In the continuing saga of navel gazing because, let us be honest, YouTube is growing a bit stale, we attempt to evaluate why I prefer to spend my Saturday night working, reading, or writing blog entries instead of heading out for "fun". Self-indulgent, magniloquent, florid prose will undoubtedly make brief appearances as a disguise for missing carefully reasoned rhetoric. Extra-hyphens and random semicolons may; or may not; help provide humorous interludes from any and all seriousness. We now continue onto a second paragraph.

When did drinking alcohol become the irrepressible mainstay of adult fun? Please, do not get me wrong: I do not dislike alcohol. The sheer scope of varieties and concoctions are a testament to our species' inherent love of it. Furthermore, I have definitely had a decent fill of it throughout the years. As Amelia can attest, if you put food or drink in front of me, I have a compulsion to consume it; it is in my nature. Separate from that, I do not find it particularly inviting as a daily part of life. I brewed beer solely for the novelty, not for the consumption of its alcohol. I enjoy whisky because it has a certain Scottish allure with a burn at the end that has a manly romanticization from so many Westerns. As for wine, every single time I am offered a glass the health benefits are what usually sway me. Saké and sangria are the only alcoholic liquids I am ever genuinely tempted by in a store or restaurant when there are not social pressures. Even then, I am far more likely to drink juice or water.

Every so often I daydream I have an enzyme that causes alcohol to be less appealing or that certain neurotransmitter receptors are not as beguiled in me as in others. I suspect it is more the fact that I am a bit of a control freak and over the past fifteen years or so I have become less willing to toy with my cerebral cortex and limbic system. I find that on a daily basis, what happens in my noggin is rather sufficient. Do not feel much of a drive to be more talkative, more self-confident, or less socially inhibited. Surely do not feel like my emotions need more free rein, especially publicly. Alcohol will actually inhibit the clarity of my thoughts and dilute the authenticity of what I say and do. That is downright anti-Paul.

Of course, that is the point of alcohol. You hear it often said that alcohol is a social lubricant. It seems nearly every important work or professional function requires it. To build those relationships, to form those bonds, it is a necessity. It allows people to relax. It breaks down all of those barriers humans put into place to shore up the walls of our public persona. Nearly everyone has those entertaining stories of a crazy night out.

I think I understand this, but as with so many things I do not accept it as a requirement. Especially given the fact that it tends to go too far, too often. Two weeks ago, I was biking home from a movie and a driver, who I assume was at least mildly inebriated, was speeding down the street and swerved around another car to almost hit me. I cannot emphasize this enough: that is not how I want me or anyone I care about to die. And, if it was a friend driving that car, they would cease to be my friend by their complete and utter idiocy for driving while utter the influence. It is one of the greatest sins to put others in harm's way without their permission.

On the other front, I am weakening friendships when I am not willing to attend parties or get togethers whose primary form of entertainment is drinking and enjoying its effects. I do not mind hanging out and having a drink. The drink aspect is not normally appealing to me, but I am willing to make that sacrifice to be social, with select people. But, a party where you know most participants will be quite drunk by the end is both unenjoyable and boring. More and more I will skip such an event and spend the night watching a movie or reading a book at home, alone. The consequences to my social life be damned.

I dunno. It's weird. It is another area of civilization where I feel regularly out of place. I read Calvin & Hobbes on a daily basis and on some level I identify far more with them than I do with most of my adult friends. I want to play in the woods, daydream about grand adventures, read about dinosaurs, do slightly reckless things, and all the while be both goofy and philosophical in my conversations. What aspect of adulthood steals that from our souls and replaces it with a need to drink to have fun?