Under the Influence

I’m not much of a drinker.

Never really was.

Sure there were a couple of nights in high school.

And a few more in college.

Ok maybe a few more than a few more in college.

But somehow I made it to the other side.

Somehow.

Now I love an ice cold beer as much as the next guy.

At the right time.

Like at a football game.

Or on a hot day.

Or a random Wednesday afternoon.

But thankfully I’ve stayed away making it a daily ritual.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Drinking is usually not the issue.

It’s drinking in excess where trouble starts.

And once that trouble starts, it’s hard to make it stop.

As a parent of a 14, a 12 and an 8.

I’ve tried to be as up front with them as possible.

And that includes talking to them about alcohol.

And drugs.

And friends.

I’ve told them to surround themselves with people you can trust.

And the rest will work out.

Hopefully.

We’ll I didn’t tell them the hopefully part.

Right now my kids are at an age where drinking and drugs just don’t seem like a realistic possibility.

To them.

When I bring up the subject, they usually give me the... 

“Are you kidding dad, I will NEVER try those things” look.

The same look I probably gave my dad.

The same look my friend’s son probably gave him.

Gave him.

Past tense.

Monday night I was at a Halloween party when my iPhone started buzzing.

It was notifying me that a new email had arrived.

But what it didn’t prepare me for was what I was about to read.

The email was titled “truly sad”.

And when I opened it, I almost fell to the ground.

Literally.

The 18-year-old son of my friend was dead.

No other way to say it.

Dead.

The suspected cause of death was alcohol poisoning.

The boy spent Saturday night at a friend’s house.

And he never got up.

I don’t know any more than that.

And I really don't need to.

All that matters is that my friend will never see his son again.

Never.

My fingers are literally shaking as I type those words.

It’s been several days since I got the email.

And I still can’t believe it.

Having a daughter in high school now...

(Just saying that makes me cringe.)

Well having a daughter in high school now has forced me to think a lot more about reality than I used to.

And if I ever stop thinking about reality.

Stories like these kick me right in the gut.

Right next to the knot in my stomach.

Of course it’s hard to imagine that any of my three little angels will ever do anything that gets them in trouble.

But the statistics tell an entirely different story.

There are roughly 50,000 cases of alcohol poisoning reported in the United States each year.

And of those cases.

At least one person dies every week.

Every week.

Alcohol poisoning is caused by drinking large amounts of alcohol in a short period of time.

You may know it better by its cool name.

Binge drinking.

In a recent survey, 90% of the alcohol consumed by drinkers under 21 in the U.S. is in the form of binge drinks.

The proportion of current drinkers that binge is highest in the 18-to-20-year-old group (51%).

I could cut and paste all day.

Alcohol Poisoning.

Binge Drinking.

Episodic Excessive Drinking.

Call it whatever you want.

As a dad, I call it scary.

According to the 2010 National Survey on Drug Use and Health:

• 10 Million people, aged 12-20, reported drinking alcohol in the month leading up to the survey

• 6.5 Million of those aged 12-20 were binge drinkers

• 2 Million of those were heavy drinkers

I know 12-20 is a large group.

And there are a lot of groups within that large group.

But still.

And don’t forget you have to be 21 to purchase alcohol in the United States.

Yeah, right.

Of course, I am not so naive to think that it is hard for a minor to get a drink.

I did it.

In fact, I probably had my first beer before I had my first kiss.

But that’s not saying much.

Sadly the numbers show that underage drinking is on the rise.

But it’s not the numbers I’m thinking about at the moment.

It’s my friend.

I cannot possibly imagine how he feels.

And I pray that I never will.

Type 2 Personality

A few weeks ago I was working out at the local gym.

Thankfully that’s not news.

With all that I eat, I try to work out every day.

Or at least every other day.

The news here came after I was done working out.

As I got out of the shower and headed back into the locker room, I noticed that a man was looking at me.

I was wearing nothing but a towel.

And he was wearing nothing but a towel.

Not that there is anything wrong with that.

As I got closer, he said, “I’m sorry for staring at you.”

“But you look just like this guy I went to college with.”

So I asked what college.

He answered my college.

I said that’s my college.

He said, “Are you......?”

I said, “I am.”

And with that, the reunion tour was officially underway.

Now I live a thousand miles from where I went to school.

And school was a million miles ago.

Graduated 20 years back.

22, to be exact.

So to run into somebody from the glory days.

That’s a long-shot.

And being recognized by somebody who hasn’t seen you since before Milli knew Vanilli.

That’s a miracle.

And in this miracle I looked exactly as I did two decades ago?

While wearing just a towel?

Now that’s a real miracle.

And a compliment.

My new friend/old friend told me that he still keeps in touch with a handful of people from the way back machine.

Including an old fraternity brother of mine.

In fact, he said that brother was coming to town in a few weeks.

Which was this week.

“And we should all get together.”

So we did what all the kids do these days.

Friended each other on Facebook.

Is “friended” really a word?

Well within a couple of pings, we had a lunch date.

So yesterday, we grabbed a table for three at a local burger joint.

Within moments, we exchanged pictures of the eight kids we helped bring into this world.

And then we bragged about the swim team.

And the fishing trip.

And the dance competition.

You know all the things that proud papas talk about.

That lasted about two minutes.

The other 98 minutes were spent talking about the golden days.

Well not all 98 minutes.

And not all talking.

I spent the first five minutes listening.

Listening to my fraternity brother tell me how his life changed.

A few years ago.

But this change didn’t involve religion.

Or alcohol.

Or a hot girl.

It involved a test.

And this was one test that you can’t cheat on.

Apparently he had a cholesterol level that was slightly above the norm.

But he took it very seriously.

So seriously that he went in for regular updates.

Ironically it was a test with a positive change that brought in a negative result.

Those results showed the good news about his cholesterol going down.

But the bad news that he had developed diabetes.

A shocking development.

Considering he had no family history of the disease.

And he was far from obese.

He was not exactly the ideal candidate.

But even with the odds in his favor, he had joined a growing list.

A list that won’t stop growing.

In fact a study released in October by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention said that by 2050, one in three adults may have diabetes.

Fortunately/Amazingly, I can’t think of any of my adult friends who are diabetic.

So I was very interested in learning more.

But I had to walk that tight-rope between being supportive.

And being nosy.

He immediately showed me the syringe that he takes everywhere with him.

And he said that he can still eat pretty much everything he wants.

As long as he adds the right amount of insulin to the menu.

It’s just part of his new diet.

And his new life.

And he seems really ok with it.

Which made me feel really ok with it.