Dear Luv Doc,
My husband doesn’t drink often, but when he does he drinks a lot – too much in my opinion. It’s hard for me to complain about it because he almost never drinks around our house. He might very occasionally have some wine with dinner or maybe a beer on a hot day, but he doesn’t really drink much at all unless he is: 1) Out with friends at a game/concert 2) Camping or on vacation 3) During the holidays or when we’re visiting his family in Houston. It wouldn’t really be a problem if he just drank a moderate amount like other people, but once he starts he just keeps going. He is a big guy and he can drink a lot and still function, but it aways catches up with him eventually and he’s a lot to deal with. He gets louder and talkative and when I point it out he teases me about being a party pooper. He also teases our kids and friends – sometimes to the point where they’ve gotten upset. He always apologizes later. He says he’s just having fun but people’s feelings do get hurt. At least he lets me drive when he’s drinking, but I don’t like being around him when he drinks too much. I have brought this up with him before and he says he’s always been this way, that it’s “who he really is,” but it’s not. Most of the time he’s a nice, sweet caring husband and dad. How can I get him to slow his roll?
– Mrs. Party Pooper
My godfather – Uncle Pat – a former aircraft mechanic, bon vivant, and a fellow who I’m guessing has seen the bottom of his share of liquor bottles – once gave me some really sage advice that I ignored. I was telling him about a fondness for reposado tequila that I had developed in my 40s and he said, “You know, you only get one liver, so you probably ought to take care of it.” I thought, “What’s he on about? It’s not like I’m Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas.” Yes, in my mind I sometimes talk like a character from a Guy Ritchie film, but we’ll save that for another column. Anyway, smash cut to me sitting in my gastroenterologist’s office getting the news that I have a fatty liver. I make a nervous pâté joke. He informs me that fatty liver is one of the last stops on the way to cirrhosis of the liver. Cirrhosis is just an unnecessarily ugly word that means you have a good chance of ending up at the bottom of a list you would prefer to be at the top of. Oh, and just in case you’re reading this and you’re a binge drinker and an Aggie, I’m going to spell it out for you: I’m talking about a liver donor list. No one – not even an Aggie – wants to have to rely on the kindness of strangers.
Drunk Luv Doc and sober Luv Doc are basically the same guy, it’s just that one is way stupider and has shittier motor skills – well, with the exception of Flip Cup and billiards.
So, in an effort to not die a long, slow, sad death, I cut down on my alcohol consumption – like … way down … like … stopped drinking alcohol altogether. I went cold turkey for about six months and I learned something about myself. Rather than only letting out all of my wild, unfiltered, insane thoughts when I was drinking, I began letting them out when I was sober. I also found that they came out much more articulately – perhaps even poetically? In short, I became much more insufferable in my day-to-day life. Everything has a cost, doesn’t it? No one really requested sober Luv Doc, but that’s what they got. Drunken Noodle got taken off the menu. I know you’re probably way ahead of me on this, but I found out that drunk Luv Doc and sober Luv Doc are basically the same guy, it’s just that one is way stupider and has shittier motor skills – well, with the exception of Flip Cup and billiards.
I also learned that sober Luv Doc was pretty good at compartmentalization (and they say you don’t learn anything in therapy! How about a seven-syllable word?). The drunk party animal was me! I was in the room the whole time! Drunk me was sober me, so there really wasn’t a good reason to have that seventh Ranch Water. Like your husband, I can still put it down – the drink, I mean – like I used to do when I had to be functional. I still drink, I just don’t drink like I am trying to become someone else. Someone funner. Someone more likable or entertaining. I’m not exactly sure how I got here. I just know that I did. I also know that now I am Uncle Pat, the godfather, and I don’t expect anyone to listen, but I think the key to easing up on drinking is finding that sense of joy and playfulness without feeling like alcohol is the conduit.
Listen to The Luv Doc Podcast about this week’s Luv Doc column!This article appears in August 1 • 2025.
