One reason I like sports ...

Nuff said.

Setting Boundaries

I have rarely in the past just dumped someone out of my life. More likely, I chose to hold a resentment instead. Some of those grudges lasted for years. In recovery, I realize now that my resentments were mine and mine only. The "party-at-fault" probably never knew anything about it.

Also in recovery, I will not dump another alcoholic in need out of my life. I AM RESPONSIBLE to always be there. Well now, wait a minute.

Twice in the last two days, I have been on the receiving end of verbal abuse by guys who claim to be in recovery. My part in those cases was the fact that I happened to be in the vicinity at the time and I have previously done favors for those guys. Minimal favors, mind you, but favors nonetheless. Such as listening to them vent and offering my experience, giving cigarettes and giving them rides to and fro when asked. Since Step 10 does not appear to be a part of their program, I feel the need to define, for myself, a boundary as to what is acceptable behavior. In both cases, their behavior towards me is behavior I am not willing to accept. To date, I have not responded to them. I've just sat back and stayed quiet. (PAUSE WHEN AGITATED)

How much am I supposed to take from these guys? It is obviously affecting my serenity since I am writing about it. I refuse to allow anyone to do that to me. Part of the problem is that I see these guys on a daily basis. I will speak to my sponsor about it today. In the meantime, any suggestions from you guys?

Service

Since my first days in AA, I have heard about service work. It's one of the 3 arms of the AA logo. Recovering alcoholics told me it would be a necessity for me. I needed to help others in order for me to remain sober. "Carry the message," they said. They told me I might be able to stop drinking, but I would never realize the full benefits of sobriety unless I helped others.

My experience has thus far shown this to be the truth. I am fortunate enough to be a member of a large recovery center in a large city. We have about 150 paying members with another 500-600 people in recovery coming through the doors each week. The center currently is landlord to 45 AA, Al-Anon and CMA groups each week. There are monthly fundraisers and other activities to keep us all busy.

If we want to.

Many choose not to, unfortunately.

As a retired person, I have the time to be active at Lambda Center. Besides being on the Board of Directors, I am a member of the Fundraising Committee. I create a quarterly newsletter and print flyers and announcements. I go to many meetings each week and share my experience, strength and hope when asked (and sometimes not when asked). I have one sponsee now and have had a few others in the past. I have participated in meetings at homes of people who could not come to the center due to health problems. I welcome recovering friends into my home for coffee and chat.

I do these things to keep my mind and my time occupied. Otherwise, I know that I can and probably will be back in the bars. So, when looked at in that way, I do these things selfishly. But as a result of the things I do, hopefully someone else can benefit in some small way.

It saddens me when I see people relapse. A large percentage of those who relapse, or slip, do very little or no service work. They provide me with a window into how this program does not work. For that I am grateful.

For as long as I am willing and able, I will continue to do the things I'm doing. It works for me. It's worked for many thousands before me.

And it helps to keep my insane mind from taking control of me.

Drag This ...

Went to a Drag Show last night which featured some of my friends. Very talented group of guys ... errr....... performers.

The Size of Condoms

Maybe this will answer all your questions about size.

A Simple View of Religion

Let's see if I can remember a few of their names. There was Jimmy Swaggart, Pat Robertson and Oral Roberts. The Osteen's; father and son. And of course, Jim and Tammy Faye Baker. Can't forget them. I know there's more, but you get my drift.

These are just a few high-profile CHRISTIAN leaders. Thousands more lead their congregations each Sunday. Protestant, Muslim, Catholic, Hindu, whatever. It's what they do the other six days of the week that kind of bothers me. Well, it doesn't really bother me, it just makes me wary. No, it doesn't make me wary, it flat out turns me off. To their view, their definition of religion.

It's the hypocrisy that I'm thinking about. I'm glad they have a God which is important to them. But their God allows them to cheat on the spouses and lie about it. Their God allows them to gamble away fortunes instead of investing money in their families and communities. Their God allows them to openly hate gay people, yet have a little same-sex fun on the side as long as no one finds out. Their God allows them to preach their own political views and hate those who don't agree with them. Their God allows them to take illegal drugs while they publicly profess their cleanliness. Their God allows them to murder people who don't agree with their views.

These are just a few of my problems with "organized" religion.

Organized. LOL So is the Mafia.

