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.

Those Last Days

I had been so unhappy for months. My relationship with Hayden had been worsening daily. We still lived together and talked. We did things together, but I was always drinking. I was spending 8-10 hours each day at the bar. When not at the bar, I was home - drinking. Hayden wanted to enjoy life; that's hard to do with a drunk. So he did what he had to do and got around more on his own and with others. I always missed him and wanted him with me, but drinking was more important.

By the time of my last drunk, he had moved out. he just couldn't take the verbal abuse any more. We still talked or saw each other every day though. Love was still there but he couldn't bear to see me spiraling down the drain and I simply could not stop drinking. I had been going to AA meetings for 3 months, but continued to drink. In fact, I drank more than ever. The voices inside my head were louder than ever. I cried. I cried every day and night.

Then one day and through that night, I hit my bottom. That incomprehensible demoralization that the Big Book of AA tells us about. It could get no worse for me. Either stop drinking or die. One had to happen - and soon. For 3 days after that last terrible drunk, I was in a daze. I know I went to AA meetings but have no recollection of anything else. I drank a few drinks each of those days but did not get drunk. I was just drinking from habit. On Thursday, September 4, 2003 at a noon meeting of AA, it happened. Forty-five minutes into the meeting as I sat listening, it happened. I asked my Higher Power; God (as I understood Him at that time) to help me. And it happened. Just like that. In less than a second of time, it happened. The obsession, the craving, the absolute need to drink was removed from me. Just like that. I knew it. There could be no doubt. It was total. Complete. The feeling was physical, emotional, spiritual.

I knew I never had to feel that way again. I had been liberated from alcohol. For the remainder of that day, I told people what had happened. Of course, few understood, except for Don K. We had coffee together that afternoon. That night I was alone, without Hayden and before I went to bed, I opened a beer from the fridge. I knew in my heart that this would be my last drink. I didn't really want it, but I made it a symbol as a passing of my former life. I got through half of that beer and then poured the rest down the sink. It was midnight.

When I woke up the next morning, I began a new life. September 5, 2003. My sobriety date.

Fear Triggers Attack

Any attack, whether verbal or physical, is caused by fear. When contemplating an attack, we need to ask ourselves, "What is causing the fear?" That's the issue to consider, and the answer is always the same. Fear occurs when we align ourselves with the ego. Fear has no life of its own.

The urge to attack another person is manageable. We can always curtail the impulse if we are willing to seek the help of the Holy Spirit. Its voice is softer than the voice of the ego, so we have to grow quiet to hear it. But we'll see our "opponent" quite differently after listening to the Spirit.

The Holy spirit is capable only of love. If we are not at peace in a situation, or if we harbor any thought other than love, we are not aligned with the quiet voice. The only barrier to feeling love is the one the ego constructs. We are lucky that its voice can be ignored in an instant.

THE VOICE I HEAR TODAY DETERMINES MY LEVEL OF PEACE.

from Daily Meditations for Practicing THE COURSE by Karen Casey

"Trust me. You'll enjoy it."

Is this your car? I can't imagine what may have happened here.



photo courtesy of "... and i am somebody"

Stealth Disco

Is your office boring? Nothing to do all day? Tired of filing papers, sharpening pencils and meeting at the coffee counter? These guys are gettin' down!!

Have a great Friday, wherever you dance.

Too Close to Home

Last night. 11:30pm. I was awoken by a noise -- sirens.

I looked out of my 3rd story bedroom window and saw some fire trucks and other fire department vehicles and 2 police cars. Curiousity got the best of me, so I walked downstairs to get a better look. Immediately, my phone rang.

A good friend spoke, "Are you OK?"

"Oh. Hi. Sure I'm OK. What's up?"

He laughed a little. "I was driving by and saw all the fire trucks by your house. Just wanted to make sure you're OK." Now I was awake.

Turns out that around the corner from me, a group of townhomes was going up in smoke. No more than 300 yards from my window. The emergency vehicles had been on the scene since 10:45pm and I had slept through most of the action. Three-alarms, 12 fire trucks, 10 other Fire Department vehicles, about 10 police cars.

