The Fairytale of Dry January
A personal meditation, and a promise.
On an unsuspecting Saturday night, I was brought to tears by Hozier.
Not just any tears. Open, uncontrollable weeping.
(This is not terribly unusual. Hozier is, after all, one of the most talented artists of the 21st Century, and one that has a reputation for making me bawl like a baby with a particularly adroit turn of phrase.)
While watching Saturday Night Live’s annual Christmas episode, musical guest Hozier played his second song of the night - “Fairytale of New York”, a modern classic of an Irish folk-tinged hymn with lyrics that celebrate the joy hidden in life’s darkest moments.
The first words out of Hozier’s mouth? “It was Christmas Eve in the drunk tank.”
And it hit me. My line of work in the beverage industry comes with a lot of rights and responsibilities, to myself and to the world around me. Mindful beverage consumption is indeed one of those responsibilities. But celebration is one of those rights. And the fine line is knowing how to consume alcohol with both a sense of celebration and responsibility.
Three years ago this month, I almost lost a family member due to a life threatening alcohol-related incident that involved time in the drunk tank. As Hozier sang of the NYPD choir singing “Galway Bay”, my mind flashed back to a time when I thought said family member wouldn’t see another Christmas. And three years worth of unprocessed grief poured out of me in the form of cathartic sobs.
For all the press that Dry January has received, the concept has raised some valuable questions amongst beverage professionals like me. When is too much of a good thing actually a bad thing?
This is not the first family member of mine to have a problem with alcohol consumption. Indeed, alcoholism and its related comorbidities have affected multiple generations of my family. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the people who really enjoy alcoholic drinks, it’s that alcoholics are often recipients of the shit end of a genetic lottery, predisposed to have little to filter on an “appropriate” amount of alcohol. Often, these people fly under the radar for a long time, disguising their emotional dependence on mind-altering as living up to a “life of the party” reputation. And, like alcoholism, depression can also be a genetically inherited trait.
In the case of my family member, the accident was the wake up call that brought up both a problem with alcohol use and clinical depression. And the fact that I was so dangerously close to losing someone I deeply, deeply care about due to something related to my line of work? I have been shaken and speechless for a long time.
Hozier’s melancholic vocals reminded me of the joy of the present moment, and perhaps a rose-colored view of a particularly horrific memory of a January past. But by the time the song (and my sobs) had finished, I had come to the realization that the best thing I can do is lead by example.
Many sommeliers cringe at the thought of Dry January because it automatically means reduced alcohol sales. When beverage programs dictate 30-50% of total sales in any given night on the floor, it’s understandably a cause for concern. But sommeliers are supposed to be culturally savvy and effective stewards of all types of beverages, and that include non-alcoholic beverages. In an effort to prolong my time on earth, and in turn lead by example, I publicly promise to only consume alcohol with a sense of responsibility.
If I’m out at a bar or restaurant and I choose to drink something alcoholic, I promise to make my last round an N/A drink (whether it’s a mocktail, a full glass of water, or a great cup of coffee and biscotti at the end of the night). My husband doesn’t process alcohol as quickly as I do, so he’s happy to serve as a designated driver whenever needed (and if you’re in the Bay Area and we’re hanging out with a great bottle, he’s happy to make sure you get home safely, too). In the years following the accident, I’ve made a more conscious effort to bring both an alcoholic option and a non-alcoholic drink to family get-togethers so that more people can enjoy delicious beverages, but I would like to make this a default habit.
While these actions will not cure alcoholism, they can make great strides in healing abusive relationships with alcohol and promote a sense of community that isn’t dependent on alcohol. My family member is still the life of the party, but I hope that they can find solace in the fact that they are not alone, and they are loved for who they are, not what they consume.
And whatever you do, make sure to call a loved one today.
Fine wine is grounded in time and place, and when enjoyed in moderation, can be a thrilling and delicious glimpse into history, society, and science in a glass. Please remember to drink responsibly. If you or someone you know is struggling with substance abuse, contact the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration's (SAMHSA) National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357).