CHAPTER IV: Those Who Have Suffered in Vain
Owing to a worldwide acquaintance
among men who drink my personal determination to quit
still excites the patronizing inquiry, “Still
on the wagon?” when I meet old friends.
That used to make me angry, but it does not any more.
I say, “Yes!” take my mineral water and
pass on to other things. But the position of
those who quit and go back to it, and seek to excuse
the return by saying, “Oh, I only stopped to
see whether I could. I found it was easy; so
I began again!” now is that not the
sublimation of piffle? The fact that any man who
salves himself with this sort of statement and
hundreds do did go back does not prove that
he could quit, but that he could not!
I can understand why a man, having
tried both sides of the game, should conclude that
the rigors and restraints of not drinking overbalance
the compensations and take up the practice again;
but I cannot understand why a man should be so great
a hypocrite with himself as to assign a reason like
that for his renewal of the habit. No man quits
just to see whether he can quit. Every man quits
because he personally thinks he ought to quit for
whatever his personal reason may be. And he begins
again because he concludes the game is not worth playing,
which means that he is not able to play it not
that it lacks merit.
When you come to sum it all up general
reasons for drinking are as absurd as general reasons
for not drinking. It is entirely an individual
proposition. I concluded it was a bad thing for
me to drink. I know now I was right. But and
here is the point it may be a good thing
for my neighbor to drink. He must judge of that
himself. Personally I cannot see that it is a
good thing for any man to drink; but I am no judge.
I am influenced in my conclusions, not by a broad
view of the situation as it applies to my fellows
but by an intensely narrow view as it applies to myself.
Hence what I have concluded in the matter may be uncharitable may
smack of Puritanism and may not be supported by general
facts; but I am writing about my own experiences, not
those of any other person whatever.
My occupation takes me to all parts
of the world and has for twenty-five years. It
has caused me to make friends with all sorts of people
in all sorts of places and in all sorts of circumstances.
I early discovered that, as I was a gregarious person
and intent on doing the best for myself that I possibly
could, it was necessary for me to cultivate the friendship
of men of affairs; and it became apparent to me that
many men of affairs take an occasional drink.
Naturally I took an occasional drink with them, having
no prejudices in the matter and being of open mind.
I am big and husky, and mix well; and the result was
I acquired as extensive a line of convivial acquaintances,
across this country and across Europe, as any person
of your acquaintance. To some extent my friendship
with these men was predicated on having a few drinks
with them. I fell in with their ways or they
fell in with mine; and as my association in almost
every city, among the men with whom I worked and the
men I met, is based largely on entertainment of one
kind or another generally with some alcohol
in it my life was ordered that way for
two decades. And I had a heap of fun. There
was no sottishness about it, no solitary drinking,
no drinking for drink’s sake, no drunkenness.
It was all jollity and really innocent enough a
case of good fellows having a good time together.
However, there was a good deal of
rum consumed one way and another. Then three
and a half years ago, after a long caucus with myself,
I quit. I decided I had played that game long
enough and would begin to play another. It may
be I did not know or figure out as concretely as I
have figured out since just what I was doing when
I quit. It may be! Still, that has nothing
to do with the case. I quit and I have stayed
quit and I have quit forever. So all
that is coming to me in the premises is based on my
own determination, as all has been that has come, and
I have no complaints to make; and if I made any I
should expect to get a punch in the eye for making
them and deserve one.
Passing over the physical and mental
sides of the fight which, I may assure
you, were annoying enough to suit the most exacting
advocate of the old policy of mortifying the flesh
and disciplining the mind there came eventually
the necessity of learning how to keep in the game on
a water basis or, rather, of learning how
to keep in such portions of the game as seemed worth
while on a soft-drink schedule. I was too old
to form many new ties. I had accumulated a farflung
line of drinking men as friends. They were mostly
the men with whom association was a pleasure as
in politics the villains are always the good fellows and
I did not want to lose them, however willing they
were to lose me.
There came, however, with my mineral-water
view, a discriminatory sense that was not enjoyed
in the highball period that is to say, I
found, observed with the cold and mayhap critical
eye of abstinence, that a number of those with whom
I was wont to associate needed the softening glow
radiated by the liquor in me to make them as good as
I had previously thought they were. There were
some I found I did not miss, and more came to the
same conclusion about me. They were all right fine! when
seen or heard through ears and eyes that had been
affected by the genial charitableness of a couple or
three cocktails; but when seen or heard with no adventitious
appliances on my part save ginger ale they were rather
depressing and I am quite sure they held
the same views about me.