Sunny day
Drinking at Yanagibashi in Nagoya.
Drunkenness is a strange thing. My consciousness expands, and new inspirations and ideas come to me in rapid succession (though I forget about them the next day).
Someone once likened sake to a gift from God, and strictly speaking, drunkenness is something to be treasured.
So, even though I am a heavy drinker, I am not particular about the brand or type of sake I drink. Beer, shochu, highballs, cocktails. I drink according to how I feel when I want to get drunk. So, when it comes to sake, I can only remember “Hakutsuru” or “Gekkeikan. I can’t remember where the wine comes from, France? Chile? Italy? Naturally, I don’t know. I only know the difference between white and red.
Once, in an essay by Shotaro Ikenami (I vaguely remember), he wrote, “When Mr. Kenichi Yoshida (a literary critic) takes me out for a drink, he doesn’t care about the brand or anything, he just says, ‘Please give me some hot sake. (He went on to say that a restaurant that served good hot sake was definitely a good place to go.) I think this is a perfect example of a real drunkard seeking “drunkenness” above all else.
I have always prided myself on my ability to control this “drunkenness,” but it seems that it is indeed waning a bit, and I often forget what I have said. As those who are strong drinkers will probably sympathize with me, it is precisely because I can control this “drunkenness” that I can enjoy drinking. I can play with my consciousness while being aware of my “deep drunkenness. This is exactly how one masters the mental “Drunken Fist” (an old Jackie Chan movie).
What will we do when our ability to control our intoxication weakens? This is also a challenge for the future.
If that’s the case, then just don’t drink,” he says, “you’re absolutely right. But I can’t help it. Because alcohol is a gift from God.
While drinking more and more, determined not to be defeated by the north wind.
