ru12

I mostly agree. I do quibble about the word ‘happiness’ as the motivation to stop drinking. Happiness is an emotion that is in constant flux, I wouldn’t want my sobriety focused on that. But I’m sure it works for some. For me I had to want to be sober more than I wanted to drink. Again I just object to calling it a happiness choice. Wanting pain to stop isn’t how I define happiness.

tyler

I had a dream last night that I went by the "pot store" with my 17 year old son. Fortunately for me we don not actually have pot stores in NC. Pot is my DOC and the dream was quite realistic. Haven't had a dream like this for some time. Perhaps all the talk of moderation? No matter, I have made the choice not to use and comfortable with it. Besides, it was just a dream!!

AlericB

I doubt anyone would. That's not happiness to me either.

The question is, would you be happier if the pain stopped, or even if it lessened?

StevenSlate

Well, any choice is reliant on our belief about which of our options is best. That is to say, we act on our own judgment at all times. Some things are relatively meaningless and so we put little effort into weighing out the options (I often use a choice between coke and pepsi as an example of a relatively meaningless choice). Then we put more thought into judging other options (choosing a career, quitting a substance habit, making an investment, etc). We've made some choices into habits/stable preferences where we no longer think about other options, and just repeatedly make the same choices. Even in this we're still acting on our own judgment, but it just so happens we did the judging a long time ago. And some times we begin to rethink our habits/preferences. Going without booze does become a sort of habit or new preference, that we continue without much thought. But just as we questioned the heavy drinking in the first place and made a change to thinking that going without it was the better option, we could certainly question it again.

All I can say is that getting some clarity on what substances really can and cannot do for you (what their potential benefits are), and getting clear about what the benefits of abstinence are - is how you judge whether a return to drinking is really your happier option. The clearer you get about this and the more convinced you become that abstinence is the better choice - the less of an issue some momentary thoughts of drinking become. The is why we focus in TFM on getting over romanticized views of the powers of substances. It's also why we focus on generating a positive view of the other options. There's a lot of content throughout the book on this. But if you have experience abstinent, then you can just start thinking about what it is about abstinence that makes it better than heavy drinking. Your experience makes you better equipped today than when you were in the thick of heavy drinking (or whatever substance use you were doing) - you have perspective and wisdom that can only be earned through experience. I'm sure you're already using it. If you feel yourself wavering, just use that wisdom more. If you still romanticize substances, and that's tipping the scales back to heavy drinking, then try reading The Freedom Model.

OR try reading The Cult of Pharmacology by Richard Degrandpre. It brings tons of the research together to question our romantic view of substances.

OR if you wanna get nerdy about it, read several things that address this theme:

- Becoming A Marijuana User by Howard S Becker (the pdf can be found for free online)

- History, Culture and Subjective Experience: An Exploration of the Social Bases of Drug-Induced Experiences also by Becker

- Drunken Comportment: A Social Explanation by Macandrew and Edgerton

- The Natural Mind: A New Way of Looking at Drugs and the Higher Consciousness by Andrew Weil

- Drug, Set, and Setting by Norman Zinberg

All these sources are critical of a purely pharmacological view of drug effects. Learning this viewpoint allows us to let go of substances as something special that we need to function. Weil's book is especially interesting, as he makes a great case that substances have a limited benefit, in a way that other commentators don't. For example, he says people might genuinely benefit from taking LSD a few times, and having it activate their brain in new ways, allowing them to see things in a new way - but a point comes when there's nothing new to gain from the drug. Sure, it'll still make you see weird colors and stuff if you keep taking it, but the experience of thinking differently while on it is something you can now do on your own (because of having had the experience during the previous trips). Then the noise/side effects of the drug might also be a hindrance. He's saying that we can transcend the need for a drug and alter our consciousness on our own. He says the same about marijuana (these two drugs are his main focus). He concludes that all intoxicants are basically active placebos. That's a lot to get into explaining, so I'll stop.

I like Weil's points about substances. I didn't want to read him because he's now a nutrition guru, and I'm skeptical of that kind of stuff. But when I learned he'd done serious groundbreaking drug research long ago, I had to read him and I'm glad I did. It put a lot into perspective for me.