I'm obviously not a religious person, but I DO have a God of MY understanding. I found my God in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. My God is embedded in the Steps and Principles of A.A. and is a loving God. Of all people. All that my God asks is that I try to do the next right thing. To myself and to others. For myself and others.

I don't believe the next right thing includes spousal cheating, dishonesty, selfish gambling that takes from my family, hatred of others because of their politics, color or sexual orientation, using illegal drugs or hurting other people. Especially not murdering them.

No, I am content with my God (as I understand Him). You, however, are welcome to believe what you wish and go to the church of your choice. My God tells me that I must allow you those freedoms.

Senior Prom

I know many of you have kids who will soon be experiencing that, oh so special, Senior Prom. I barely remember mine 'cause I was pretty drunk and I had to go with a girl. ewwwwww....

That's another story.

Here are some of this season's "in" fashions. I don't know the costs, but I'm sure your small town dress and tux rental shoppe can tell you.







What a special night it's gonna be!!

Crime and (very little) Punishment

I have told y'all about the vagrancy, vandalism, drug and prostitution problems currently going on in my neighborhood. If you didn't see it, see post of May 14 "I Vote for Tough Love."

Anyway, this is a sign one neighbor made for his yard. It's already become popular, getting TV news coverage and the attention of City Hall.


the small print at the bottom of the sign says,
PLEASE WAIT HERE FOR THE NEXT AVAILABLE
CUSTOMER SERVICE REPRESENTATIVE

(following is part of an article from KTRK-TV / Houston)

It is getting some people mad on the street.

"The solution to the whole problem is, complain all you want and move out," said one woman who didn't want to be identified.

Dirkmaat (the sign maker) and his neighbors aren't moving. The district council member says they shouldn't have to.

"I'm excited when people just say, 'You know what? I'm not taking it any more, and somebody's going to do something about it.' And our office stands willing to be a part of that process," promised Ada Edwards, Houston City Council member. Part of that process, she says, is to organize a meeting between the police chief and the residents. The sign will be spreading. More residents are ordering them for their yards and some homeowners are even planning to make up t-shirts.

(HP) I will keep you posted as developments occur. Or as occurrences develop.

Massage anyone?

I have a good friend who is trying to get her business off the ground. She is a Registered Massage Therapist. If you're in the Houston area, check out her site CLICK HERE and consider giving it a try.

Feeling Good about Yourself?

Take this test. Don't let the results get you down.


Teaspoon, Teacup. or Bucket?

During a visit to the mental asylum, a visitor asked the Director,
"What is the criteria that defines a patient to be institutionalized?"

"Well," said the Director, "we fill up a bathtub, we offer a teaspoon, a teacup, and a bucket to the patient and ask the patient to empty the bathtub."

Okay, here's your test: (Those with an abnormal tendency will scroll to the bottom to get the answer before even taking this test!)

1. Would you use the spoon? or

2. Would you use the teacup? or

3. Would you use the bucket?

"Oh, I understand," said the visitor. "A normal person would choose the bucket as it is larger than the spoon or the cup."

"Noooooo," answered the Director. "A normal person would pull the plug."


(You are not required to tell anyone how you did on this test. Please don't share your answer).

dAAveArt

I did this piece yesterday. The thing I like about my art is that there's no wrong way to hang it. Since I took these photos, I turned one of the pictures upside down; it looks better.



My amateur stuff will never be confused with the art of my friend Scott W.
To see his really fine works, CLICK HERE.

The Truth Be Known

from The Associated Press (Today in History)

Ten years ago: Triumphant Republicans pushed a historic budget through

the House that they said would wring an unprecedented $1.4 trillion dollars in

savings from federal budgets over the next seven years.

I thought you guys told me that Bill Clinton did that.

Bart and Baseball

My Houston Astros have not had a very good season so far. However, last night they DID get their second straight shutout, so that's a good thing.

Instead of posting some of the AstroHunks pix, here's a different view ...


Bart & Baseball

The Art of Gratitude

My bestest friend in recovery is Scott W. Almost every day, he posts a gratitude list on his blog, Attitude of Gratitude. Certainly worth checking out every day for a good reminder of some things we may not normally think to appreciate.

Scott is also a fine artist. He opened a new cyber gallery yesterday and would love for you to give it a whirl. Click here to enter Scott's gallery of handiwork.

Home Away From Home

I've been to Hell in Norway, but never here ...

