
Just kill me now.