There was a time in life where I used substances to tune out, to alter my consciousness. Now I educate myself to alter my consciousness. I use critical thinking to alter my consciousness. I use cognitive psychology to alter my consciousness, to change my emotions, including motivation which I consider an emotion of sorts (wanting/desiring/craving). I'm a different person now than when I relied on substances to alter my consciousness. They won't work the same on me today, and I know that, and so I don't go to them for that. I used to rely on substances to deal with anger sometimes. I now drink sometimes, and I know that alcohol never takes anger out of me. Because I understand that these principles apply across the other drugs, I know that the other drugs wouldn't "work" for me the same way they seemed to back in the day. They would provide sensations I may or may not find pleasurable. I find alcohol to be mildly pleasurable, but as nothing more than that - nothing that I "need" now. So not drinking as I did recently for two months while I was on a ton of Diclofenac for a nerve problem, is simple. There would've been a big potential risk of damaging my liver for me at that time, and since I didn't view drinking as essential, I simply didn't do it, and didn't feel deprived. Back in the day, big costs didn't sway me from using substances because I saw them as essential to my existence and thus worth the costs/risks.

Now I'm going to my own experience a little too much. So I'll just wrap up by saying - define the benefits of your options. Get clear about what they are. It's easier to maintain a change when you're sure about what your happier option is. The reason I suggest questioning the benefits of substances is because the immediate effects are what really find attractive in those moments when wavering. Thoughts like "I'm having such a bad day, and a drink would make me feel so much better" are easier to dispute when you really understand that alcohol doesn't take away stress. Then reminding yourself about the benefits in total (long and short term) of abstinence makes it easy and enjoyable to stick with your choice to quit. Of course, if you aren't clear about what those benefits are, then take another look at them. If you've been abstinent for any period of time and somewhat pleased with abstinence, I'm sure you've already done this, if not deliberately, then in discreet ways you might not be fully consciously aware of.

You are no doubt a different person now than when you relied on substances. They probably won't "work" the same for you today as they did back in whatever period of time of your life that you found them useful. That was then. This is now. They probably won't add to your experience now. When you quit, you essentially sold your crummy Dell 486 PC desktop computer, and got yourself a fully loaded Macbook Air. Nothing can attract you back to that antiquated machine except nostalgia.

AlericB

And, of course, nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

Sorry, couldn't resist the cheap joke! Great post.

soberlicious

I quit in my 20s, was not pressured to do so, it was a personal decision. I spent the next 10 years happily as a non-drinker. It's your statement here that my mind used to return to drinking actually:
In that 10 years, I had started my career, gotten married, had children. I decided one day that I certainly could have a few glasses of wine in the evening because I wasn't that person I was 10 years ago. Even though I full well knew that I had never been about moderating-I loved to be drunk and from age 15 to about 24 I was a serious drunk. Go big or go home. So, obviously, I knew that I loved being drunk and on some level was not going to have the occasional drink once I started again, but after 10 years and not being that same person anymore, part of me pushed to get back at it and the overwhelming thought was that I could do it no problem. I did not begin again because of any trauma or sadness or "need" to escape life. I just thought a good buzz with some cocktails would be awesome!

The second and final time I quit came 7 years later while I was locked in the psych ward. Suicide attempt, life was a mess, on the brink of loosing my career and worst of all, my children. Big huge ********. I quit for good during that lockup 11 years ago.

I decided then and there I could no longer rely on the better, happier option or realize the benefits of not drinking or read a ton of books or go to meetings forever or whatever...because my brain is an expert at twisting things. I decided that no matter what, drinking would never ever be an option for me again. When I decided that, I noticed a part of me quickly piped up with thoughts..."never?! what about when the kids are grown and you're all alone...that would be ok" "How about in a couple of years when you're better again?" "What if something really bad happens, like you lose your job? then will you cave?" My brain even presented the worst option of all "what if something happens to one of the kids?" Of which to all, I said the answer will always be No. I realized then that regardless of how I feel or what I believe at any given moment throughout my life, that when it comes to drinking, it must be No. After that, I began to read lots of things written by Buddhists practitioners about separation from desire and I was like BOOM...that's what I lacked the first time. My desires and actions were so closely linked in my mind that my actions were driven by my desires like on autopilot. Learning to separate and observe was a specific strategy that was critical for me.

I agree with much of TFM from what I've read here and I've enjoyed the discussion. Thanks for taking the time to respond, Steven.

