You’ve almost made it. There are just a few more days left. Dryuary is nearly over.
If you’re like me, you may be repeating those phrases to yourself as you crawl through the month of January like a lost soul on a scorched desert without a cold beer and wine store in sight.
“Dryuary” is a yearly tradition that has slowly seeped through much of the Western world, including here in Vancouver. As tough as Dryuary can be, you can count me amongst its supporters and participants. Essentially, you treat the first month of the year as a booze break, full stop. You give your liver, your waist line, and your wallet a respite from the non-stop socializing that can seriously foam up during the holidays. You know, those parties and gatherings and meet-ups and open houses that begin around late November, where you could knock back say, one to 14 drinks at festivities that chug straight through to New Year’s Eve? If you’re even a light social drinker, that’s one long, boozy ride. It’s entirely plausible that you drank alcohol every night of December (not judging, just saying).
Look, I’m no stranger to booze marathons. I was in a touring rock band for 17 years of my life, and I maintain to this day that being a touring musician is the only job in the world where you show up for work contractually expecting to find free booze waiting for you. It’s the only job in the world where you not only are allowed to do your job drunk, but often encouraged to do so, with alcohol being available before, during and after your performance. If you’re playing every night, that’s a very slippery slope, down which I saw many musicians slide.
Those cautionary memories are another reason why I willingly partake in Dryuary, but as a professed beer lover, who lives in the heart of “Yeast Van”, and plays on a beer league hockey team, it’s tough. I’ve mentioned this before, but on my bike ride to and from work, I pedal past upwards of eight independent breweries, all with tasting rooms and easy-to-purchase six packs, bombers, and growlers to go. The temptation is great, but once you get on that Dryuary train, you owe it to yourself to hang on until it pulls in to the February station.
And hey, if this is your first Dryuary, be warned: while there are the aforementioned and obvious rewards (besides weight loss, financial savings, and a time-out for your liver, you’ll also likely experience an uptick of positive energy, better sleep, and sunnier ways) you should know there are pitfalls to be avoided when arriving at Dryuary’s final February station.
I’ll just pour it out there: Dryuary 2015 landed me in the hospital. Let me rephrase that: immediately after Dryuary ended, the celebratory booze binge I went on during a Palm Springs vacation (while simultaneously dealing with a touch of toddler-induced stomach flu), put me in the hospital. It was a delirious case of alcohol-and-flu-induced dehydration that resembled a cross between The Hangover 4 andThe Exorcist. You could say I painted the town brown. Indeed, I found my cold beer and wine oasis in the desert, but it kicked my ass straight to an emergency room in the United States, which was extremely traumatic for my dear wife.
So please, do join me in celebrating Dryuary, but you’ve been advised: be very careful on the backend, in more ways than one. Now stay on that train! You’re almost there! #dryuary
