Just my luck. I manage to lose my 583rd raffle ticket and still win the prize of a lovely £8.75 bottle of rioja in the jazz club raffle, when I’m supposed to be ‘enjoying’ Sober October.
When my wife pulled the third raffle ticket out of the hat after no one claimed the first two tickets, it turned out to match the remaining 584 tickets.
Shouts of ‘FIX!’ went up when the club crowd thought that my wife, who was sitting next to me, had knowingly pulled the corresponding ticket out of the hat.
I know how you feel because trying to avoid demonic drinking in this country, as I approach 60 and my line of business, journalism, sometimes seems like a solution.
Don’t worry, though, my intentions in taking on the October challenge to quit drinking alcohol are not pure.
I won’t brag about my clear head or my dramatic weight loss because I have taken on this task simply as a financial exercise.
One in four members of Generation Z is teetotal, twice as many as Generation X
How much could I save ahead of the Budget, what impact would it have on my internal budget and could the money saved drive pension momentum?
My family will tell you that I’m too bad to be categorized as a spender and I’m too disorganized to be categorized as a saver, but surely it’s not too late for this old dog to learn a new trick.
I must start with a confession: I haven’t managed a completely dry month since the last Labor government, which was brought down in 2010, when the average price of a pint was £2.48. It is now £4.98.
Surprisingly, to me at least, that £4.98 barely covers the average UK adult’s total spending of £5.94 per week/£23.76 per month on alcohol, with a consumption of £3, 60 at home and £2.34 by 2023, according to the government. figures.
This represents a 29 per cent decrease in alcohol consumption on average total spending of £8.44 in the 2020 pandemic year.
These are the kind of numbers that really make me very thirsty.
Surely, by national standards, my end-of-month savings of £23.76 would be so meager that I would struggle to even buy a decent single malt.
When I told my wife that I was embarking on this challenge, she shivered with joy.
In Sober October, participants give up alcohol for the month to improve their health.
To make matters worse, I can no longer hide my consumption behind hers. He actually only drinks when we head to sunny climes. This makes life for me, who is very much a home drinker, much more difficult.
I also have two boomerang kids at home, both returned from university and can’t afford London’s stratospheric rental market.
As much as I love them, stress comes with the territory, and I can’t even pretend to have the moral high ground with them when it comes to a drink.
Since they are both Generation Z, born between 1995 and 2012, they exemplify their age group in that they both drink moderately, if at all, when gracing the dining room table.
Neither of my kids like wine, which is my downfall, and they only really drink on the rare night out.
I, on the other hand, belong to Generation X, born between 1965 and 1980, who have a somewhat more checkered history when it comes to alcohol.
Of my Generation NHS.
One in four members of Generation Z are completely teetotal, which is twice as many as my generation, according to a survey this year by the charity Drinkaware.
Its annual survey also shows a decline in binge drinking, which is defined as drinking more than eight units in one sitting – about three pints of beer or a bottle of wine – to its lowest level since it began collecting data in 2018.
This figure was 31 percent of seniors in 2018, but is now 22 percent.
But this shouldn’t surprise us, because the UK reached ‘peak alcohol consumption’ in 2004, when consumption reached 9.5 liters of pure alcohol, or the equivalent of 100 bottles of wine, per person per year.
That was three times the consumption in the 1950s.
My own drinking has gotten to the point where I drink probably four to five times most weeks. Half a bottle here, or half a bottle there, in one night. The damage? Between £3.75 and £5.50 per night.
Alternatively, you could have a couple of beers for £4.10.
If you’re tempted to opt for low- or no-alcohol alternatives to save money, you’d better think again.
A 70cl bottle of Gordons Gin will set you back £17 at Tesco, but the non-alcoholic equivalent, Seedlip, costs £22.
The beer is a little better: 8 x 500ml of Adnams Ghost Ship 0.5 per cent will set you back £11.49 and their alcoholic Double Ghost is £16.99 for 8 x 500ml.
Adam Luck admits he hasn’t had a completely dry month since the last Labor government, which ended in 2010.
But the pandemic put me off low-alcohol beer for life. My family teased me about the stacks of empty cans of Brew Nanny State, my vegan non-alcoholic beer, that filled the house as I contemplated the end of the world.
My approach was to order a half liter of lime and lemonade or soft drink to quench my thirst at £1.50 each. And it would stay at one, since not many people come to have two pints of lime and lemonade (or similar).
But I can’t pretend that my month of sobriety was easy and that there were many temptations.
One night I went to meet an old acquaintance in one of the most elegant restaurants in London. I tried to cancel because I couldn’t drink. My contact assured me that we didn’t have to drink, but proceeded to ask me if it was okay for me to order a glass. I could hardly refuse, through clenched teeth.
But I saved at least £25 on a carafe of casa blanca.
Our week’s holiday in Crete, however, was considerably more difficult to endure.
I’m not a big traveler so I would have shelled out £5.50 for a Black Sheep Ale on the Jet2 flight to calm my nerves.
The next day we went to a smart tavern for octopus and I at least saved £12.50 for two white wines.
The next day we huddled in a more traditional neighborhood tavern for a long Sunday seafood lunch. I would have liked two beers and a glass of white wine, so around £9.
On Monday we discovered a bar with stunning views of the Venetian port. Two large beers would cost you almost £11. I settled for a fresh orange juice for around £3.
On Tuesday and Wednesday I was in charge of a rental car and we came back late, so maybe just a couple of glasses of white wine. That would mean a saving of around £7.
On Thursday and Friday I returned to that bar in the port. So I reckon they saved £22, give or take. Then that return flight would require a calming beer for £5.50.
Even allowing for the occasional soft drink, I still think I saved around £50. My wife occasionally drank a glass of semi-sweet Greek wines, but the damage was minor.
But at the end of the month I really hit the jackpot when I went to a former colleague’s wake in a pub. When I ordered a half liter of soda with a slice of lime, frankly, there was astonishment.
My fellow mourners were only appeased when I told them it was for an article. Conservatively, I think I saved by paying for two small rounds, worth £40.
By the end of the month, I had lost 2kg, but my sleeping habits were still chaotic and, I strongly suspect, my blood pressure was no lower.
After adding up my careful calculation, I’ve saved around £180, courtesy of Sober October. Imagine if you multiplied those savings over decades. Well, maybe I could even retire.
Sarah Coles, of investment platform Hargreaves Lansdown, says: “Adam’s results demonstrate just how powerful it can be to eliminate a costly habit from your life, especially one you’re not benefiting from.”
Money expert Sarah Coles says giving up alcohol can give you more time to plan your finances
“It can work for everything from nights out with people you think you should see, to takeaways that never bring you the joy you expected, to subscriptions you don’t get much value out of.”
“Giving up alcohol also has the benefit of giving you more time to be more clear-headed, and while you may not want to spend every second planning your future, freeing up a little more time for your finances could also pay dividends.”
If you channeled that £2,160, saving one year into a one-year fixed Isa paying 4.6 per cent, at the end of the year you would have £2,261, a decent increase of £101.
If you kept it in an easy-access savings account paying 5 per cent, you would have £2,271. But rates are variable on an easy-access savings account.
But the biggest boost could come from redirecting the money into a pension.
Someone who is 37 and earns £30,000 a year could add £109,000 to their pension fund when they retire at 67, Ms Coles tells me. This assumes 5 percent growth and additional tax relief.
A higher or additional rate taxpayer could also claim the additional tax relief on their self-assessment tax return, but this would not automatically go towards a pension.
Even though I’m not 37, I can still save a ton by redirecting that £180 a month into my pension.
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