StevenSlate

That's a lot like what I feel about cocaine (as I previously described). I never liked using it moderately, can't really imagine it, and so I'm probably "go big or go home" with it. To me, cocaine is like buffet food - it's all about gorging. And yet, I know I won't be happy with myself after a cocaine gorge (nor do I think I'd be very happy a short way into it). So, I have no attraction to cocaine and don't go there. I'm sorta the same man as I used to be in regard to cocaine - enough so, that I don't think any use of it would lead to a happy outcome for me.

AlericB

I read this interesting article in HuffPost where Meghan Ralston writes about the harmful effects of carrying the addict self-identity. I'm posting it here because it seems to be consistent with TFM.

I’m Breaking Up With the Word ‘Addict’ and I Hope You’ll Do the Same"

AlericB

To quote an extract from that article:

“My days of chaotic substance abuse are long behind me. I am not ‘an addict’ now, and I wasn’t ‘an addict’ then. I’m just a person, who had a period of difficulty, pain and challenge. I battled, I failed, I tried again—just like most people.”

She's saying that she's the same person now as she was when she was using substances chaotically. That, and the fact that the evidence is that most people overcome their addiction without treatment, suggests that you don't have to battle against yourself to recover and that addiction doesn't have to mark you for life.

MindfulMan

I'd like to reframe the idea and substitute the words "authenticity and presence" for "happiness." Happiness is a transient feeling, but I can be authentic and present through ANY emotional state, vs. numbing or avoiding with certain substances.

LSD was my DOC during my first two years of college. I have no regrets about using it or any other psychedelics. For me, addictive drugs like weed, cocaine and alcohol were used as intoxicants, a relatively reliable way to escape and feel good for a while (they were all fun...until they weren't). When asked why the Apple people came up with the graphical user interface while Microsoft stayed stuck in the screen prompt/DOS world, Jobs responded with "They hadn't taken enough acid," and pointed to his LSD experience as one of the most profound things he experienced in his life.

I'm with Weil that indolic psychedelics can induce positive changes, I do feel like my neurochemistry was permanently and subtly rewired by my psychedelic experiences in my late teens and early 20s. Among other things, I slowly tapered my weed use and then stopped when I graduated, as it really wasn't doing anything for me at all. More importantly, it instigated a base mental state that involved a constant suspension of disbelief of what I call "reality," and helped me to realize that "objective reality" is a fairly meaningless concept in everyday life, and is mostly an agree-upon fiction.

Then there is the bliss of dancing your azz off for hours to electronic dance music while under the influence of MMDA, often stacked with other substances like psilocybin and/or 2CB. I'm going to Coachella in a few weeks, and psychedelic intoxication was always a part of it. I thought a lot about whether or not I would allow myself to have an "E" day or not. These drugs aren't physically addictive and I never had any issue with doing them more than once or twice a year when at a music festival and/or rave. I could probably be OK with restricting my intoxicant use to psychedelics without a risk of compulsive drinking or cocaine use. However, I've decided against it for several reasons. The first is that MMDA intoxication would lower my inhibitions to the point where I might start drinking and doing blow at the party house. Second is the very real "comedown" effect from Ecstasy, and I have a pretty delicate mood balance right now, as I am again treating my bipolar disorder...this is obviously a big concern. But most importantly is that I am committed to living a life of authentic mindfulness and being present in every moment as much as possible. It will be interesting to see if I find the tribal rising in the Sahara tent as much fun without a hippie flip.

I may reevaluate using psychedelic drugs in certain circumstances, like festivals, raves, and if I ever attend Burning Man. Particularly the latter would be an exploration of various other realities. Alcohol/sedatives and cocaine, however, are simply off the table. Not only does their use interfere with the positive present and authentic state that I now find myself, but I'd rather not risk having their physically addictive qualities pull me back into compulsive and uncontrolled use. I could easily leave psychedelics behind after a few days in a specific circumstances, alcohol not so much.

BOOM. EXACTLY.

Buddhism, mindfulness, detachment and the "middle way" are huge signposts in my life without alcohol and drugs. There is nothing glamorous about living this way, it's more about taking pleasure from small things, the mundane and the everyday, as well as peak life events and experiences. A slow burn rather than a roller coaster.