Fortunately, no one was hurt. One of the homeowners had to jump out of his second story window to safety, but he is OK. Three homes destroyed, but they can be replaced, with time.

I friggin' slept through it all. And I wasn't even passed out.

Need I Say Less?

The Demon Within

Life is soooo much easier today. It requires less thought, less energy. I'm not always scheming on what to do or where and when to do it.

I drank every day for more than 3 decades. During those years, I slowly developed habits and methods to deal with life as it occurred. I learned how to be sneaky, stealthy and downright dishonest.

In recovery now for almost 20 months, I no longer have to worry about ...

... getting thrown off a flight or out of an airport because of my drinking
... blackouts on a daily basis
... the obsession to keep my fridge stocked with beer
... losing my temper with my friends and family
... lying to my friends, bosses and my mother to cover my ass
... getting caught driving
... having to help out other drunk friends
... going to sleep at the bar
... when to start drinking for the day
... hangovers
... vomiting in very inconvenient places
... making expensive long distance phone calls that I don't remember
... going 3 days without eating

I'm sure there's plenty I have forgotten. You can surely add to the list.
COMMENTS?

My Newest Piece

original dAAveArt

Ever wonder ...

Did you ever wonder how the inside of your computer monitor screen stays clean?

Click here

(this may take a few minutes if you have dial-up)

OxyMORONS

Top 20 Oxymorons... emphasis on the MORONS!

20. Government Organization
19. Alone Together
18. Personal Computer
17. Silent Scream
16. Living Dead
15. Same Difference
14. Taped Live
13. Plastic Glasses
12. Tight Slacks
11. Peace Force
10. Pretty Ugly
9. Head Butt
8. Working Vacation
7. Tax Return
6. Virtual Reality
5. Dodge Ram
4. Work Party
3. Jumbo Shrimp
2. Healthy Tan
1. Microsoft Works

Hamlet

I love these cigars. I get them from the UK whenever a friend comes back from there.



and they're healthy too!!

Benedict XVI

The Pope has a new website. CLICK HERE.
(not for the religiously squeamish)

We Love to Brag ...

I was born and raised in Texas. I've lived all over this great planet and have found that of all 50 of the United States, Texas is without a doubt the most recognized state.

Stress Management

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, "How heavy is this glass of water?" Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."

He continued. "And that's the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on. As with the glass ofwater, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden. So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can. Relax; pick them up later after you've rested. Life is short. Enjoy it!"

And then he shared some ways of dealing with the burdens of life:

* Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.
* Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
* Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.
* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
* It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.
* Never buy a car you can't push.
* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.
* Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.
* Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
* The second mouse gets the cheese.
* When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
* Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.
* You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.
* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
* We could learn a lot from crayons. Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.
* A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

courtesy of Zane M.

Love, Tolerance & Life

I spent 10 seasons as a baseball umpire. Not Little League, but from the high-school and college level. And many semi-pro games involving guys in their 20's & 30's. In other words, adults. I had professional training at the finest academy in the world, in Florida. I bring this up because of something that happened yesterday which had nothing to do with baseball, or sports.

A board meeting of my AA recovery center.

It became a heated meeting (to say the least) when personalities became more important than principles. Part of the scope of the By-Laws of the incorporated center are to be guided by the Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous. The Twelfth Tradition states that we are to "put principles over personalities".

My baseball background sometimes helps me tremendously. It taught me to be quick-thinking and objective. I learned that it did not matter what team I liked or didn't like; I had to be totally objective. I can watch, or listen, and make a decision based on an objective opinion. I had to make decisions that I didn't like but were the right ones to make. It was always about being fair. What's the right thing to do?

Some of those at the meeting left with some resentments. I can certainly understand those feelings. But in recovery (especially) I can't allow resentments in my life. I was able to leave with serenity in my heart and in my mind. I prayed last night for those who may have had trouble coming to terms with what happened.

I joked with someone after the meeting that maybe I'm not sober enough yet to be upset by it all. I love recovery!!

