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In Vino Veritas

JackDallas

Senator
Supporting Member
In the wake of the recent outburst from my good friend Woolley, in which he made some rude and crude remarks regarding women, and thereby irritated, urinated, and generally insulted every woman on the BOTF, some thoughts and memories came to mind.

Woolley said he did it because he was drunk. I facetiously posted that a man could not be held responsible for anything he does when he is drunk. I was, of course, just joking. Woolley’s wound was self-inflicted.

I have a passionate aversion to drinking in excess. I did not obtain this aversion by joining a church or adhering to strict religious tenets. My dislike of drunks and their drunken behavior comes from life experiences.

My dad was a drunk. I don’t know why. Perhaps he harbored memories of an unhappy childhood or maybe he brought home some ghosts from Guadalcanal, I don’t know. Nevertheless, he was a drunk and he wrecked every car we ever had until the last one he wrecked killed him. Now the story would be sad enough had he only killed himself, but that was not the case and that was what turned the sad story into a tragedy. An innocent woman was killed and her two kids were severely injured. There is just no way to live that down. I have tried.

I haven’t been drunk in about 40 years. I have a beer every now and then, with a burger or pizza; and I have a glass of wine, maybe two, with Italian food, but I have not been knee-walking, commode-hugging drunk in so long that I cannot remember when it was. I seek no credit for this; I mention it just as an aside. I am quite certain, even though I do not remember my last drunk, that I most likely made an ass out of myself.

I am a control freak. I abhor the loss of control and the diminishment of faculties. Over the years, I have seen men and women lose control because of excessive drinking.

I had a good friend in the Navy who spent more time drunk than he did sober. John, I call him John because that was his name. John was a nice guy when he was sober, but John would get drunk and get into fights because he turned into an ass when he drank. The inherent problem was that, when John was drunk, he could not fight or control himself. So, John was always coming in with black eyes and knots all over his head. John’s true nature was revealed in the alcohol.

There was a guy in my school who was a friend of a friend, a hanger-on, on the periphery of my circle of friends; I’ll call him Elbert because that was his name. Elbert and I had both joined the Navy Reserve in high school. We were both scheduled to go on active duty in October of 1962. Due to circumstances, too lengthy and obscure to go into in any detail at this time, I found myself in the company of the aforementioned Elbert, a few nights before I was to depart to go help President Kennedy kick the Russians out of Cuba.

We were in my car and we were drunk. We started cruising the coffee houses and hangouts along McKinney Avenue, in Dallas. McKinney Avenue was no less cool in those days than it is today. With the trolleys and the eclectic atmosphere, it was just a cool place to be. The area, I found was much more enjoyable when you were with drunken friends and not with a drunk who was not a friend. Elbert would have been fine had he just gotten drunk and kept his mouth shut. Alas, he had the right to remain silent but he did not have the ability. *

Elbert started telling me how much he had always liked me. I didn’t get nervous at first, I was numbed by the beer I’d had; but he wouldn’t shut up. “Jack,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Elbert,” I responded. “We haven’t been through shit together. We hardly know each other.”

He continued to expound on my exceptional qualities and how much he admired me. I wasn’t 100% sure where he was heading; but I was 100% sure that I did not want to know. Elbert got out of the car to take a leak. He disappeared down an alley to go behind a building to attend to his business. I drove off and left him there. I never saw him again…ever. I blame alcohol for that night.

Elbert’s innermost secrets were released and my ability, to do something that would ordinarily be contrary to my nature, and just drive off and leave him there with no way home was made possible because we were drunk.

Nothing good ever comes from drinking, nothing. I have seen it ruin more lives than I could ever list. I have seen people lose their jobs and their families, their reputations, their homes, their friends, and even their lives because of excessive drinking.

I hope that the Woolley incident is not indicative of deeper issues and problems within his soul. People do not get drunk without a reason. The behavior is always telling. Alcohol releases the inner man, or woman. Truth is at the bottom of the glass. The quirks, the prejudices, the fears, the hates, the loves, the lusts, the inner torment, all float to the top of the bottle.

