It started so well. My parents told me to join the International Order of Good Templars at around eight years. All my friends were there already, so I did as I was told.
OK, we had lots of fun. But I had no idea what the deeper meaning of it all was. No-one told us.
I grew up and moved and found that a beer or two could be nice. Still not knowing that I wasn’t supposed to. Until I met people from my childhood and asked them to come with me to the pub. “Sorry, can’t do, we are IOGT members” they said. “So am I” I said. “Why can’t you? No money? I pay!” A little late to discover what the IOGT was all about. Perhaps.
Then moved to Stockholm for schools and work and then, traveled all over the world. Old Eastern Germany was worst - very often a couple of Schnaps and beers in the morning. But the Westerners were also good drinkers. Not to speak about the French. But their days started with a Côte du Rhone or several. Back then, a Dry Martini was the standard drink whenever colleagues met in the US. And I met with many.
It was only several years into retirement that the (Russian) doctor told me that “Yorr livverr is kaputt” and told me stop drinking alcohol. You shall always do what the doctor says. So, I did.
That is when I started smoking instead.
End of story.