SURPRISE!!

Went to a friends' 50th birthday party today. A surprise birthday party.

There was some really good lies told and maneuvering done to bring this one off. How to get 20 people to Kevin's house on Sunday morning without him being there? One of the instigators actually drove Kevin (birthday boy) out of town last night. Not just out of town, but 150 miles out of town. He used a stupid, but plausible excuse (details not important here). So we all met at the house at 11am and they drove up at 11:30. Surprise!!

It was fun and Kevin was totally dumbfounded.



HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEVIN !!

Detente, Texas Style

G.W. finally figured out how to make Israel and Syria see Eye-to-Eye.

Out of Pampers?

Watch and listen as BABY QUEEN sings the blues.

Life in the 1500's (part 3)

The floors at home were dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt.
Hence the saying "dirt poor." The wealthy had slate floors that would
get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on
floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added
more thresh until when you opened the door it would all start slipping
outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway.

Hence the saying a "thresh hold."

In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that
always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things
to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They
would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold
overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in
it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, "Peas
porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days
old."

Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special.
When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off It
was a sign of wealth that a man could "bring home the bacon." They
would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and
"chew the fat."

Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content
caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning
death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400
years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.

Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of
the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or "upper
crust."

Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would
sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking
along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial.
They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the
family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they
would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a "wake."

Participation in Recovery

I go to a lot of meetings at a gay AA recovery center. I'm very active there and go early to meetings and often stay for awhile after they are over. Fellowship. Almost every month, I am asked to chair one or two of the meetings for that particular month. I enjoy doing this.

I chair the noon meetings in April for Thursday. Yesterday I experienced a senior moment and totally forgot that I was chairing. I was reminded just a few minutes before it was to begin. I had no topic prepared. Just had to wing it. I told the group that I had forgotten about chairing the meeting. And then,

"I spent 32+ years drinking and have spent nearly 2 years in recovery. At the age of 51, I have spent most of my life preparing for this meeting. Instead of sitting at home watching a noon sopa opera, I am here participating in my recovery. And I am honored to be sitting in the front of this room. I believe in Unity, Recovery and Service as the way to learn to live sober. I work at those principles each day and try to progress just a little each day.

My question to you, this afternoon, is what are YOU doing today to improve the quality of your recovery that you were not doing yesterday, or last year, or ten years ago?"

I think it went well.

Garage Sales

It's the time of year for garage sales.
Great weather.
Great bargains.

Once upon a time ...

Once upon a time,
in a land far away,
a beautiful, independent,
self assured princess
happened upon a frog as she sat,
contemplating ecological issues
on the shores of an unpolluted pond
in a verdant meadow near her castle.
A frog hopped into the princess’ lap
and said: Elegant Lady, I was once
a handsome prince, until an evil witch
cast a spell upon me.
One kiss from you, however, and I will
turn back into the dapper, young prince
that I am and then, my sweet, we can marry
and setup housekeeping in your castle
with my mother, where you can prepare my meals,
clean my clothes, bear my children,
and forever feel grateful and happy in doing so.
That night, as the princess dined sumptuously
on a repast of lightly sauteed frog legs
seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce,
she chuckled to herself and thought:
“I don’t fucking think so”

Life in the 1500's (part 2)

Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in
May, and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting
to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor.
Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.

Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the
house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and
men, then the women and finally the children Last of all the babies. By
then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it.
Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water."

Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood
underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the
cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it
rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and off
the roof. Hence the saying "It's raining cats and dogs."

There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This
posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess
up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung
over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into
existence.

Get Your Cards Here!

My friend Liz in the UK has begun a small business.

After a long career with the corporate world, she is putting her real talents to work. BIRTHDAY CARDS. Making them at home and selling at boot sales (flea markets to Yanks) and the corner shoppe, it seems to be keeping her busy. She hasn't done the website yet, but I know it's only a matter of time. If you live in the UK and would like one or many custom-made birthday cards, leave a note here and she'll get in touch.

No Religion here ...

