There seems to be a lot of hype recently about Jean-Claude Juncker (one of the five, yes five current presidents of the EU) having a drink issue. The Sun even report him as drinking gin instead of water during meetings.
Now I am not sure if any of this is real news, but the picture of him drinking wine during a meeting really annoyed me.
I know for a fact that I could not work as well when I had had a drink and that any decision I made would have been somewhat suspect. But even when I was an alcoholic I never drank during business meetings. I did drink at lunch or at dinner afterwards but whilst the meeting was on, even if it was a working lunch I knew better than to drink alcohol.
With millions of people being dependent upon the decisions this man makes if he does have a drink problem then he needs to seek immediate help (I am willing to offer free advice) and stand down. The same goes for anyone in a position of authority. Although drink is socially acceptable in the Western world I am sure that a photograph of Juncker smoking a joint during a business session would lead to immediate dismissal. Why should taking the alcohol drug be any different.

One thing you really notice when you quit drinking is how much time you have for others. This weekend I had a wonderful time with my grandchildren. We went to the amazing Romney Hythe and Dymchurch railway on the Kent coast. We stayed in a camp site, we had a fire and toasted marshmallows, we swam in the sea and played on my kayak, both children had a go steering my land rover round the field, we had stories and games and then on the way home we went strawberry picking. When I used to drink I remember being too busy to do all these sorts of things, or finding that next pub got in the way. The sheer delight of being able to dedicate my time and attention to these two most special of little people is hard to describe. Why waste your time on booze when you can have so much else to live for.

Out walking in the park that backs on to our house late last night we came across this blazing fire. This is in the middle of a massive field of tinder dry long grass itself surrounded by ancient woodland (if you look closely you can see how near the grass is). The fire was far too big for us to put out so we called the fire brigade who were there within minutes and duly put it out with water throwers. It was obvious from the scattering of beer cans surrounding the fire that a crowd had spent the afternoon here getting drunk and having fun and then simply walked off and left the fire raging. This is on a night when over forty fire engines are in attendance elsewhere trying to put out a massive heath fire probably started by similar idiots.
Even when I used to drink in my youth and might well have had a camp fire going, I still had the sense to put the thing out afterwards!

Last night I was fortunate to go to the IRIS theatre at London’s Covent Garden to see their latest Shakespearian production The Tempest. I loved the whole show and would thoroughly recommend it, especially the way you move around St Paul’s churchyard from scene to scene www.iristheatre.com  The best bit for me was the scene with the three drunks. This was so well played the actors must regularly practice with real alcohol. It was especially amusing to witness the audience reaction when a mock drunken fight started, and the actors moved amongst the audience swaying drunkenly and aiming blows at each other whilst spilling wine (water) over the people nearest to them and looking like complete wreck-heads.

It was also PRIDE day, and so walking from the theatre to catch out train home from Charing Cross we witnessed the aftermath. Not only have I never before seen so much rubbish strewn around, but the streets were also littered with drunks. I can only assume that an afternoon drinking excessively in boiling sunshine at Trafalgar square and with too little water taken on board had been too much for many people. Watching people reeling along, swaying and tripping over the smallest item, it was as if the Shakespearian characters had followed us home!

How nice to wake up with a completely clear and fresh head this morning and not to be suffering some dreadful aftermath as thousands of those we saw last night must be. Thank goodness I can now enjoy watching drunkenness being portrayed and not myself feeling the need to imbibe.
  

For the first time since I quit alcohol over 5 years ago I dreamt of having a drink last night. Quite what brought the dream on I have no idea but this is the nub of it.

I was due to have a very important meeting with a potential customer but my brother called me to meet him for a drink and said it was urgent. As he died some years ago (from alcohol liver failure) I wanted to see him, so duly went to the appointed pub to meet him thinking I could still make the important meeting later. The pub was empty and I remember the owner being disheartened that I hadn’t been in for many years (I seemed to recall the pub from about thirty years ago), my brother then turned up an ordered two pints of what looked like a cross between cider and lager.  This is where it all got very confusing. I remember being nervous of having that drink because I didn’t want to feel drunk and ill but when I tasted it, it tasted of nothing and so I drank it down and immediately shouted that what was the point of having just one, let’s get drunk! Then I remembered the prospect I was due to meet and realized I was already late for the appointment and that they would be waiting for me. I went outside and realised now couldn’t drive as I had been drinking and so I tried to phone them but deleted all the numbers in my phone by mistake and then phone seemed to melt in my hand. I recall feeling very stressed about all of this and then I woke up.

I don’t normally remember dreams but this one I did for some reason. The overlying feeling was the hopelessness of the situation and the fact I was letting so many people down including myself just because of drink. I also recall feeling angry that my brother insisted on meeting me for a drink knowing I no longer drink, and then confused as to why I wasn’t able to stop at one and was insisting on getting smashed.

It just shows I can never drink again, and reaffirms every reason why I would never want to drink again. Thank God that none of this is a reality.