If I'd called this blog "The Sober Epicure" or, perhaps, "epicurean". I swear to god, when I think of the limitations those words imply, I can't think of a thing to write, whereas "The Sober Epicure(an)" is much more descriptive of me. I want to get high-falutin' now and then, and I have here, so I've let the name and the promise down. But limiting me let's me down.
I chose bourgeois philistine because there are a lot of enjoyable things that fall within the clichéd, mundane, trite realm...and I wanted to defend those things. Funny thing is, that having chosen then path, suddenly it seemed that I couldn't find any attcks on them. There are some, yet, but they just seem to be jokes and I don't want to be a stuffed shirt attacking comedians. As long as they're funny. The jokes I don't think are funny are usually political, and I have another blog for dealing with those.
"Sober Epicure" also wouldn't have been very descriptive of me when I started this blog. I suppose I could have discussed the qualities and tastes of the various cheap beers and malt liquors and the value of swilling them down in great quantities, but I guess I never really felt proud enough of doing that to want to brag about it. I was quite the master at sneaking off to the liquor store, hiding my beer and hiding the empties as well. The pride in those great accomplishments didn't last any longer than it took to do them. Then it was time to drink.
But I have learned, quite literally to smell the roses and to really deeply feel a cool, crisp glass of water. To sense enjoyable things with as many senses as possible at once.
And, now it's time to enjoy the sensation of my blankets and pillow as I slowly dive into my unconscious mind.
