A Week Without a Beer: The Beer Diaries

I love beer. I love domestic beers and foreign beers and craft beers. I love beer from bottles and beer from cans and beer from taps. I love stouts and lagers and IPA’s and pilsners. I love regular beers and light beers. I love drinking beer and buying beer and thinking about buying and drinking beer. I love a beer in the shower and a beer after work and a beer before bed. 

And I really, really love beer while watching a ballgame.

Is this an unhealthy obsession? That is exactly what I aimed to find out. 

For those of you in the know, Chelbys Pizza—a place where I should have my mail delivered—was closed for two weeks while the owners were on vacation, so this seemed like an ideal time for a personal experiment. 

My intent was to go one full week without having a single beer, total beer abstinence. You’ve heard of “A Year Without a Santa Clause,” well, get ready for “A Week Without a Beer.” I vowed to keep a daily journal about my odyssey, exploring my thoughts and feelings without beer.

From Sunday, July 6 through midnight on Sunday, July 13, I would willfully become a poor beer-less soul. 

Sunday, July 6

The Red Sox played a matinee today, and normally, I spend my Sundays on our three-season porch, watching sports and drinking glorious beer. Not today. Instead of beer, I bought an eight-pack of 603 Hard Seltzers, which are brewed in Londonderry along with some fantastic beer, and watched the baseball game on the porch anyway. 

While the hard seltzers certainly aren’t bad, it is certainly not beer. The Red Sox won, sweeping the lowly Nationals, and I wanted to celebrate with a beer. There are exactly 10 Bud Lights in the mini-fridge in my basement that I foolishly forgot to finish before embarking on this quest. 

I can hear them speaking to me now. “Nate, we’re lonely. Nate, why are you doing this to us?” 

“Shut up, Bud Light,” I say and cover my ears with my hands.    

Monday, July 7

I lay in bed all morning, in the air conditioning, thinking about my best beers. There is the first beer each Friday at Chelbys Pizza—currently closed for two weeks—after my college class finishes, and I’m done teaching for the week. 

Then there is the beer at Delta Dental Stadium during a matinee game on a hot summer day, paired with a steamed hot dog with mustard and relish from packets. 

But the absolute best beer is the beer after mowing the lawn, sweat-drenched and parched, my skin speckled with dirt and dead grass. 

It looks like the lawn will go untended this week.

Tuesday, July 8

My wife and I went grocery shopping at Hannaford’s this afternoon, buying food to throw on the grill—oh, how I love drinking beer while grilling! Things were fairly uneventful until my wife asked me to grab some seltzer water, and I realized the seltzer water was in the same aisle as the beer! 

Odious wench! Thou shall not break me! 

The Red Sox are playing the AAA Colorado Rockies again tonight. I suppose I have some of those 603 Hard Seltzers left. Or maybe I’ll just go to bed. 

Addendum: Bryan Bello threw a complete game. I guess I’ll celebrate with a white wine-spritzer. 

Wednesday, July 9

No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. No beer all day makes Nate a dull boy. 

Thursday, July 10

Today is overcast and chillier than it has been lately, which makes it a perfect day to saddle up on a barstool and drink a few beers. But I will not. In fact, the cooler weather makes it feel a little more like a coffee-type of afternoon—brew a cup and sip some black coffee while working through the edits on my book.

It’s the hot weather that really makes my soul scream for a cold beer. In fact, I firmly adhere to Jimmy’s Law, which was created by my Uncle Jimmy—who is right up with Ben Franklin on the list of legendary beer drinkers. 

Jimmy’s Law states that as soon as the temperature, on any given day, reaches 90 degrees or above that a person may drink a beer with complete impunity and without questions from anyone. For example, a person may be out shopping with their spouse, walking around a department store while said spouse tries on clothing. If it reaches 90 degrees outside, it is permissible for that person to leave the store, find a bar nearby and order a beer without their spouse asking why they left or complaining about their impetuous exit. 

‘Tis be the Word of my Uncle Jimmy. Praise be.

Friday, July 11

Every Friday night, I have beers at Chelbys with my friends. Often my wife will join us as well. There is usually a decent crowd of Friday night regulars to celebrate the end of the work week. The mood is usually convivial and light, sometimes a little raucous as the night wears on—sometimes we talk too much and laugh too loud.

But I’ve started a bit of a tradition on Friday nights. After having consumed a few pints of Bud Light, on the TouchTunes jukebox, I’ll play Ike Reilly’s song “Don’t Turn Your Back on Friday Night.” 

This Friday night, Chelbys is closed, and I’ve almost gone an entire week without a beer. But I’m going to fix a drink and play it anyway. Go ahead, give it a listen.

Saturday, July 12

I’ve done it. I went seven days, 168 hours, 10,080 minutes, 604,800 seconds without a single drop of beer. While Saturday night was challenging, I managed to stay caged at home—aided somewhat by what hockey teams would label a “lower body injury” that prevented me from indulging in anything other than a “Law and Order: Special Victims Unit” marathon from the couch. 

Meanwhile, the Red Sox haven’t lost a game since I stopped drinking beer, and now they’re heading into the All-Star Break with a potential 10-game winning streak¹. However, I’m going to apply some logic to the situation and assume this is correlation not causation. 

Chelbys opens again on Monday, and I can’t wait to text my friend Brian with my favorite interrogative sentence, although the question is somewhat rhetorical: “Do you want to grab a beer?”    

1. Indeed, they won again on Sunday, sweeping Tampa Bay and increasing their winning streak to 10 games going into the All-Star Break. ↩︎

You can reach Nate Graziano at ngrazio5@yahoo.com