I am NOT religous at all. This will (hopefully) be my only post regarding the new pope. But it seems to me that between all the crap put out by the Muslims the past few years and all of the crap currently being put forth by the Catholics-in-power, that there is enough hatred of mankind to keep religion alive and well for decades to come.

Whatever happened to Love and Tolerance?

May God (as I understand Him) bless them all.

Modified Bible

Dryblog has a neat link to a website yesterday. The site contains stories from the Bible told in photographs starring Lego's. Check it out HERE.

Life in the 1500's (part 1)

I don't know if this stuff is true or not, but it makes for good reading.

Life in the 1500's ...

England is old and small and the local folks started running out of
places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the
bones to a "bone-house" and reuse the grave. When reopening these
coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the
inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they
would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the
coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would
have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the "graveyard shift") to
listen for the bell; thus, someone could be "saved by the bell" or was
considered a "dead ringer."

Street Sweeping

At an AA meeting yesterday, the topic was Step 9.

"Made direct amends to such people, except when to do so would injure them or others"

When I completed my 4th and 5th steps, it was evident that I had many resentments during my life. I realized that I had an inability to let go of those resentments. I believe that this was one of my worst defects of character that needed to be "fixed." I began work on Steps 5 and 6 of AA. I continue to pray to God (as I understand Him) to remove my character defects. I shall do this always.

Then came Steps 8 and 9. Making amends.

I had 2 HUGE resentments in my life that I had not dealt with. It was time to do this. With the help and support of my sponsor, I found the courage to do just that. I made my amends, admitting where I was wrong; not just saying I was sorry. That's an important difference. When we say we're sorry, it gives us the loophole to make the same mistake again and then just say we're sorry again. When we own up to wrong behaviour, it shows us that we cannot continue to make the same mistake. So I dealt with these 2 issues and ...

VOILA !! They were gone.

The thought I had yesterday regarding Step 9 is that it gave me CLOSURE on these issues. I had finally cleaned up my side of the street. Not the other person's side, just mine. I am not responsible for them to do what is right.

Heaven and Hell

Beating a Dead Horse to Death

I sit on 2 Boards of Directors. Both are for not-for-profit corporations (that's important here). Before my sobriety, no one ever asked or suggested that I be included on any type of position like this.

Without going into detail, I gotta tell you that I find it amazing how a small group of people can latch onto an issue and NEVER LET IT GO! Before both of these boards are issues that can and should be solved with a short discussion at one sitting. But noooooooooooo ...........

They take an issue, talk it to death, dissect it, throw it around the room, bounce it off the walls, stomp on it a few times to get it nice and dirty, then table it until next month. So next month comes, and the fun starts all over again but lasts a little longer because they've had more time to think about different ways to present it. One of the boards has had the same burning issue since last summer. Almost a friggin' year. Still no closure.

Tonight, at a meeting, I had a scheduled agenda item for presentation. I put it out there and was done in approximately 45 seconds. Matter settled, right? The other 4 people took my clear and concise presentation and talked about it, dissected it, threw it around the room, bounced it off 2 walls, then stomped on it. Then, and only then, about 20 minutes later, did they concur that I had accomplished the task given to me.

So if you ever need to know how to drag a one-hour meeting into 3 hours, write me and I'll get back to you with a short story on dissection, throwing, bouncing, stomping and procrastination. You'll be worn out.

My New Server

Spanish Clay-Court Tennis Sensation
RAFAEL NADAL

Delirium Tremens

Delirium tremens is a disorder involving sudden and severe mental changes or neurologic changes caused by abruptly stopping the use of alcohol. Rapid pulse rate, elevated blood pressure, and temperature elevation also may be present.

I was sitting on a bar stool at a pub in London. I noticed a slight shaking in my right hand as I brought the pint of beer towards my lips. This continued for several minutes, then disappeared. I didn't think too much about it at the time, but I remember it now. That was in 1990. I was 36 years old and had been drinking for 19 years.

That scenario played out many times as more months went by. At first, I thought I might be coming down with Parkinson's Disease. Then I figured out what it was. It got more common and it got more severe. By the mid-nineties, it was an every day occurrence. I knew how to make it stop; have a drink. I could do that when I wasn't working, and I did.