Tourists are causing a lot of anxiety — and are costing money — to a tiny village where signs keep disappearing. What do the signs read? "Welcome to Fucking, Austria." Pronounced "fooking," the little hamlet of Fucking is named after the man who founded the village in the 6th century. His name? Focko. The town sign has been stolen seven times in the last few months. With signs costing several hundred dollars apiece, much of the tiny town’s budget is being spent replacing the signs, says Siegfried Hoeppel, the Mayor of Fucking. He went on to express his hope that further thefts will be avoided through the use of increased concrete and . . . bigger screws.

Austria is indeed home to a town called 'Fucking' (48' 03"N 13' 51"E).

The Family

Meet my family. They are great watch cats, obviously.


Mono - Devil - Hayley (their momma)

The young ones were born on the night of my last drunk - September 1, 2003.
But as a true alcoholic, I didn't stop drinking until 4 days later.

Recovery / No Recovery

What could it hurt? So I said, "Sure I'll go."

My friend Molly had not had a drink in almost 6 years. We hung out at bars together but she only drank cokes. She did the other coke too, but she didn't drink.

I had agreed to go to an AA meeting instead of entering some type of treatment program. Hayden (my other half) had threatened to have my lovely mother put me away - just because of my drinking! Our compromise was an AA meeting. "Sure, I'll go."

Molly had never been to a meeting in my part of town, so I got online to find one. We went to a place called Montrose Counseling Center for a 6pm meeting. A couple of guys were there waiting for the doors to open and we told them why we were there. That I was brand-new. They told us that there was a better place to go. MCC was for more specialized treatment, they said. They said Lambda Center was the place I should go and it was for gay people.

We arrived in time for a 6:30 meeting. That was 2 years ago - this week.

I could never have imagined that day in May 2003 how my life was going to change. I was only going so Hayden would get off my back. There would still be plenty of time to get fucked up that night after a silly meeting.

I haven't stopped going yet. It's become my second home. It's become my life.

And Molly? She went to a handful of meetings with me those next few months. Molly never stopped doing the nose powder no matter how messed up it made her nose and sinuses. She relapsed with alcohol a year ago and will not return any of my calls or emails. I have no idea where she is or how she might be doing. But I have a pretty good idea.

Him or It

Art Cars

Yesterday saw some fantastic weather in Houston
AND
the annual Art Car Parade.

Onward

I'll receive my 5,000th hit today on this blog.
It took 6 months, 1 week.
Thanks.
Keep coming back.

(If you have the time, I'd appreciate a rating. Look at the right-hand sidebar, under Blog Hot or Not).

Recovering Celebs

available from HAZELDEN

The heady, drug-induced decades of the sixties and seventies provide the backdrop for this all-star account of addiction and recovery. Among the celebrities interviewed by Gary Stromberg for The Harder They Fall are comedian Richard Lewis; musicians Alice Cooper, Grace Slick, Dr. John, and Chuck Negron (Three Dog Night); actors Malcolm McDowell and Mariette Hartley; Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Franz Wright; writer Anne Lamott; and athletes Doc Ellis and Gerry Cooney. The good news? All are recovering and leading lives of extraordinary accomplishment.

"My own disease would like to tell you that my 'isms' are now my 'wasims.' But as this book reads, it's an ongoing process that leads to the sweetest spirituality. My hat's off and great kudos to those who share their story like it is for those of us who still need to hear it." Steven Tyler - Aerosmith

I Vote for Tough Love

You may have read my blog from 3 days ago regarding the Scam in Montrose. Actually I got sidetracked. The much bigger problem is with the homeless kids who roam the neighborhood in gangs. This is a neighborhood with million dollar homes in an old part of Houston. I live in the middle of it all (in a modest block of townhomes).

It's been "out of control" for about 6 months now. That neatly coincides with additional welfare-type services being provided by 2 charity organizations. They feed these kids and provide free medical services. One of the organizations provides short-term housing for up to 100 homeless kids. No job training nor job-related services are provided.

I attended a community meeting Thursday evening. Attendees included a police department spokesman, 2 area Civic Association leaders and some of the concerned residents, such as myself. The meeting was held at Interfaith Ministries and chaired by their President. Representatives of other service organizations were there. I refer to these people and their respective oranizations as enablers. The police officer was quite sympathetic to our concerns, but the police feel their hands are tied. Huh?