I really needed to gain some detachment from drinking and drugs in order to get here, which is why the stint in inpatient rehab was so essential. Drinking was so ingrained in ordinary reality. The physically addictive nature of alcohol and other sedatives didn't allow me to step outside of that state of intoxication. Once I had been forcefully (and thankfully) removed and could experience reality without that numbing dullness I found that I preferred it.

AlericB

Interesting post. I practice mindfulness too and I find it expands my mind far more than drink or drugs ever did. To explain what I mean by 'expanding' my mind, I used to think that my thought, feelings, sensations, impulses and so on held my identity, that is, that I was my thoughts and feelings. And this also included the beliefs I held about myself - I thought they were absolutely true statements.

Through mindfulness, I began to experience mental events as just that, as phenomena that arise and fall in my mind. They are real, and they are mine. They are part of my identity, and a valuable part. They are as much mine as my memories are for example and I wouldn't want to be parted from them no matter how painful they are. But I don't experience them any more as me. I am always more than just that: more like the awareness of my thoughts and feelings than just the thoughts and feelings themselves, and with this awareness is the separation you describe.

Looking back, although I thought drink and drugs expanded my awareness they in many ways constricted it and I lost an appreciation of the subtlety of things, for example of the effect my behaviour was having on others. I much prefer my greater mental clarity and my life now.

TFM has helped me recognise and see the importance of this preference.

AlericB

A bit of a preamble this but I've just been watching a programme about the Great War which is coming up to the 100th year anniversay of its ending. It was about soldiers on Armistice Day when they were told that the war had ended. They were not celebrating in the way I thought they would but instead were somber, reflective and, very sadly, deeply traumatised by the experience they had just been through. In interviews some years afterwards the soldiers said that they experienced a sense of loss and confusion when the war ended because the life they had been living had suddenly ended and their former survival strategies were no longer appropriate.

Is this similar to someone who has just emerged from the battlefield of addiction? Do we need to go through an adjustment where we let go of our previous fight mentality and accept that the war has ended?

I find the Freedom Model evocatively named. Freedom from addiction is something that we have been trying to achieve but if we get it does it take a while for the reality of that to sink in and for us to let go of our "battle mode". Is it like walking into a dark room and turning the light on where we need time for our eyes to adjust to the brightness?

Algorithm

Steven,

Those who successfully use moderately do so without any transitional yearning. There is no desire, and no need try, either, as you put it. The more someone yearns to use moderately, the less likely they are to be successful at it. Anyone who is capable of moderate use will do so without the transitional yearning.

I have not read your newest book, but I am familiar with your ideas on the recovery religion and its priesthood from years ago, from some of your work with Monica Richardson. I had largely ignored this thread until I saw that you had registered and started to contribute.

I look forward to your input.

tyler

The way I look at moderation is that it is possible, because at the end of the day, substance use is a choice. We can choose to use, not use or use moderately. However, for me, and I'm sure many others, moderation is the really, really hard choice. I should note that it has never been a successful option for me. If I am abstinent and then choose to try to use moderately, I have always ended up going down the same rabbit hole.

I have chosen to take what, for me, is the easiest route, abstinence. Using heavily has a whole host of consequences, most of which I'm sure you are all familiar with. Moderation is a struggle. It isn't as much as I want. Am I using too much? How much is too much? It is constant battle, not much fun at the end of the day. While you do have to deal with cravings in abstinence, that is human. You deal with all kinds of cravings with all kinds of things every day, it is human. For me, when I realized that my craving for substances was really no different than my craving for many other things it became easier to address them. Therefore I have reached the conclusion that, for me, abstinence is the correct, best and easiest choice.

The point made in TFM about not being an addict also helped me. I had resigned myself to the fact that I was an addict, and being an addict I was in store for a life long struggle with substances, and there was a good possibility that I would use "even if I didn't want to" because I was an addict and that is what addicts do. I now see this as false thinking. I am just a human making choices. I choose not to use because the consequences are many and mostly unpleasant.

Anyway, I have found this method to be very helpful. I have to say none of what I have read is really revolutionary, most of it I have read in various places. However, for whatever reason, the way it is put together makes sense to me and has been very helpful.

AlericB

I agree that this is often how new ideas develop and I imagine that many of the ideas in TFM such as the damaging effects of assumming a negative self-image like the addict identity are also reflected in the wider society.