By 1998, I found that I could not write legibly in the mornings, unless I had a drink or two to "quiet my nerves." During my last year of drinking, when I drank up to 18 hours EVERY day, it had become part of my daily ritual. I tried to ignore it. I couldn't write checks to pay my bills until I had a few drinks. To drink my coffee in the mornings, I needed two hands and even then, it was difficult.

As I've posted before, I continued to drink heavily for my first 3 months in AA. I always had a cup of coffee during a meeting and always tried to sit on the back row so no one would see me using two hands to drink my java. Yeah, right, no one would see. LOL

Then I finally hit my bottom, my turning point, that Incomprehensible Demoralization. One episode of the last week was in an AA meeting. I was using 2 hands for my coffee and even then, I spilled the full cup on the floor while someone was sharing! I was so embarrassed. But no one said anything.

They knew.

Maturing

Recently, I was diagnosed with A. A. A. D. D. - Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder. This is how it manifests:

I decide to water my garden. As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide my car needs washing. As I start toward the garage, I notice that there is mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier.

I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car. I lay my car keys down on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full. So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.

But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first. I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only one check left. My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke that I had been drinking. I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over. I see that the Coke is getting warm, and I decide I should put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold. As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye--they need to be watered.

I set the Coke down on the counter, and I discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning. I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly I spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I will be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.

I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor. So, I set the remote back down on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill. Then I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day:
the car isn't washed,
the bills aren't paid,
there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter,
the flowers don't have enough water,
there is still only one check in my check book,
I can't find the remote,
I can't find my glasses,
I don't remember what I did with the car keys.

Then when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all day long, and I'm really tired. I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll check my e-mail.

Do me a favor, will you? Send this message to everyone you know, because I don't remember to whom it has been sent.

A Long Day

April 1989. I lived in a rental house with my boyfriend of 4 years. We had a very dysfunctional relationship. I worked in the Houston office of an oil exploration company. One of our boats had just completed a project and was on its way from West Africa to the North Sea. It was enroute to a small port in The Netherlands. On the way, it had stopped off in the Canary Islands off the northwest coast of Africa to refuel and drop off some boxes of seismic data. The data was why we were in business; it was worth millions of dollars and had to be shipped to the appropriate oil company.

Paul, another long-time employee, was baby-sitting the data, waiting for it to be shipped off. Unfortunately, the customs agents who had to approve the shipment were on strike. Welcome to Spain. Paul had been waiting a week to get the shipment off, to no avail. A lot of wasted time. And Paul need to be in Den Helder, the port in The Netherlands to meet the boat on its arrival.

Three days before the expected port call in Den Helder, my boss in Houston told me to pack a bag and get to Las Palmas, the city in the Canary Islands. He said Paul had to get out of there and head north to Den Helder. My job would be to wait out the customs strike and make sure the data was expedited and shipped off. I packed a small suitcase and was off to the airport. Houston to Paris (10 hours), Paris to Madrid (2 hours), Madrid to Las Palmas (1 1/2 hours). Add the waiting time in the airports and it took me about 17 hours to get to my destination. Paul met me at the airport on my arrival. While I had been in the air, the strike ended, the data was shipped off and he had me a ticket to fly with him to The Netherlands. An hour wait for the flight and we were off to Madrid. Spent the night there and then got to Den Helder the following morning. That had been a long day for me, actually spanning 2 days.

As things worked out, I ended up spending 5 years away from home on that trip. Things changed so quickly that the company decided I should just stay over there. My house and my boyfriend became history. There were a lot of phone calls those first couple of months, but it all worked out for the best. That began the greatest five years of my life.

Change (everything)

If you are in recovery from alcoholism or another deadly addiction, let's assume you are not practicing that addiction today. That's a HUGE change.

For me, there have been many other changes I've had to make since stopping drinking. I have completely changed my friends. I have stopped going to bars. I have dedicated myself to going to recovery meetings and trying to live the 12 steps. There are a bunch more changes I need to make, one day at a time.

