We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
One for me and one for my homies. Sadly, I'm well off my pace for alcohol consumption; it took me two years to finish a bottle of Bulleit. Two years. I don't know if there's a correlation, but each day that passes since my divorce I'm less interested in drinking, which is depressing. Without a real reason to drink drinking is reserved for special occasions, and as the poet says, "there's nobody left to run with any more." I could get married again...or, you know, collect thorns by running naked in the puckerbrush.
Admiration for those who have beaten the demon, sympathy for those who knowingly struggle and unwelcomed familiarity with those who see no evil...life's tough. I get it. Bright stars in the constellation of my youth new a lot about the bottom of a bottle. I've had my day...it just got old. Lucky genes or something. I might make light of a nip or a bottle, but if you're one of those who struggle, you'll get it done. Do what you have to do. Keep doing it. You will kick this mother.