Fancy celebrating ‘No Fun February’ or ‘Moderation March?’

THERE’S no let-up. It’s only a few months since we had Sober October and now we are a week into Lent. It could be the words sober and October come together in some form of assonance and that was the reason why October was picked. Sober October is catchy and stays in the head.

Then as if that was not bad enough, on comes the Holy Souls in November.

Sober October seems to have done away with the Holy Souls, as has the secession of November by December. The Christmas parties start up now in the last week in November because in Dublin, where the money is, there are so many parties the only way to fit them all in is for December to steal a week from November. Hence the secularisation of going off the drink.

Does anyone go off the drink anymore for the sake of the Holy Souls?

I’m not sure of my facts here, but saving the Holy Souls from a place of incarceration where they will never have to wear an overcoat seems to have been the reason why Catholics abstained for November, which is also the month for remembering our beloved and lost.

The first time I was ever read from the altar was when I wrote a piece in ‘The Kerryman’ about the strange ritual of lapping graveyards. This gallop around cemeteries had nothing to do with a pre-Christmas slimming regime.

It had to do with the freeing up of souls who were locked up in Limbo. There was a priest who knew for a fact that if you circumnavigated your local cemeteries 11 (or maybe it was 12) times, well then the reward was the freeing up of a loved one from Limbo. Maybe he had a chat with the Governor of Limbo.

I wasn’t really in the mood for much research and I didn’t do much this time either due to the fact cousins from America were on their way to visit. I was sure they were day people.

Whole tracts of America suffer from national narcolepsy. They go to bed around the same time we go out for a pint. But then it turns out Dassie and Julie, the cousins, are the very same as ourselves and are seriously good fun.

I tried to tell them about Limbo.

Limbo was invented by the Church to keep people on the straight and narrow. Limbo is a kind of half-way house between Heaven and Hell.

Anyway, I doubted the existence of Limbo and the priest read me off the altar. I was delighted. The old man had been read off the altar loads of times and I kind of felt I was letting the family down because no one ever read me off the altar.

I’m not going to read the priest off the paper because he’s dead and I wouldn’t like to scupper his chance of getting out of Limbo. It’s not fair to have a go at the dead in the paper unless they did something very, very bad. The dead can’t answer back and there is no redress in the courts if they’re libelled.

I’ve been read off the altar many times since, but nearly always in a positive way. There are some great men giving sermons these days who are in touch with their parishioners, unlike some of the lads at the very top of the Church who are against women priests, men priests and the welcoming of gay people.

The Lenten sermons now are less to do with giving up drink and sweets and more to do with carrying out acts of kindness and donating to worthy causes.

There was a ceasefire for Christmas when all the people who went off the drink for Sober October and/or the Holy Souls drank all the drink they went off, in one long binge.

Most of those who went off the drink saw it only as pre-season break, like the footballers get over the winter. There was a sense of entitlement.

After Christmas comes Dry January, when we all know January is the wettest month of the year. January is miserable enough without having to go off the drink. And just like Sober October finished off the chances of the sinners’ light getting to Heaven, Dry January will do away with Lent.

Last week the night before Lent was celebrated with a big feed of pancakes in Ireland, and a big black spot of ashes was daubed on our foreheads to remind us we are going to die.

In Brazil, they had loads of semi-naked girls dancing in the streets, while here it was a case of if I eat another pancake I’ll burst.

Once again this year, I went off the broccoli.

One must make sacrifices.

Sober October, the Holy Souls, Dry January and Lent comes to 18 weeks in all, which is more than a third of the entire year off the drink.

IKNOW – I’m a publican and the takings are down. Last night, a sound man called Seamus gave in a €100 note for his drinks. I was going to frame it like the bar people used to do when Jack Charlton tried to pay for his pint with a cheque.

Is there any medical expert who has the courage to say coming out to the pub and meeting people is good for our mental health?

Talk is good and there’s no measure of that in the reports. There is no balance, no honesty and no measuring of the benefits of taking a moderate amount every now and then.

I don’t want people drinking themselves to death. There are many more who are never placed in statistics who would be long dead but for the bit of company in the local pub and the freedom of speech after a few drinks.

I came out in favour of the reduced drink driving limits and lost friends as a result. Lives will be saved – but how many lives will be lost through loneliness and isolation?

There’s this thing called fun and fun is good for us. So what’s next? No Fun February or Miserable March?

When Lent is over, what about Moderation May or Just A Few June?