What changes have you made, or what changes do you see in the near future that you need to make to enhance your sobriety? Comments ....

Blog Bowling

Like to bowl? Settle back, get your shoes on and enjoy. Beware that this can easily become another one of your addicitons. Click here.

The Progression of My Alcoholism

I had so much fun for 31 years. I started drinking in high school and really got good at it while in college. Keg parties out in the woods with hundreds of 20 year-old kids getting blitzed. I had a wonderful ceramic bong at my apartment when I was in college. I knew a lot of the guys on the football, basketball and track teams. They came over all the time to get high. Of course, there was always beer in the fridge. Too many friends to remember them all.

Throughout my twenties I'd be at the gay bars every night. Every night. Craziness. Drinking and driving. Group sex. Marijuana. Poppers. Staying up all night and going to work on 2 or 3 hours sleep.

By my mid-thirties, I was living overseas in the UK and Africa. Different bars every night. Every night. Gay bath-houses complete with a full bar. Winding up with a guy at his place without a clue where I was when I woke up (or came to). Often on the wrong side of town. Where'd my money go? How did my cigarette pack get bent in half? Why are my clothes so dirty?

By the time I was in my late forties, beer all day, rum & coke at night. All my gay friends are dead from HIV/AIDS. Now I'm pretty much just hanging out at straight bars. Just to drink and be around other hard drinkers. Not many friends. Well, they were friends when I had dope to smoke. No driving after 9am or 10am because I can't drink and drive any more. If I needed to drive anywhere today, better do it before noon. So I moved a block from my favorite bar. Then I bought my favorite bar.

Forty nine years old. The world is against me. No one understands me. Why does all this shit have to happen to me? I don't deserve this. Why won't anybody talk to me?

Is this a progressive disease? I think so.

Family Tree

Wrong Advertisement

Oh, those homosexuals

Gay Orbit posts a funny one today.

Now He's Legal

Chris was one of my first friends in recovery. He helped me a lot in that first month or two just because he was there and I still had so much useless crap going through my head. We did some service work / physical labor together and drank volumes of coffee together. He's had a lot of problems since September 2003 (when we met) but has faced them and dealt with them.

Chris picked up his 1 Year Clean & Sober Milestone last night. Next week, he will be the ripe old age of 21.

Damn.


Happy Birthday Chris !!

Participation in Life

I mentioned to Doughgirl the other day that she will be working Steps 6 & 7 of AA's Twelve Steps forever (hopefully). I believe that when the total program is done correctly, that a person is never finished with them. This goes for most of the steps as we try to live them one day at a time.

Basically, Steps 6 and 7 ask us to be willing for our Higher Power or God to remove our character defects and shortcomings. We understand that we are only asking Him to do this; it may never happen or it may partially happen. It rarely will happen when we want it to nor to the degree that we wish. There are many variables.

Have I truly worked Steps 1-5 already? Completely?
Am I ENTIRELY ready for this to happen?
Am I SINCERE when I ask Him to do this?

Assuming all this is done, I have to realize that my spirituality obviously comes into play now. I am praying to my Higher Power, whatever that may be.

Now, here's the BIG thing to me: I must be willing to participate in these steps by changing my behaviour. EXAMPLE: my drinking was nothing more than a symptom of my disease, just another character defect. My HP removed that desire and obsession to drink when I asked Him to. But I can very easily take another drink if I so choose. I absolutely must participate in the removal of that desire by simply not taking a drink. The same goes for most of my other defects. Whether they be resentments, sex, sloth or whatever. I must take action to avoid those things that will kill me. This is where the other steps come into my program. It's all tied together. I am powerless to remove these defects by myself, but I am not powerless when it comes to practicing them.

I hope this makes at least a bit of sense. I find it difficult to put into words. But I tried.

Big Man, Small World

I took my elderly Mom to her regular doctor appointment yesterday. After sitting in the waiting room for a bit, I got bored, stood up to walk outside for a smoke and then I saw him.

