This past Sunday evening, the Indianapolis Colts defeated the Chicago Bears in Super Bowl XLI by the score of who cares to why ask. I do like football, especially college football but when it comes to the NFL and the Dallas Cowboys are not involved - well, its just tough for me to care. That said, by virtue of living in Indiana the Colts have become my adopted team ... even though I really don't like Peyton Manning.
Anyway, the real point of this post is me. We had a Super Bowl party and a had a decent turnout, not too big and bot too small. We had two TVs going in separate rooms so people could spread out, food was abundant, and booze flowed like Klingon blood wine... uh, nevermind.
You know that moment at a party when you decide, "fuck it, I'm getting drunk"? Well, early in the 2nd quarter that moment happened for/to me. And after half-time I became "Dave." Dave is my intoxicated alter ego. I was yelling, chest-bumping, high-fiving, cursing, making horrible off-color jokes (I think I said something along the lines of "If I became America's 1st Jewish President, I would Jew America down and make the Monday after Super Bowl Sunday a National Holiday.") In my mind it was comedic gold, but after sobering up my wife pointed out that it didn't even make sense - I argued, but she was right - it was a horrible joke that may require defending myself against future charges of anti-semitism.
Nevertheless, I had a blast. It's been a long while since I've been "Dave" and if my buddy Sol had been there, we probably would have "wrastled" breaking something in the process. It was that kind of drunk - the good-time, happy-go-lucky, damn I'm funny, much louder than necessary, I don't know you but I love you, annoying-the-shit-out-of-most-everyone-else-around-but-I-don't-give-a-flying-fuck type of drunk. Good times.
Its a rarity these days, and one a I pay a heftier price for as I approach the precipice of 30, but once in a blue moon its still worth it.
Cheers.
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