In Vino Veritas

Jack Dallas Posted on The Fray, circa 2004
 
In the wake of the recent outburst from my good friend Woolley, in which he made some rude and crude remarks regarding women, and thereby irritated, urinated, and generally insulted every woman on the BOTF, some thoughts and memories came to mind.

Woolley said he did it because he was drunk. I facetiously posted that a man could not be held responsible for anything he does when he is drunk. I was, of course, just joking. Woolley’s wound was self-inflicted.

I have a passionate aversion to drinking in excess. I did not obtain this aversion by joining a church or adhering to strict religious tenets. My dislike of drunks and their drunken behavior comes from life experiences.

My dad was a drunk. I don’t know why. Perhaps he harbored memories of an unhappy childhood or maybe he brought home some ghosts from Guadalcanal, I don’t know. Nevertheless, he was a drunk and he wrecked every car we ever had until the last one he wrecked killed him. Now the story would be sad enough had he only killed himself, but that was not the case and that was what turned the sad story into a tragedy. An innocent woman was killed and her two kids were severely injured. There is just no way to live that down. I have tried.

I haven’t been drunk in about 40 years. I have a beer every now and then, with a burger or pizza; and I have a glass of wine, maybe two, with Italian food, but I have not been knee-walking, commode-hugging drunk in so long that I cannot remember when it was. I seek no credit for this; I mention it just as an aside. I am quite certain, even though I do not remember my last drunk, that I most likely made an ass out of myself.

I am a control freak. I abhor the loss of control and the diminishment of faculties. Over the years, I have seen men and women lose control because of excessive drinking.

I had a good friend in the Navy who spent more time drunk than he did sober. John, I call him John because that was his name. John was a nice guy when he was sober, but John would get drunk and get into fights because he turned into an ass when he drank. The inherent problem was that, when John was drunk, he could not fight or control himself. So, John was always coming in with black eyes and knots all over his head. John’s true nature was revealed in the alcohol.

There was a guy in my school who was a friend of a friend, a hanger-on, on the periphery of my circle of friends; I’ll call him Elbert because that was his name. Elbert and I had both joined the Navy Reserve in high school. We were both scheduled to go on active duty in October of 1962. Due to circumstances, too lengthy and obscure to go into in any detail at this time, I found myself in the company of the aforementioned Elbert, a few nights before I was to depart to go help President Kennedy kick the Russians out of Cuba.

We were in my car and we were drunk. We started cruising the coffee houses and hangouts along McKinney Avenue, in Dallas. McKinney Avenue was no less cool in those days than it is today. With the trolleys and the eclectic atmosphere, it was just a cool place to be. The area, I found was much more enjoyable when you were with drunken friends and not with a drunk who was not a friend. Elbert would have been fine had he just gotten drunk and kept his mouth shut. Alas, he had the right to remain silent but he did not have the ability. *

Elbert started telling me how much he had always liked me. I didn’t get nervous at first, I was numbed by the beer I’d had; but he wouldn’t shut up. “Jack,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Elbert,” I responded. “We haven’t been through shit together. We hardly know each other.”

He continued to expound on my exceptional qualities and how much he admired me. I wasn’t 100% sure where he was heading; but I was 100% sure that I did not want to know. Elbert got out of the car to take a leak. He disappeared down an alley to go behind a building to attend to his business. I drove off and left him there. I never saw him again…ever. I blame alcohol for that night.

Elbert’s innermost secrets were released and my ability, to do something that would ordinarily be contrary to my nature, and just drive off and leave him there with no way home was made possible because we were drunk.

Nothing good ever comes from drinking, nothing. I have seen it ruin more lives than I could ever list. I have seen people lose their jobs and their families, their reputations, their homes, their friends, and even their lives because of excessive drinking.

I hope that the Woolley incident is not indicative of deeper issues and problems within his soul. People do not get drunk without a reason. The behavior is always telling. Alcohol releases the inner man, or woman. Truth is at the bottom of the glass. The quirks, the prejudices, the fears, the hates, the loves, the lusts, the inner torment, all float to the top of the bottle.

In Vino Veritas

Jack Dallas Posted on The Fray, circa 2004
I missed this! What did the fool say?
 
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