I'm still reading the book and just to quote this from it:

The Freedom Model is not a program, nor a process of recovery, nor a moderation advocate of any kind. It is not a treatment, counselling, or therapy. Instead, it is a way of thinking about the choices you can and will make in your own life.

One thing that specifically helped me was the way it applies the ancient idea of the "pursuit of happiness" to addiction.

From our beginnings of helping people almost 30 years ago, our approach has had a single defining theme in the pursuit of happiness. We have shown people that if they can develop the conviction that a change to their substance use habits will produce greater happiness, then they will happily, easily, and permanently change their habits for the better. They will get 'unstuck' and move on. That is the natural way of personal change.

Morning Glory

In order to keep this thread open, the topic of moderation has to be left out of the discussion.
I understand the concept is to identify true desires and the method doesn't promote moderation, but we are focused on abstinence only on SR.

AlericB

Steven,

I recommended to someone earlier today that they ask if you'd expand on the "drug, set, setting" model. You mentioned in an earlier post that this is a realisation that the pleasure we get from alcohol/drugs derives from the way we look at the substance - our mindset - as well as from it's pharmacology. Now I don't know if they will or not but I thought I asked myself anyway .

Is this something that could specifically help someone who drinks to dull emotional pain?

StevenSlate

It definitely helps, assuming we believe that substance use is a volitional behavior (this is the position of The Freedom Model). But if you believe substance use is a compelled behavior (that for example, your emotional pain causes - i.e. forces - you to drink) then this will be of no help. Information for purposes of decision-making cannot help people who don't believe they can make decisions about their substance use. Only a complete and constant removal of the perceived causes of their substance use (in this case, emotional pain) can theoretically help people who believe that to stop using.

So, if you believe that you can choose, you have to look at the reasons you keep making this choice. The reasoning "it helps me with my emotional pain" is a popular one, since we've all grown up seeing thousands of scenes in media where, for example, a guy loses his job or wife and goes to the bar to drown his sorrows in booze. We're led to believe drinking relieves this pain, at least temporarily while we have enough of the drug in us - and that this emotional relief is a special pharmacological effect of alcohol and other drugs.

Of course, as much as alcohol is known to numb, sedate, and calm people - it is also know to sensitize, stimulate, and anger people. It often has these opposite effects on the same person from one day to the next, or in one setting but not the other, or while they're with one social group versus another (check the way drunken young people behave around family versus around their friends). The same person can use alcohol to get wild and party, or to withdraw from social life and sink into the couch. So, this contradiction should draw some interest, some questioning as to what part the pharmacology of alcohol plays in these effects we attribute to it.

The bottom line is that pharmacology has very little to do with these effects. Throughout the 20th century, researchers who wanted to get to the bottom of drug effects developed a model that included more than pharmacology - the drug, set, and setting model of drug effects.

Drug = pharmacological effects of a drug on the body
Set = mindset/expectancies of the individual when they take the drug
Setting = physical, social, or cultural environment in which the drug is taken

These factors all come together to construct the effects that we tend to attribute only to the pharmacological action of the drug. We then end up thinking the drug is somewhat magical in it's ability to create these effects. The more magical we think the drug is, the more get to think it's the only thing that will work to serve our needs, the more we feel we need it for those purposes. But it may not even do the things we think it does for us - in fact, we're often giving the drug credit for things we're doing ourselves.

There's a lot of research that demonstrates that even the most basic actions of drugs - to stimulate or depress cognition - can be reversed with expactancies. For example, people can be made to function better on cognitive tests by being given decaffeinated coffee presented as regular coffee. They can be made to do worse on those same tests by being given placebo alcohol. In laboratory settings, insomniacs can be put to sleep with stimulants that they're told are strong sleeping pills. The research findings that prove this principle go on and on - and these are basic proven pharmacological effects being literally reversed or manifested out of nowhere.

But when you get to things like lowered inhibitions - there is no proof or even good theory on how this behavioral effect could come about pharmacologically. All the available evidence shows that it doesn't. People in various societies around the world show various levels of lowered inhibition in some areas such as sexual behavior or aggression; some show it only in sexual behavior, some show it only in aggression; some don't show it at all; and some show heightened inhibitions. And it's all really ruled by the degree of latitude allowed for a change in behavior while drinking in their particular culture. If it was pharmacological, alcohol would have the same basic effect no matter where you are, no matter what your culture holds as permissible while drunk. A famous experiment done in european countries where young people get wild when drinking, gives them non-alcoholic beer and watches them make fools of themselves. It's not the alcohol - it's the knowledge that you are held to a different standard of behavior while intoxicated, that results in lowered inhibitions while drinking.