Mike and I first met in 1989 in Nouakchott, Mauritania. (LOL) That's in northwest Africa, in case you're wondering. Sahara Desert and all that goes with it. We were both there working for our respective companies on an oil exploration project.

Over the next 3+ years, we worked together a couple more times. The longest time we worked together was in Dakar (Senegal) for about 4 months. We had adjoining apartments in an old colonial block of flats.

He was originally from Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) but was a US resident for about 20 years. We both travelled so much, it didn't matter where we were from because we were rarely there. Mike and I were drinking buddies. Mike could down a beer as fast as any man I've ever known. He's a large, burly man with an "in your face" presence. Looked like a heavyweight boxer. Loud, sometimes obnoxious, and the nicest guy you'd ever want to know. A great companion in a 3rd world country because he spoke several languages and took shit from nobody.

He picked up any available girl almost every night of the week. He never asked me why I didn't do the same. Maybe he didn't notice. We were always drunk. We drank breakfast, lunch and dinner together on many occasions. Yet we still got our work done; we were "functioning alcoholics." The last time we saw each other was in 1992.

Walking toward the door to go smoke, I actually did a double-take. As I got within a few feet I just said, "Hey, Mike." He glanced my way and stopped. "Dave! How ya doin' man?" No hesitation at all, immediate recognition. We chatted for a few minutes, marveling over the fact of seeing each other in this place, at this time, after all these years.

My Mom walked out from her appointment and I introduced the two of them. Niceties here and there and we were off.

Considering where we ran into each other yesterday, I hope Mike is OK. I did not ask. I also did not tell him that I stopped drinking almost two years ago. I couldn't tell him; he smelled like he had just finished drinking breakfast.

Moi, Mike's girlfriend du jour & Mike in the Busch Lite t-shirt (Dakar, Senegal)

Mike with friends at our bar/office, The Ponty (Dakar, Senegal)

ISM

At first, I just didn't know it. Then I was told it. I tried it. It worked. Then I forgot it. I was told again. I did it again. It worked again.

I'm not just an alcoholic. I have alcoholISM. They tell that ISM stands for incredibly short memory. That's me. Oh yeah, that's me. Did I tell you that I'm an alcoholic?

For a couple of weeks, I've been in a largely self-imposed pity party. Oh, I am such a victim! And I couldn't see a way out except to wait for it to pass. They also told me that This Too Shall Pass. But I couldn't see another way out. But of course, because I went to another meeting I finally heard what I needed to hear. A reminder (again).

Just ask God. Ask your Higher Power. If you really mean it, He'll take away those thoughts.

It worked. Again.

Dumpster Diver

I live in a townhouse composed of 29 units. Being the cheap bastard that I am, I found this globe outside at the common waste receptacle.



It now resides safely inside my modest home.

Hey Nelson's !!!

I'm a curious sort. There is a frequent visitor to this blog by the name of NELSON FAMILY. I'd be ever so pleased if you'd introduce yourself to me. Just 'cause I'm a curious sort.

Still Bloomin'

This lovely flower (whatever the hell it is) is continuing to bloom. Check the last pic of it from 3 days ago. Ya gotta scroll down to see it then.





Have a lovely Sunday.

Justin

The phone rang at 3:27am. I got up and went downstairs to open the door for Justin. He was just arriving. He had called yesterday afternoon to let me know he was coming.

Justin (AKA Jimmy) lives in Austin, about 200 miles west of Houston. He comes to town about once a month to make a little extra money with some regular, local clients. Justin is a Certified Massage Therapist and Instructor.

He’s also into yoga and is a former ballet dancer (note the legs). Justin is a very laid-back kind of guy. He loves to meditate. I admire the way he can go into an almost trance-like state and close out the rest of the world. The only time I could do that was with the assistance of a lot of booze and a handful of joints. When I’ve tried meditation, I just fall asleep.

