Never Again...Sure

I haven’t done this in a while: stayed up late and had at least one too many drinks on a school night. Getting up and out of the house to class by 7:30 this morning was a bit of a challenge, although no less than it was staying alert, engaged, and articulate (sort of) for two hours of student presentations.

“I’m too old for this,” is the standard quote here, and it fits. Mostly, I should know better than to overindulge on occasions that precede early mornings; in any event, though, I survived; my students (unless they happen to read this—an unlikely scenario) were no wiser, and by late afternoon, I’m feeling a good deal less like dog food than when I first got up.

Over the years, my behavior has been less-than-saintly when it comes to the consumption of various inebriants and intoxicants; I used to be able, however, to bounce back more quickly than I do these days. I recall a few nights in my late 20s back in Santa Fe when I closed down a bar and could still be lively and creative for an 8:30 AM meeting. Not so, anymore.

Nevertheless, I would still say it was worth it. Last night was a perfect night for bike riding: unseasonably warm, dry, and clear. A large group of riders turned out at Red Square and we made our way up through Greenlake and then west to Golden Gardens for a beachfront campfire and cookout. Bombing down the twisty hill from 32nd to the park was particularly a blast.

My mistake—if you want to call it that—was leaving the beach and heading through downtown to hit a few restaurant bars—Union, and its sister establishment, Tavolata—that I’ve been wanting to check out.

They were both okay, I guess; it’s certain, though, that I’d have been more with it this morning had I stayed on the bike seat and off the bar stool.