Half on the Wagon

Have you ever had an epiphanal moment? Okay – here’s a true confession. . . .

Some months before I was married, I went out with some friends. I drank too much whiskey (was that what it was?) and got sick. Upon arising the “morning after,” I made a vow to myself — that I would never – ever – drink hard stuff again.

Donna and I were married on January 22, 1972, and since that fateful morning months before – Scout’s Honor – I have not had one drop of “hard stuff” (bourbon, Scotch, vodka, gin or anything like that). I’ve had the chance but nary a driblet has passed my lips. It is one of those lines (that we all have within us) – that has not been crossed. True.

I know – you’re thinking okay Petersen, what’s the punch line? Well there is one . . . of sorts. What I will drink is wine and an occasional beer. I’ve been perfectly content over the years with sipping cabernet or pinot noir (glug glug glug). Seriously – it’s not like that but there is something about a nice wine. Mine usually comes in gallon boxes — three for ten dollars. So I guess you can say I’m “half” on the wagon. . . .

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