The message I got from the enablers was this: we must bring God into the lives of these unfortunate children and most of the problems will stop. (insert your own comment here)

These kids are taking advantage of the system. The more food that is provided, the more kids who will show up. In turn, there are more kids who live on the street, waiting for the next hand-out. In addition, a "no loitering" or "civility law" was recently passed for the "Midtown" area, about 1 mile from here. Midtown is going through a metamorphosis of renovation. That caused the homeless to come here. So, we are told, until these poor kids (I do have compassion for them) receive God into their lives, we, as residents, need to accept the prostitution, rampant drug activity, vandalism, begging for money and cigarettes, loud and unruly behaviour, verbal harassment on the sidewalks, dirty needles and other trash littering the yards and so on and so on and so on. (my first time to use 11 commas in a sentence)

I hope the message they got from the people who actually live around here and have to put up with the criminal activity 24/7 is that we expect current laws to be enforced. What the hell ever happened to people accepting responsibility for their individual actions?

There will be more meetings. The Houston City Council shall hear from us.
We have a looooonnng way to go.

Got Caption?

Got a good caption for this pic? Let us have it.



click on COMMENTS for your entry.

Name Change

Kinky in Texas

Texas has a long history of rogue governors. The 2006 election may return us there. Kinky Friedman, musician, songwriter, novelist and activist is tossing his hat in the ring.

"How hard could it be?"

The Official Kinky site

QUOTES from Kinky

INTERVIEW with the novelist

An Act of God?

The United States government was brought to a halt yesterday. President Bush didn't notice. see story here

Another 12-Step Program

A Few Memories ...

I scanned a few old pictures onto my hard drive. Thought I might as well share them.


"Two Brewers" my pub in Guildford, England ~ 1991


young girl in Dakar, Senegal


"Popeye Village" Malta (this is the movie set of the film, POPEYE)


"Checkpoint Charlie" Berlin 1990 (just months after the wall came tumblin' down)

Scam in Montrose

Montrose is one of Houston's oldest neighborhoods. It has a lot of "atmosphere" and is the center of the gay community. Museums, parks and resale shops abound. Some might call it eclectic. It also has a growing population of drug-crazed and homeless teenagers and 20-somethings. Covenant House and Interfaith Ministries cater to, and bring in, these homeless kids to feed them and provide free medical services. So the kids "hang-out" and roam the surrounding streets in gangs all day and night. I live smack-dab in the middle of all this.

My name is Friday. I'm a citizen. We're seeing a new scam and I'm gonna tell.

Starbuck's is around the corner from my townhouse. It's located in a small strip-center with 5 other businesses and they all share a common car park. The management company that operates this car park contracts to Z Wrecker Company to tow unauthorized vehicles, 24/7. The individual drivers of the towing company have discretion to decide if a car is legally parked or not. That is where the insanity begins.

Myself and fellow townhouse owners park in an off-street covered parking area, secured by a remote-controlled security gate. We keep our little remote "clickers" on key rings or in our respective cars. Last Wednesday night, in the middle of the night, my next-door neighbor's car was stolen - from the secure parking area! It was duly reported to the police on Thursday but there's little they can do. blah blah blah Friday morning, my neighbor received a call from the City of Houston Impound Yard. They had her car and told her it would cost $230 to retrieve it. It had been towed there from Starbuck's. Towed there by Z Wrecker Company.

Here's the scam (not too difficult to figure out). The wrecker drivers are stealing cars and/or paying homeless kids a $20 spot (can you buy crack for $20 a hit?) to do the deed for them. The drivers possess "universal remotes" that can open any remote gate. The stolen cars are then driven to Starbuck's parking area and towed from there. Unfrickenbelievable. Now it's a "legal" tow.

The driver gets $160 for the tow; the impound yard gets $35/day for storage. From that $160 I suspect the driver pays a few dollars to the kid to steal the car and maybe the Starbuck's manager as well. Everybody makes money. Except, of course, for the honest citizen who pays for it.

Simple plan. No witnesses. Impossible to prove. The police look the other way. They can't be bothered.

So now we concerned citizens are shelling out $2000 for a video security system. Maybe that will help. Maybe not.

It's very sad to watch as this wonderful old neighborhood is becoming a ghetto. But we are gathering steam with television coverage, meetings with the offending businesses and will be attending city council sessions to complain. They will probably want to discuss it for a year or two so as not to offend the homeless kids or the not-for-profit businesses that enable them.

