Let me recount for you a little Christmas story. A few years ago, an English guy I worked with sent his kids to England so they could spend Christmas with his family. His wife was a nurse, so she wound up working for most of Christmas day.
So this guy is telling me all about how much he's looking forward to having a relaxing Christmas by himself. He tells me about his plan to start the day with a little bonfire and a great big breakfast, and he's going on and on about this breakfast. Finally, I said "Well geez, that sounds really good... can I come over for breakfast?"
So he stops and goes "Well sure, I guess."
So I did, and brought over a bottle of wine. And that's how I ended up getting bombed before 10AM after eating a gigantic breakfast one Christmas morning in my early twenties.
Later that day while driving home after supper, I heard George Thorogood's "I drink alone", and it reminded me of my friend. And so every time I hear it since then, I can't help remembering one particularly memorable Christmas morning.