It has been 10 days since my last beer.

Now, that might not seem like a big deal. It is. I’ll explain why, and also why 2023 will be my year without beer. It's easy to say that now, surrounded by winter's cold and gray. A sunny, 90-degree summer day when I'm doing yardwork will be the bellwether.

You see, I love beer. I have been drinking it since high school. I have consumed a lot of it. More than most, I would guess.

While I’m a light beer drinker, I’m also a cheap beer drinker, enjoying the likes of Hamm's, Olympia, Rainier and Busch.

When we lived on Kauai, my morning ritual was to read the Bible, run and have a Keystone Light on ice before work.

I come by it naturally.

My parents introduced me to drinking when I was 17. I donned a cap and carried a briefcase to look older, so I could join them in a small, dark lounge. It worked, and beer has since been a constant companion.

My father drank a lot. He was what some would call a functioning alcoholic, able to work and carry on while consuming booze.

My mother, in the days when we were kids, was often photographed with a beer in hand. With seven kids, I’m sure she needed it.

I followed in their footsteps.

I don’t think I’ve ever mowed my lawn, worked in the garage or shot baskets out back without a beer nearby.

I can’t recall ever returning from a trail run at Glacier National Park and not sitting down, admiring the mountains and having a beer.

I've never considered it a problem. It’s not hard booze, like whiskey or vodka or tequila. It’s just beer. Light beer, at that.

I’ve given up beer, now and then, for a few weeks, even a few months, just to prove I could. Point made, I would buy another 30-pack of Keystone Light for $17.99. "Can’t afford to not drink it at that price, 60 cents a can," has been my motto.

To put it simply, my longtime opinion, backed up by my lifestyle, has been that beer is basically good. But, four decades later, I’m wondering if I'm wrong.

The more I read about alcohol, even beer, the more I wonder just how much it's been messing with my head. How I think. What I say. What I do. How I see things. How I go through life. That I use beer to avoid dealing with certain situations or avoid making decisions.

I’m not going to delve into reports and studies and surveys about drinking. But I do see a need for change, so I'll make one. A big one.

I am going to give up beer this year and see what happens.

I argued with myself that perhaps I could have a safe beer zone of sorts, where it would be OK to drink it. Like Glacier National Park. Or Ireland. Who can visit Ireland without drinking a pint? Is that even possible?

With a little disappointment, I suppose that it is.

Perhaps life without beer will be better than I believe. I have some doubt, but I hope so.

Because, bottom line, I don’t know what a year without beer is like.

I'll let you know.