In the meantime, our property values spiral downwards. Who, in their right mind, would buy a property here if they knew what was going on?

dAAveArt

my latest took me a whole hour to produce LOL

Some Never Learn

A man is waiting for his wife to give birth. The doctor comes in and informs the dad that his son was born without torso, arms or legs. The son is just a head! But the dad loves his son and raises him as well as he can, with love and compassion.
After 21 years, the son is now old enough for his first drink. Dad takes him to the bar, tearfully tells the son he is proud of him and orders up the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously and the bartender shaking his head in disbelief, the boy takes his first sip of alcohol.

Swoooop!
Magically, a torso pops out!

The bar is dead silent; then bursts into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant"Take another drink!" The bartender still shakes his head in dismay.

Swoooop!
Two arms pop out.

The bar goes wild. The father, crying and wailing, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant "Take another drink!" The bartender ignores the whole affair. By now the boy is getting tipsy, and with his new hands he reaches down, grabs his drink and guzzles the last of it.

Swoooop!
Two legs pop out.

The bar is in chaos. The father falls to his knees and tearfully thanks God. The boy stands up on his new legs and stumbles to the left....then to the right.... right through the front door, into the street, where a truck runs over him and kills him instantly. The bar falls silent. The father moans in grief. The bartender sighs and says..."He should have quit while he was a head!"

To All You Mothers ...

watch your step ...

Only in America

1. Only in America......can a pizza get to your house faster than an ambulance.
2. Only in America......are there handicap parking places in front of a skating rink.
3. Only in America......do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.
4. Only in America......do people order double cheese burgers, large fries, and a diet coke.
5. Only in America......do banks leave both doors open and then chain the pens to the counters.
6. Only in America......do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.
7. Only in America......do we use answering machines to screen calls and then have call waiting so we won’t miss a call from someone we didn’t want to talk to in the first place.
8. Only in America......do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.
9. Only in America.....do we use the word ‘politics’ to describe the process so well: ‘Poli’ in Latin meaning ‘many’ and ‘tics’ meaning ‘bloodsucking creatures’.
10. Only in America......do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering.

You got another one to add to the list?

It's about time ...

Communication

A man and his wife were having some problems at home and were giving each other the silent treatment.

The next week, the man realized that he would need his wife to wake him at 5:00am for an early morning business flight to Chicago. Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (AND LOSE), he wrote on a piece of paper, “Please wake me at 5:00am.”

The next morning the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00am and that he had missed his flight. Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife hadn’t awakened him, when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed.The paper said, “It is 5:00am. Wake up.”

Men are not equipped for these kinds of contests.

Tagged a la Occupations

I've been tagged by Scott. The rules are to pick 5 occupations out of the list and complete the phrase. Add a couple of your own occupations to the end of the list then pass it on to at least 3 people.

The List:
If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...(by Ogre)
If I could be a bonnie pirate...(By Teach)
If I could be a servicemember...(By Jeremy)
If I could be a business owner...(By Blue 944)
If I could be an actor... (By Blue 944)
If I could be an agent...(By KelBel)
If I could be video game designer...(By KelBel)
If I could be a comic book artist...(By Stoli)
If I could be a hooker...(By Pollo Loco)
If I could be a crack addict (by Elizabeth)
If I could be a porn star (by Elizabeth)
If I could be a mime (by Garrison)
If I could be a domestic engineer (by Rick)
If I could be a chimney sweep (by laine)
If I could be a masseuse (by laine)
If I could be a taxi driver (by Brian)
If I could be a priest (by Brian)
If I could be a window cleaner (by Grace)
If I could be a gynecologist (by Grace)
If I could be a world leader...(by Scott)
If I could be a healer...(by Scott)
If I could be a proctologist...(by Dave)
If I could be a carpenter...(by Dave)

If I could be an athlete... I'd sure as hell be in better shape than I'm in now. But seriously folks, I would try to do something good with my money and celebrity and be involved with children's charities. I would play the game with the traditional values of sportsmanship and fair play.

If I could be a gynecologist... I would try to be involved in all sorts of activities. In other words, have my hands in everything.

If I could be an innkeeper... I would own a small B&B and take great personal care of my guests. They would want to come back and would be my marketing to other potential guests.

If I could be a painter... Actually, I am trying my hand now as an abstract artist. So I would work to refine what skill I have and try new things. You never know what can happen til you try it.

