I guzzled down a few IPAs starting around 5:30 p.m last night. My parents were out, my tasks for the day were completed, and the fridge was stocked with recently-purchased Flying Dog beer (8%). Thirty minutes later, the Grateful Dead is blasting out of the speakers in the kitchen, the whole bottom floor is shaking. In free spirit, I’m dancing around from room to room. It’s Friday night, or just about to be nighttime.
I’ve always been an early-morning person. With friends and when I’m out, I’ll grit it out till the sunrise or early morning hours, but I rather not. Instead, I prefer to commence the night once work is completed and wound up at a reasonable time later.
Regardless of the start-time, the blending of alcohol, music, and dancing will always remain as one of my favorite pastimes. This engagement is shared amongst cultures and spans across centuries. Some parties are inclined to sip on beer and watch television or toss back shots and wiggle through a cramped bar, for me, the joy derived from drinking and dancing with friends–or myself–to live or stereo-played music exceeds any other drinking event.
My buzz is steady as I click for the next song, continuing with the Grateful Dead tunes. There’s a noticeable connection with me and the 60’s and 70’s eras, especially in regards to music and literature. Maybe I lived in that period before and I’m doing my best to relive it now. Or it may just be the alcohol and that blaring music.