The Power of Positive Drinking

It’s the long weekend in Canada, so revisiting an old post on libations, seems appropriate. Happy Canada Day weekend!

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It’s a well-documented fact that many revered authors were drinkers.  Not teetotalers, but hardcore, slam-them-back, liver abusers.  And aside from the moderation argument, is there anything outwardly wrong with that?  The love of libation is not reserved for the creative elite, far from it, but the fascination with prominent figures, especially their quirks and idiosyncrasies, accentuates their vices, and often defines them.

The list of authors who drank reads like a who’s who of the literary world.  As far back as Absinthe or ‘green fairy’ drinkers like Oscar Wilde, to more recent day spirituous writers like Kerouac, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Chandler, and Hemingway to name a few, all indulged.  In common they were masters of their craft, lovers of the drink.  But did they also share a mutual belief in the inspirational power of the cocktail?

Let’s first consider a few select quotes from the masters themselves, perhaps revealing a glimmer…

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The Eeyore Syndrome

I’m still holding a spot… at the nerd table. Care to join me?

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eeyore_self_deprecationSelf-deprecation is a personal trait I hold in high regard.

I’m not talking ‘Eeyore level’ self-deprecation, that perpetual deluge of negative commentary that borders on the psychotic. I’m referring to some old-fashioned unpretentious self-criticism, a few good-natured ribs; in other words, some genuine, unadulterated, anti-extroverted behavior. I find the attribute an admirable quality in others, an attractive idiosyncrasy that exudes sincerity and draws me in like a magnet.

self_deprecatingDespite society’s infatuation with self-assured confidence peddlers, self-deprecation—in metered doses, emits an aura of genuineness. It becomes a calling card of modesty, denoting an individual grounded in reality, unobtrusive and approachable. Self-deprecators, like insatiable introverts, prefer the solitude of shadow, avoiding the spotlight, until the stars align and the time is right. Then step back, and watch the magic unravel.

When it’s time to arrange the seating list, sit me at the table with the introverts and self-deprecators—away from the power socialites…

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Empty Bucket List

Bucket list, shmucket list.

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chumbucketWe’re all familiar with the phrase ‘kicking the bucket’, a euphemism, presumably derived during an era where staging one’s own demise was accomplished by standing on a bucket, securing a noose, and kicking away.  Goodbye cruel world.

And to the credit of modern society, we’ve managed to travel further down the morbid path of introspection by altering, for the sake of brevity and hapless wit, an already grim concept.

Bucket List.

The fact that this expression is so widely overused is in itself an irritant of significant proportions.  I can no longer acknowledge the term, nor can I feign the slightest bit of interest when the topic is broached.  Monotony, repetition, pie-in-the-sky generalities have combined to successfully dilute the concept into another bland cliché that’s lost all meaning and significance.

“That’s going on my bucket list.”

Fantastic, but I’m not interested.

Regardless if it’s paragliding in Costa Rica, retracing…

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