If I could be a missionary... I would definitely work in West Africa. Having been there many times, I know some of the needs of the people. I would not try to force my ideas and culture on them, but would try to show them how their own rich cultures can be used in the 21st century to help preserve what they have.

I am tagging the following blogger friends of mine (as this list grows):

Chad Fox ... just to see more of his creative juices
Jason ... for a WeHo slant on life
Jim ... just to see how Bitter Waiters think

The Last 10 Years (part V)

I was 48 years old and just arrived for a job in Trinidad & Tobago. I was beginning the last year of a 32 year drinking career. And I was in love.

I was 20 years older, but we bonded from the beginning. The first night we met, he stayed in my hotel with me. From the second night, he was living there with me.

After a month in Trinidad, my company sent me to Morocco on a moments notice. We kept in touch by phone daily and about 6 weeks later, I took 2 weeks off and went home to Houston. Hayden met me there. I showed him all the bars and he met all my friends. When I returned to work in Morocco, Hayden decided to stay in Texas and my apartment. That was fine by me; I trusted him completely. Four months and many daily phone calls later, I was laid-off from my job and returned to Houston. That was in late November, 2002.

I was happy to be unemployed as I could now turn my total attention to Hayden. And drinking. We never made the commitment that two people make when they become lifelong partners. He couldn’t do it; actually had no desire to make that commitment. Hayden is a free spirit. I, on the other hand, made that commitment even if it wasn’t returned. A one-way relationship is not a good situation for a practicing alcoholic. I drank more every day. The more I drank, the more I pushed Hayden away. The more he pulled back, the more I drank. Within 2 months together, by late January, he had told me several times I needed to cut back on my drinking.

I tried. I actually made it to 6pm one day before picking up a beer. Then it was all downhill for that night. Another time, I tried modifying my drinks; a beer, some water, a rum & coke, a coke, etc… That lasted for about 2 weeks and then I went back to drinking more than ever. I was now drinking by 8 o’clock every morning. Hayden always slept late and by the time he got up, I was already drunk. I’d go to Griff’s for the afternoon and sometimes hardly see him til late afternoon when I went home for my nap. We grew apart and it tore me up inside. I loved him so much but the booze was more important. More important than anything.

Finally, in late May 2003, Hayden threatened to call my mother and have me committed to a hospital for my alcoholism. I pleaded for him not to get her involved. He then talked me into going to an AA meeting. So I went. I enjoyed it from the start and began going 2 or 3 times each week. The days I went to a meeting, I would not drink until after the meeting, so it had a positive effect in that way. But I drank as much if not more than ever. Hayden left me in June. He could not take my verbal abuse any more.

This is what I know today. Hayden was my angel. He saved my life.

For the last few days of my drinking, when I hit bottom, please click here.

Thank you for reading this series (Parts I-V). It’s been enlightening to write it as I remember it. Most details have been left out, but I hope I have been able to portray what it was like for this alcoholic. I can never forget the good days or the bad. If I do, the bad ones will return with a vengeance. And I will never blog again.

Have a Nice Flight !!

The Last 10 Years (part IV)

After 5 years of not working, I was hired to do what I had always done. It was so easy and provided a lot of drinking time. It would eventually take me to my alcoholic bottom. But if I had known that, I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Going back to work meant no more umpiring. There was too much clash of schedules. No big deal. For some months, my new company worked me locally, in the Houston-Galveston area. Soon, however, I found myself in Egypt. For the next 4 ½ years they sent me all over Africa and the UK. Sound familiar? I actually got to return to old haunts from the early 90’s and in many places, the bartenders remembered me. Senegal, Nigeria, Gabon and South Africa became old friends revisited.

I must have spent the most time in Dakar, Senegal. I have now been there eight times, totaling about 2 years of my life. In all of these places, I walked a lot. Not much driving unless necessary. And for a white guy, that could be dangerous. So I often would recruit an unofficial bodyguard. From a bar, of course. In Dakar, I found my favorite “assistant”, who provided both protection on the streets and sex in bed. As long as I bought the beer, he was mine.

More years went by. I did my job, they paid me well and I saved almost all of it. I got to stay in London from time to time, at my favorite gay hotel which is well-known for its late night sexual activities. The small basement bar stays open all night as long as there is a customer. Sweet! Sex and booze; that’s what I lived for.

In June 2002, they sent me to Trinidad & Tobago. I had been to this small Caribbean island once before, in 1988 for 4 months. I loved it then and always wanted to return. My favorite bar in the world was there, of course. And the men were scrumptious.

