I was reading the New York Times today on my lunch break, like you do, and I ran across an entertaining article about a guy by the name of Justin O. Schmidt, an entomologist who lives in Arizona. This bug expert, after being stung by 150 different species on six continents, decided to create what is known as the Schmidt Sting Pain index. His pain index is on Wikipedia if you’re interested: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schmidt_Sting_Pain_Index.
Mr. Schmidt’s Sting Pain Index starts at 0 and goes up to 4.0+. One of his descriptions actually reads like a Robert Parker wine rating. Witness his description of the bald-faced hornet sting: “Rich, hearty, slightly crunchy. Similar to getting your hand mashed in a revolving door.” Man, that’s really gotta hurt! And that only rated a 2.0 on his sting pain index. Imagine what a 4.0+ must feel like.
Living in Florida as a kid, I’ve had many run-ins with winged things that sting. As a result of all of the beautiful, tropical flowers and plants that are native to the west coast of Florida, the place is rife with bees and other large, scary insects. Being an obnoxious but normal kid, I tormented wasps and paid the price for it, getting stung on the inside of my upper arm once after banging on a clothesline pole in our backyard, knowing full well that wasps were living in the aforementioned pole, and that I was playing with fire (I’d give the wasp sting a rating of 1.2 on the sting pain index). Yes, I most deservedly got what was coming to me. I didn’t, however, deserve to get stung by a dead yellow jacket when, out of curiosity, I picked up a dead body laying on our front doorstep to give it a close examination, only to discover that those bastards can still fracking sting, even after death. Remembering the level of pain and how loudly I screamed, I’d give that sting a 2.0+ on the Schmidt Sting Pain Index. I was about five or six years old when that happened. Some things are never forgotten, especially the most painful lessons.
Because my mind works in very strange ways, as do my thought processes, this started me thinking about creating a Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index, similar to Mr. Schmidt’s.
Note: This won’t include potential killers such as doing something stupid like drinking shots of tequila at a going away party for your best friend from college. Nor will this include drinking screwdrivers from a pitcher without having any food in your stomach whatsoever. We all know that those experiences would be so far to the north on the Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index that they could possibly require a trip to the hospital in an ambulance. So, let’s not go there, okay?
The Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index would go something like this:
1.0 - Two or three glasses of Sauvignon Blanc with a couple of shrimp appetizers: You feel a little tired the next day and you’re thirsty. Slightly annoying but a quick recovery can be made.
2.0 - One bottle of low-alcohol sparkling wine and two glasses of red wine with cheese and crackers, possibly some fruit, maybe a wimpy lettuce salad: It seemed like a good idea at the time but the next day your head hurts, your mouth feels like someone threw dried straw into it, and you’re so crabby your co-workers wonder what’s wrong with you.
3.0 - Two glasses of Chardonnay, one glass of Cabernet Sauvignon (an extra large one like you get at “The Keg”), and an after dinner glass (okay two glasses) of port (and a big ol’ fat stogie, to boot): You were so smashed by the time the main course came you didn’t eat much. Your head feels like it’s being crushed between a steel vise, you’re weak, and you think you just might vomit at the sight of your co-worker eating a Mickey D’s breakfast burrito at your morning meeting. After drinking five cups of coffee and a quart and a half of water, you tell everyone that you think you’re coming down with something and you need to go home. Only sleep and time can cure this pain.
4.0 – Several large plastic cups of red wine (probably CMS or Charles Shaw, depending on how much your friends had to spend on their wedding reception wine budget): You’re pretty certain you’re going to die (if not, someone please kill you now to put you out of your misery). You lost count of how much you drank because you didn’t know anyone else at your friend’s wedding reception. You realized, too late, that this was the worst mistake you’ve ever made in your life. You couldn’t crawl to the phone to dial 911 if you wanted to. Your body feels like it’s transforming into a Werewolf, or worse yet, into a Vampire. You vomit in your bathroom until you get the dry heaves. You don’t know whether to shit yourself or puke at this point so you do both, at the same time. You’re an atheist but suddenly you start believing in God and you make a pact with Him and yourself that if you live through this, you’ll NEVER DRINK AGAIN. And you’ll start going to church on Sundays – no, not just Sundays but Wednesdays AND Sundays. You promise God that you’ll read the Bible from beginning to end. All of that “begatting” in the book of Genesis will have you riveted to the pages. You swear to never have unprotected sex again. Okay, perhaps you will, but you won’t enjoy it! You swear on a stack of Gideons to never make fun of your abusive, stupid ex-spouse again. You promise to work in a soup kitchen for the homeless for the next three weekends (unless your boss wants you to work overtime). You feel like someone has kicked you in the head with steel-toed boots and your chest feels funny. Is that a bright light that you see? Don’t go toward the light!!! Oh, that was just the bathroom light blinding you as you wake up after being passed out on the bathroom floor for a few hours. Phew. You think you just might live to see another friend get married. Your last thoughts before you crawl into bed are, “How did I get home last night? I hope didn’t have unprotected sex with anyone.”
