I wish I could drink more. Aches and pains, sagging skin, thinning hair – all the fun stuff comes with old age. Those are the tell-tale signs of aging, what can you do? But growing up, nobody ever told me about the cruelest sign of being over the hill. It’s the hangover. The hangover is probably the number one reason people suddenly mature.
Used to be, you woke up fine. Then you started feeling lousy for a morning. Then it was a full day. Now you have a few too many on Saturday night and it’s Wednesday before you rejoin the human race.
All those remedies you tried eventually proved to be good for nothing. You’d pop two advils before bed. You’d try to chase the hangover away with a milk shake. They work until they don’t.
You think it’s been hot? How about the poor people who had nine or 10 too many drinks and had to wake up feeling like a french fry under a heat lamp? Let’s face it, in this post-Sandy era, we’ve forgotten how to be sympathetic to the hungover crowd.
I wish hangovers weren’t so crippling, that’s all. I wish you could drink, act like a fool, and wake up feeling fresh as a daisy. I wish for world peace, too. It’s just too bad the only meal I’m interested in these days is the Early Bird Special. I wish I had the energy to stay out past sunset. And the reason I wish this is because there’s an opportunity being wasted.
There should be Wave coverage about the bar scene in Rockaway (ok, ok, besides the Rockaway Beach Volleyball League). There should be a column written by someone —- anonymously, of course—- who would report on everything from the great to the not-so-great. The night crawler reporter could weigh in on the magic of Pabst Blue Ribbon and pina coladas and the growing phenomenon of muffin tops. Do I have to tell my octogenarian readership what a muffin top is?
There are somewhere between 10 and 15 places – that’s an easy beat in the news business – that should get some ink. Sadly, there’s a vast subculture The Wave is failing. The Wave acts like Rockaway closes down from 10 until dawn. Yeah, yeah, we need a ferry but what this place really needs is a snarky column about watering holes.
I’d go out and write the column but then I’d miss Saturday night reruns of Murder She Wrote.
Boyleing Points: So a few weeks ago, I wrote about boys stealing candy – the five finger discount. It seems young girls were equally mischievous. I got a note saying girls didn’t shoplift candy because it was fattening. They lifted lipstick at the Five and Ten. I can’t name names because a certain nun would be appalled!