I arrived late at night, checked in at the hotel, then went directly to the bar, just a 2 minute walk from the hotel I had asked to stay in. What a coincidence. That’s what previous experience gets you. Within a few minutes, I met a guy who was absolutely gorgeous, funny and available. He was mine.

His name was Hayden. This man would change my life forever.

to be continued

The Last 10 Years (part III)

When I left off yesterday, I had been in Amsterdam for 6 months. Now it was time to move back to Houston.

It was a month before my 40th birthday. Six months before, I had quit my great job and had been on a drinking binge since then. Now I was back in my hometown. During the first few days, I bought a new car and leased a very nice studio apartment. Had to purchase all new furniture because I had liquidated everything I owned several years back.

The location of my apartment was not accidental. I was in the middle of Montrose, the gay center of Houston and my smart, 2-bedroom, 2-story apartment with the circular stairway was a 2-minute walk from most of the bars.

Within a couple of months, I realized that I was tired of the gay bar scene. It wasn’t fun any more for me. I didn’t know a soul; all of my gay friends had died from HIV/AIDS. I was isolating now because of my drinking and didn’t have the nerve or personality to meet new people. I started going to Griff’s.

I had first been to Griff’s Inn when I was 20 years old, with my older sister. It was a small, Irish pub and sports bar. I felt more comfortable around these people – I can talk sports all day long. And they had great hamburgers! The bar soon changed its longtime ownership when two young guys bought the place. I became good friends with them and I was soon a “fixture” at Griff’s. I became the token gay. I was umpiring again almost on a daily basis, otherwise I was at Griff’s. I began doing many odd-jobs around the bar and producing all the flyers and menus they needed. We soon reached an agreement – I could eat and drink for free in return for all the services I was performing. What a deal!!!

I was usually at the bar by 10 or 10:30 each morning, helping set up the tables for lunch. Whatever time I arrived was when I started drinking. Pints. I loved drinking pints after those years in the UK. No more bottled beer. In keeping with earlier tradition, by mid-afternoon, it was nap time. Then back to Griff's at 5 or 6pm. About this time, there was a modification to my drinking habit. I began drinking rum & coke regularly. Beer during the day, R&C starting around 6pm. Til I passed out. Being a blackout drinker, I don't remember very many nights with any detail.

This went on for 5 years with almost no interruption.

I led a pretty quiet life during those years. Drink all day, except on baseball days. But definitely I would make up for that during the night. I moved to an apartment a block from Griff’s in ’95; a shorter walk. My new friends would often come by the apartment to help alleviate me of some of my stash, whether it be the beer or the marijuana or both. All of my drinking life, my fridge was always stocked.

By the middle of 1997, I thought it was finally time to go back to work so I began looking around. Not much luck. Finally, an old contact from the ‘80’s found me and I was hired to do the same job I had always done in the offshore business.

to be continued

Poor Bill

A helicopter was flying around above Seattle, when an electrical malfunction disabled all of the aircraft’s electronic navigation and communications equipment. Due to the clouds and haze, the pilot could not determine the helicopter’s position.
The pilot saw a tall building, flew toward it, circled, and held up a handwritten sign that read “WHERE AM I?” in large letters.

People in the tall building quickly responded to the aircraft, drew a large sign, and held it in a building window. Their sign said “YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER.”

The pilot smiled, waved, looked at his map, determined the course to steer to SeaTac airport, and landed safely. After they were on the ground, the copilot asked the pilot how he had done it.
“I knew it had to be the Microsoft Building, because they gave me a technically correct but completely useless answer.”

The Last 10 Years (part II)

Yesterday, I told you the events leading up to my resignation from my great job in the UK. For the full text, please scroll down 3 posts to Part 1. Now, on to today's post.

It only took a day of searching for me to find a decent flat in Amsterdam. It was about a half-mile from the Centraal Station, the main train station. It was freshly remodelled with new appliances and fixtures. And it was on the 3rd floor. Lots of steps.

I knew Amsterdam and how to get around quite well. By this time, I had 31 stamps in my passport from entering Holland. Over the last 5 years.

My new accommodations were a 15 minute walk from the area I usually hung out. To get there, I walked past most of the other areas I hung out. So that was handy.

