I wrote this draft just before leaving our home in the desert last spring. I had found this paradise very, very depressing. I will never know if it was caused by loneliness, you can’t replace longterm friendships overnight and have never been known for my patience. We lived on a beautiful country club, the weather was mostly perfect, we will overlook the days that were 115 degrees. I never felt I could write about how depressing I found it, because I did not want to hurt anyones feelings and frankly I could not think of much that was cheerful and funny. But now as I am updating this blog and feeling like my old self, I found this draft and I think you might like it.
Strangely enough after living here in retirement jail for a year, and on the eve of my parole, I got my ability to see small details back. While pushing my cart through the aisles of my neighborhood market I realized that this particular market had an unusually large alcoholic beverage section, three or four long aisles of every possible spirit known to man.
I then began to realize that every market, discount emporium, drug store and Costco seemed to have way more alcohol for sale than in Los Angeles. Was this my imagination or had I stumbled on to something. Keeping in mind that LA isn’t a small sleepy town in the mid-west and having a son who is a musician/bartender I am very aware of the amount of liquor young people drink. Still, I had never seen so much alcohol in supermarkets, my brain started to ask “do people without any real purpose, drink more”?
I remembered that my Mother had never had a drinking problem until she and my Father moved to Florida. My Dad continued to return to Boston every other week to oversee his business, but my Mother had very little to do from November thru April and eventually they gave up their house up north and just stayed in Miami. Is that when she started to drink every day?
I didn’t notice how much she was drinking until she came to live with me in Los Angeles for a brief period after my Father died. She would have my son or the housekeeper buy her bottles of Gin, which she kept in her closet. Eventually, she insisted upon moving back to Florida, all this while she was in her eighties.
This was as far as I had gotten with this blog. I believe I will continue to ponder this and perhaps have some new thoughts, this is probably a blog I would like some feedback, let me know if any of you have noticed more alcohol consumption in retirement settings.