Relief of negative emotions relies on the same principles. You feel that relief because of what alcohol represents to you, what you expect from it when you drink, not because of it's pharmacological effect. You also feel that relief because you're giving yourself permission to put your problems aside while drinking, and not focusing on them. You could just as well focus on things that make you upset while drinking. Sometimes people do. Good and bad trips serve as a great example of this. People have a bad trip on LSD when they think of bad things. When I was kid and this happened with friends, we'd try to grab their attention with a stupid toy like a glowstick or kooshball, to get their mind focused on something else - then the bad trip disappears.

There can be a deeper reason why substance use seems to help with emotional pain. When you get drunk and high, you can also be signaling to your friends and family to lay off and not give you any crap - "sorry mom, I can't do your stupid errands because I'm drunk" - you don't even have to say it, it's known. You incapacitate yourself so that you don't have to deal with things. You give yourself a break from responsibilities, by making yourself too intoxicated to do so. But none of this is a drug pharmacologically removing emotional pain. You could also break your own legs to shirk responsibility - it would achieve the same thing the same way. You could also just tell everyone to buzz off, or give yourself a break - not answer the phone, texts, or emails for the night. You don't "need" alcohol to achieve these things. Alcohol doesn't achieve these things. Its reputation does.

I'm going to long, and realize I haven't explained the model in full. But I can't even do that here. We took four chapters of our book to do that. I hope this is a good enough taste to let people know that maybe alcohol and other drugs aren't all they're cracked up to be. When you understand what these substances really can and can't do, then that can help you in your future decision-making. It can decrease or even eliminate the desire to use them.

AlericB

Thanks Steven.

Thanks Steven. I can relate to that. I used to think that drinking was a sure-fire way to get happy and to get a 'holiday' from myself with a change of conciousness. But when the happiness didn't always come and a drunken haze had become my new norm and so was no longer a novelty I unsurprisingly began to question just why I was drinking. I didn't have a sudden realisation but more of a gradual awareness that I wasn't enjoying drinking in the way I used to and that it was actually stopping me doing many of the things I used to enjoy such as sport and even reading and watching films. And when I realised that I was losing the things I enjoyed most of all: my relationship and friendships and that this meant more to me than drinking I decided to quit.

I found it a struggle at first and it was only by thinking through the reasons for my decision and my preference to quit that I became convinced of my decision to quit since when it's been effortless. Again, this was not a sudden realisation but something that happened over a period of time.

From the people I know who drank heavily at a period in their life, I can believe that many or most people don't go through such a deliberative process as this but just naturally change. Saying they 'grew out' of it may sound dismissive of people who are struggling but I struggled too and in retrospect I do feel that I grew out of it - it's just that I needed certain ideas and insights to be able to do so.

StevenSlate

I just remembered I thought of a much quicker way to sum up the whole drug, set, setting model:

Drinking might make you cheat on your wife, but alcohol does not.

The key here is to understand drinking is an activity with a whole bunch of personal and cultural meaning attached to it - whereas alcohol is a CNS depressant that can slow your reaction times, disorient you, alter respiration, blood pressure, and heart rate, et cetera.

Our culture says drinking makes people do things sexually that they wouldn't do sober; that it makes them say things they wouldn't say sober, etc.

So you have drinking, and you have alcohol - and to say that drinking makes you more likely to do something is not the same as saying alcohol does.

An example of a "setting" effect that I love is Bourbon Street in New Orleans. Alcohol seems to make people expose their private parts there, whereas alcohol doesn't seem to make people do that in the upscale bar near their office when they're with potential business clients. Of course, alcohol doesn't do either - "drinking", with it's different meanings in these different places does. This is all of course mixed with the mindset of the individual, the intentions they have, etc. Not everyone will behave the same way in these different settings, but you can see how the settings change things.

You can also see setting effects where no substances are involved. On Main Street in Disneyworld, an uptight Dad might put on a Mickey Mouse cap and act like a goofball with his kids. It's not the churros, ice cream bars, and oversized turkey legs that make him do this - it's that he's in a setting where this behavior is welcomed rather than seen as strange.