So there you have it: The Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index. Some sound advice to you all – drink responsibly (and always carry a condom). And stay away from stinging insects.
Mr. Schmidt’s Sting Pain Index starts at 0 and goes up to 4.0+. One of his descriptions actually reads like a Robert Parker wine rating. Witness his description of the bald-faced hornet sting: “Rich, hearty, slightly crunchy. Similar to getting your hand mashed in a revolving door.” Man, that’s really gotta hurt! And that only rated a 2.0 on his sting pain index. Imagine what a 4.0+ must feel like.
Living in Florida as a kid, I’ve had many run-ins with winged things that sting. As a result of all of the beautiful, tropical flowers and plants that are native to the west coast of Florida, the place is rife with bees and other large, scary insects. Being an obnoxious but normal kid, I tormented wasps and paid the price for it, getting stung on the inside of my upper arm once after banging on a clothesline pole in our backyard, knowing full well that wasps were living in the aforementioned pole, and that I was playing with fire (I’d give the wasp sting a rating of 1.2 on the sting pain index). Yes, I most deservedly got what was coming to me. I didn’t, however, deserve to get stung by a dead yellow jacket when, out of curiosity, I picked up a dead body laying on our front doorstep to give it a close examination, only to discover that those bastards can still fracking sting, even after death. Remembering the level of pain and how loudly I screamed, I’d give that sting a 2.0+ on the Schmidt Sting Pain Index. I was about five or six years old when that happened. Some things are never forgotten, especially the most painful lessons.
Because my mind works in very strange ways, as do my thought processes, this started me thinking about creating a Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index, similar to Mr. Schmidt’s.
Note: This won’t include potential killers such as doing something stupid like drinking shots of tequila at a going away party for your best friend from college. Nor will this include drinking screwdrivers from a pitcher without having any food in your stomach whatsoever. We all know that those experiences would be so far to the north on the Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index that they could possibly require a trip to the hospital in an ambulance. So, let’s not go there, okay?
The Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index would go something like this:
1.0 - Two or three glasses of Sauvignon Blanc with a couple of shrimp appetizers: You feel a little tired the next day and you’re thirsty. Slightly annoying but a quick recovery can be made.
2.0 - One bottle of low-alcohol sparkling wine and two glasses of red wine with cheese and crackers, possibly some fruit, maybe a wimpy lettuce salad: It seemed like a good idea at the time but the next day your head hurts, your mouth feels like someone threw dried straw into it, and you’re so crabby your co-workers wonder what’s wrong with you.
3.0 - Two glasses of Chardonnay, one glass of Cabernet Sauvignon (an extra large one like you get at “The Keg”), and an after dinner glass (okay two glasses) of port (and a big ol’ fat stogie, to boot): You were so smashed by the time the main course came you didn’t eat much. Your head feels like it’s being crushed between a steel vise, you’re weak, and you think you just might vomit at the sight of your co-worker eating a Mickey D’s breakfast burrito at your morning meeting. After drinking five cups of coffee and a quart and a half of water, you tell everyone that you think you’re coming down with something and you need to go home. Only sleep and time can cure this pain.
4.0 – Several large plastic cups of red wine (probably CMS or Charles Shaw, depending on how much your friends had to spend on their wedding reception wine budget): You’re pretty certain you’re going to die (if not, someone please kill you now to put you out of your misery). You lost count of how much you drank because you didn’t know anyone else at your friend’s wedding reception. You realized, too late, that this was the worst mistake you’ve ever made in your life. You couldn’t crawl to the phone to dial 911 if you wanted to. Your body feels like it’s transforming into a Werewolf, or worse yet, into a Vampire. You vomit in your bathroom until you get the dry heaves. You don’t know whether to shit yourself or puke at this point so you do both, at the same time. You’re an atheist but suddenly you start believing in God and you make a pact with Him and yourself that if you live through this, you’ll NEVER DRINK AGAIN. And you’ll start going to church on Sundays – no, not just Sundays but Wednesdays AND Sundays. You promise God that you’ll read the Bible from beginning to end. All of that “begatting” in the book of Genesis will have you riveted to the pages. You swear to never have unprotected sex again. Okay, perhaps you will, but you won’t enjoy it! You swear on a stack of Gideons to never make fun of your abusive, stupid ex-spouse again. You promise to work in a soup kitchen for the homeless for the next three weekends (unless your boss wants you to work overtime). You feel like someone has kicked you in the head with steel-toed boots and your chest feels funny. Is that a bright light that you see? Don’t go toward the light!!! Oh, that was just the bathroom light blinding you as you wake up after being passed out on the bathroom floor for a few hours. Phew. You think you just might live to see another friend get married. Your last thoughts before you crawl into bed are, “How did I get home last night? I hope didn’t have unprotected sex with anyone.”
So there you have it: The Chosnyk Hangover Pain Index. Some sound advice to you all – drink responsibly (and always carry a condom). And stay away from stinging insects.
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Hmmmmmmmmmm, sounds like someone is writing with a lot of experience.
ReplyDeleteRemember...in wine there is truth.
Have a vintriffic day,
Gary