If nothing else, I am a man of routine. Very predictable. Before long, my typical day ran like this: wake up at 6am, smoke a joint while the coffee is brewing. Watch CNN while drinking the first cup, then to the shower. More coffee and another joint. Gather up the necessities for the morning and head out at 7:45am. First stop was an Irish pub. It opened at 8am and I would read the newspaper and drink 2 or 3 pints. Then, next door to “The Doors”, one of about 240 coffee shops in Amsterdam where you can buy marijuana and hash over-the-counter. I’d buy some if I was running low or else just smoke another joint or two. Oh yeah, and have some coffee too.

At 11am, “my” bar opened. I would end up there between 11 and noon, destined to play pool til around 2pm. I was a pretty good shooter and attracted a number of other good players. We all got to know each other well. We’d meet there just about every day; play, drink and get stoned. By mid-afternoon, I would be pretty fucked up and ready for some rest. I often stopped somewhere on the way home to have just one more beer and/or joint. Then it was nap time.

About 5pm or 6pm, I would do the above routine again – all over again. I might change the bars and coffee shops, but the end result was the same. I often wound up at the gay baths which opened at 11pm. When that happened, I would spend the night there and leave about 7am, go home and start all over again. Day after day after day.

I absolutely loved it. It was my heaven. Free to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and didn’t have to talk to anyone if I didn’t want to. Six months and $18K later, I figured I had had enough. Spending too much money and being sooooo non-productive. I knew that I wasn’t in any shape to return to any sort of work. It was now February 1994.

So I moved back to Houston.

to be continued

The Home of Art

Some apparent remodeling being done at The Art League of Houston building.




well.it's.different.

Zane - Norris - Larry @ The Houston Int'l Festival

The Last 10 Years (part 1)

Each day this week, I plan to outline my behaviour during the last 10 years of my drinking. Keep coming back. Maybe by Friday, a pattern will emerge.

By August of 1993, I had been on the road, living out of a suitcase, for almost 5 years. My home base, since early 1989, had been in the UK. Most summers, from April-October, I spent there, working. During the winter months I would be sent to various locations in the Mediterranean and West Africa. Our work was very dependent on offshore weather conditions.

When in the UK, I travelled often; to Wales, Ireland, northern England but mostly to Aberdeen in Scotland. I'd often fly across the North Sea to Holland and take a train from Amsterdam to a small port north of there. Sometimes a trip every week or two -- to somewhere.

I could get around any terminal at London Heathrow with my eyes closed. Sometimes I did.

I knew all the good pubs. In London, Guildford, Seven Oaks, Pembroke, Middlesbrough, Hull, Manchester, Aberdeen, Edinburgh. In Cork, Ireland. In Amsterdam and Den Helder. In Esbjerg, Denmark.

After about 5 years, I needed some time away from work (notice I didn't include time away from pubs). I finally finagled 3 weeks off in August. I went to Amsterdam and took a train to Hamburg, Germany. Spent a few days there then back to Amsterdam for about 10 days, then back to London. The last few days of that time off, I was dreading going back to work. I must include here that I was spending 14-18 hours per day - drinking. The day before I was due back, I realized that I just wasn't ready to return, mentally. I sat in my second home (a pub) and thought it over very hard. The next morning, I walked into the office and resigned. Told the boss I was just totally burned out and couldn't work any more. I had been with the same company* for 12 years. Faithful. Dependable. Now I was done.

Two days later, with everything packed in my 2 suitcases and a loaded bank account, I moved to Amsterdam. My Paradise of Vice.

* it changed ownership in 1992 from American to British, but they still owned me

to be continued

Houston International Festival

Today, I went to the annual Houston International Festival held downtown each year. The theme country this year is INDIA. Just a few random shots. The weather was perfect at about 75 deg and almost no clouds.


THE SCENE


NORRIS & DAVE (Ghandi is taller than I thought) LARRY & FRIEND


ME & MY SAUSAGE



ZANE EATING SOMETHING

Chad Fox Update?

Can anyone update us on the status of Chad Fox? aka Stop Touching My Food

He was experiencing some health issues when he last posted on 21 April. Can't help but be concerned. I don't want to invade his private space, but a general update would be great. I am sure that I am not the only guy out here who is concerned.

Twelve-Step Programs

Pee Test

Ready for today's urinanalysis? You don't need a cup or bottle.

If you are a female, you just can not possibly understand or appreciate this. However, if you are female, go ahead and take the quiz to gain a deeper understanding of the male unit.

Take a deep breath and CLICK HERE.