Hang Over Remedies

as submitted to the AARP Bulletin
 

     At 18, you could say I was feeling my oats.

     It was the 70’s, and various states—in their wisdom—had just lowered the drinking age, so my buddies and I thought we’d do our patriotic duty and throw back a few.
     My father only had 2 rules for me: 1) don’t miss my curfew, and 2) don’t drink. Unfortunately, he didn’t add another rule to that short list: 3) don’t be stupid. If he had, I might not have broken the first 2.
     To his credit, my father—whose belt not only held up his pants, but was also in charge of administering justice—didn’t overreact. In fact, he even let me sleep it off.
     When I woke up the next afternoon, hung over didn’t even begin to describe how bad I felt. I didn’t think I was hung over, I thought I was dying. I felt so bad, my teeth even hurt.
     “Hung over?” my Dad asked. He was a man of a few words.
     “Yeah,” I answered, in even fewer.
     “I can cure that.”
     He then took me outside, into our backyard, and handed me a shovel. It was early afternoon, but the day was already hot.
     My Dad told me what he wanted. He wanted me to dig a hole 3 feet wide by three feet long by three feet deep. So I did. I could see he had his belt secured around his waist, and that’s where I wanted it to stay.
     When I was done, he came outside, looked at what I had done, and told me I had dug the hole in the wrong place. So he had me fill it, careful to place the grass back on top, and then dig another hole, 3’ x 3’ x 3’. After doing this same dance several times more, I was tired, sweaty… but no longer hung over.
     “Learned your lesson, son?” my Dad asked me on our last dance.
     “Yes, sir,” I told him, respectfully. I didn’t want to antagonize the man who could keep me blistering my hands into the night.
     “You’re dismissed,” he said, finally. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
     I wasn’t offended. I did stink. How can I be offended by the truth?
     I went inside and took the longest, hottest shower I could get away with.
     My Dad’s 94-years-old now, and lives with my family and I. To this day, every time I get the urge to “throw back” a cold one, if my father’s around, I’ll decide to put what I learned about hang overs remedies to use, and I’ll pass.
 
 

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