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Here we start Hangover Week, insipired by our neighborhood bar guide.
My colleague (and better man) Steve Bogira wrote a column as a Chicago Tribune staffer in 1979 in which he considered the many ways to say one is drunk (the Trib hired teenagers as staffers at the time; Steve was a precocious journalist): here are a few: polluted, reeking, stinko, blitzed, bombed. There's more, though not availabe via a link; Steve existed before the Internet did.
But my favorite lingo that Steve mentioned back then is "featured": in which one "was inspired to believe strongly in his ability to sing a song, to tell a funny story, or to execute a dance."
I have never felt "featured" enough to execute a dance. I can't execute a dance while sober. Though thank god Facebook didn't exist when I was younger.
Maybe I'm the best Reader staffer to introduce Hangover Week, as before I became a lowly paid journalist, I was a highly paid bartender .
I've had some dingers of hangovers. Always said "Never again. (Then ... again.) My standard remedy was a can of Dr Pepper and a dill pickle. (Believe me, it works, though some professionals have better remedies).
But there's always a new day. Get up, shake yourself off, have a Dr P and dill pickle and move on. See you at the bar.