The Big 60

Los Angeles, California

I believe, fervently, in celebrating birthdays. And I should amend that statement to read celebrating birth months. So when the 'big' birthdays roll around, I am all in on the festivities. As I have written here before, Joel's birthday is just two days before Independence Day (mine just two days before Halloween), so it ties in with a lot of fireworks, flags, and general hoopla. This birthday also fell in the middle of the World Cup games, adding to the elation of this season.

We don't travel at this time of the year. It's family travel time, so a good time not to do so. Our usual celebration for both birthdays is going out for oysters then to a club for dancing. With dancing clearly on the back burner, we discussed alternatives and came up with... going out for oysters, solamente. And that we did. It is also soft-shell crab season, so we headed out to our local seafood restaurant, found a place at the bar so we could watch yet another soccer game, and indulged.

Joel had remarked that it wasn't a big deal to him to have this birthday 'tradition.' But it is to me. Traditions have always been important, and I come by this rightly. My mom was big on these things, and our family celebrated many events in the same way each year. Mom was a lover of green corn tamales at El Cholo, and these were (and maybe still are, I have no idea) seasonal with the season commencing June 1st. Since her birthday was June 2, that was our tradition for her birthday. It was unquestioned, just as having fish for Christmas Eve was the constant for that holiday. At some point my sister had rebelled against most  of our family traditions, attempting to manipulate them with her ever-changing food 'allergies.' But we weren't having any of that.

Besides being our birthdays' tradition, oysters work for us. They are among the very few celebratory foods that Joel and I can share. Not to put too fine a point on this, but Joel is a bit picky. He eats no finned fish, only shellfish. He does eat caviar, but going out for caviar is an even spendier experience than oysters, so we save that for caviar and champagne nights at home.

In addition to the oyster night (no salsa), we went out twice to watch World Cup games. Both times to a restaurant where we go often enough to know the bartender and for him to know what we drink without our ordering: Modelo Negra for J; Casamigos reposado for me. And, we topped off the weekend by attending a Dodgers game and seeing their first extra-innings game of the season, which included a home run by Ohtani in front of thousands of Ohtani-jersey clad fans (including me!). There in the Executive Club section where we sit, our bartender, Bradley, also knows my drink: Hibiki. And, Modelo for J.

I was grateful that this was a good birthday for Joel. Both because it was just before his surgery and also because I felt I fell down on the job on his big 50th. I was in the throes of selling my business at that time, and it was extremely stressful. I don't think I was able to concentrate on making that event very special. For this one, I think I did us proud. And I am happy to think that Joel is finally catching up to my age. To quote Monty Python: Wink, wink. Nod,  nod...

Sobriety

 Los Angeles, California

Sobriety. Ok, just kidding. It's a state I might visit, but I would never want to permanently reside there. I like alcohol. They're not called spirits for nothing. A past friend used to say (and this is quite quotable): I hope I never have a problem with alcohol, because I love it so much I don't think I could ever give it up. But lately it seems that everyone is giving it up. Not me, however.

But... I did give it up for Lent this year. I gave it up for the 40+ days that comprise Lent, except for the whiskey I drank on St. Patrick's Day. The two whiskeys I drank that evening at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Incongruous, I know. I shoulda had a Jameson's on Cinco de Mayo to rebalance.

And... since Lent I find myself drinking a lot less. Do I enjoy it less? Of course not. I really enjoy the flavor of good scotch and good tequila. With summer approaching, I had a gin and tonic recently. After reading Stanley Tucci's recent memoir, Taste, I have been jonesing for a negroni. While I used to say that I don't drink a lot, but I drink often, these days I'm not drinking that often. And I find that one is enough, even though I haven't gone past two (or at least not since my thirties have long passed). Days now pass when I don't drink anything. This is partially because non-alcoholic beers have gotten so tasty, especially the IPAs.

Am I feeling better, healthier, more virtuous? Hmmm. Not really. I would say about the same. Am I sleeping better? Also, not really. So in essence, there is no reason for this, other than perhaps I broke the routine through my Lenten abstinence.

One more thing, however. I am surrounded by teetotalers. Very few of my girlfriends drink at all. Even the ones who used to drink have sworn off. So when I go to lunch or dinner with them, it just doesn't feel quite right to be the only one who orders a cocktail. And that's ok. Joel doesn't drink much at all. I can get him to share a bottle of champagne with me, but that is now drinking to excess for us both. And, of course, when we are dancing, drinking must be tempered as you have to maintain balance for turns. Too much tequila turns one to floppiness. Not a pretty sight in dance.

So here's the problem with all of this temperance. I have a huge bar. And I invested in even more imported spirits to avoid the threatened tariffs. I probably have more scotch and tequila than I can put away during the rest of my lifetime. So I told Lynnette that I was going to leave my stores of liquor to her husband, one of the few fellow drinkers I know. Sadly, he gave  up alcohol at the beginning of the year. You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille.

Probably the best thing for me to do at this point is to stop buying booze. I have about a dozen different whiskeys in my bar. Why, you might ask. Well, sometimes I want a specific one to drink. My current favorite is Hibiki. But sometimes I want to revert back to a Macallan or the Johnny Walker Blue Label that Joel gave me one Christmas. Sometimes I switch to Irish whiskey for a time. And don't get me started on tequila, mezcal and sotol. While I have stopped drinking vodka martinis, I occasionally want to shake up a Bombay Sapphire one. And all of that listed above makes up only half of what I have in my bar. Time's a-wasting.

So, sobriety's not in my wheelhouse at this time, and hopefully not at any time in the future. Life's too short not to enjoy, within measure, all of that which is available for us to enjoy. So tonight, when I drink my short scotchtequila or whathaveyou, I will tip my glass and, as I always do, toast Here's to us. Salud!