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When I was younger, I could slug 'em down with the best of them. Overindulging was a result, back in the day, not the goal it seems to be now.

I couldn't wait to turn twenty-one. The real proof of maturity was being able to belly on up to the bar and order a Bud. Selections of the adult beverage of choice did not include chocolate martinis or cosmopolitans. We were limited to beer, the three musketeers of hard liquor with either orange juice or soda, and a fine selection of screw top wines. We had one size jumbo glasses. It wasn't the bartender's fault if we overindulged. When we did, he took our keys and called someone. Ah, the good old days.

Upon my recent retirement, my niece arranged a surprise (astonishment) party for me. It was beautifully done, and people traveled through the worst storm of the year to attend. It was held at my old stomping ground, the local club. Something happens to me when I relive moments of my past. I accepted a rum and coke and flitted around like Cindy Lauper. I saw people I hadn't seen in years. As in all rekindled life experiences, I began to digress to a much younger mindset. I ordered a glass of wine. The bartender, whom I had never seen before, handed me a stemmed glass with about an inch of sparkling liquid in it. My displeasure must have been evident, because after I downed the mouthful, my glass was refilled without question. I swaggered over to chat with my guests, feeling like I owned the place.

If memory serves me correctly, I believe this was about the time my knee stopped bothering me. I also found that I had a little more spring in my step. I saw a few of my nephew's friends gathered in a corner, snickering at their parents trying to relive the past. Young whippersnappers, I thought smugly. Someone handed me a mike and the crowd went wild. "Speech! Speech!" I had waited for this moment for close to forty years. I was not new to public speaking, as I have been a trainer/instructor for years, so I cannot blame my bumbling of the moment on nerves. I thanked everybobby for coming, stood like a deer caught in headlights for a couple of minutes, and thanked them again.

Someone handed me another stemmed glass, full to the brim. I found another smoker and went outside in the blizzard to discuss our second class citizen status. I remember several other non-smokers joining us, and thinking they really should be more considerate by leaving us alone to kill ourselves. I get a little snippy when I drink.

The party was in

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