Sunday: Give All Thanks and Praise to Bacchus!

I have a confession to make.

I think that the best drinkin' day of the week is...Sunday.

Yep, the Lord's own day. When even he took it easy.

There does seem to be an onus on gettin' down on Sunday. If you think about it, though, the events of Friday and Saturday are often active and planned. You have been waiting all week for the respite and you jump in with both feet. Sunday seemed to me, for the longest time, to be the day to come back to reality and get ready to face the anaseptic sting of Monday.

Recently, though, I have found that there is an easy, loose pace to drinking on Sunday. No, this is not just a football season thing, although it can be part of it. It seems like a day for relaxing, reflecting and knocking back a few (or more) drinks as you ease into another week like an old man into a hot bath (to paraphrase George Costanza on the sinking of the Andrea Doria).

It is a day for rich and satisfying drinks and similar conversation. Just read, listen to music, write, sculpt, get a few people together for drinks and conversation. It is the perfect mellow capstone.

I am not a regular churchgoer, but I suppose that you could incorporate any religious obligations. They are over by late morning anyway. So stop by the liquor store on the way home and pick up some Old Style. Why OS? Because it's "pure brewed in God's country!" Hell, the big guy whips the stuff up. So why not?

It is a day for lounge pants, slippers and ignoring the phone. Try it and thank me later.

(Here again, those geniuses at Modern Drunkard have a great piece on the "lost weekend," of which there is a large Sunday component. Here is a link to the piece. Read and learn.)