When he’s in town, Justin sleeps here at my place. I live in the middle of all the action and it’s a good central location for him to be based for the few days he’s here. We have the strangest relationship I’ve ever had with a gay guy. We’ve never had sex. Here’s this handsome man with a gorgeous body, sleeps with me and walks around sans clothes and we’ve never had sex. That’s just not where our relationship has taken us. He has no fear of being raped by me. Nor me by him; he’s into guys closer to his own age. We can and do talk about anything and everything. I give him a set of house keys while he’s here so he can come and go as he wishes. I could count on one hand the people I would give my keys to. There would still be a couple free fingers left over.

They told me when I got sober that I would only have to change everything. Old behaviour for new behaviour.

It’s all about trust and integrity.


Justin from Austin

Bloomer!

image from My Garden april 7, 2005

Is Your Cup Full?

Here's a cute test for you.

Should Have Worn a Condom

A 65 year old man went to the doctor for his Class II exam and the doctor was amazed at what good shape the guy was in. The doctor asked, "To what do you attribute your good health?"

The old timer said, "I'm a helicopter pilot and that's why I'm in such good shape. I'm up well before daylight, climb all over the helicopter doing my preflight inspection, flying all day, etc." The doctor said, "Well, I'm sure that helps, but there's got to be more to it. How old was your dad when he died?"

The old timer said, "Who said my dad's dead?" The doctor said, "You mean you're 65 years old and your dad's still alive? How old is he?" The old timer said, "He's 84 yrs old and, in fact, he built and flies his own airplane and he went flying with me this morning. That's why he's still alive... he's a pilot too!"

The doctor said, "Well, that's great, but I'm sure there's more to it. How about your dad's dad? How old was he when he died?" The old timer said, "Who said my grandpa's dead?"

The doctor said, "You mean your dad is 84 years old and his father is still living! How old is he?" The old timer said, "Grandpa is 102 years old and he was a pilot too." The doctor was getting frustrated at this point and said, "I guess he went flying with you this morning too?"

The old timer said, "No...Grandpa couldn't go this morning because he just got married and he's on his honeymoon." The doctor said in amazement, "Got married!! Why would a 102-year-old guy want to get married?"

The old timer said, "Who said he wanted to?"

Sponsor vs Therapist

In A.A. and many other 12-step programs, it is suggested that one get a sponsor. The role of the sponsor is basically to help his/her sponsee to learn the meaning of the 12 steps and to be a person to whom the sponsee can talk freely and openly about his/her problems. Of course, the sponsor is just another recovering alcoholic going through their own challenges of life. A good sponsor probably will not put up with the excuses or irrational justifications of a drunk; in other words, a no-nonsense person.

The sponsor is not meant to be all things, especially not a therapist, as few sponsors will have any training in that area. I came across this and thought I'd pass it along.


THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A SPONSOR AND A THERAPIST

1. A sponsor isn't all that interested in why you drank.
2. A therapist thinks your problem is lack of self-esteem and negative self-image; a sponsor thinks your problem is you.
3. A therapist wants to pamper your inner child; your sponsor thinks it should be spanked.
4. A sponsor thinks your inventory should be about you, not your parents.
5. A sponsor thinks you should not confront your parents, but rather make amends to them.
6. The only time your sponsor uses the word "closure" is before the word "mouth."
7. A sponsor thinks boundaries are things you need to take down ... not build up.
8. A therapist wants you to love yourself first; a sponsor wants you to love others first.
9. A therapist prescribes care-taking medication while a sponsor prescribes prayer-making and meditation.
10. A sponsor thinks anger management skills are numbered one through twelve.
11. Because you've been sober ninety days, a therapist recommends you make a list of all your goals and objectives for the next five years ... starting with finishing up that degree. A sponsor thinks you should continue cleaning coffee pots and occasionally mopping.
12. Lastly, a sponsor will not lose his/her license if he/she talks about God.

Baseball Trivia Question

Only 2 pitchers in MLB history have posted a winning record in their first 10 seasons.

Name them.

I'LL POST THE ANSWER ON FRIDAY.

Links to Recovery

There are countless websites out there on Recovery. Of course.

I have linked 2 of my favorite blogs that provide much recovery information and many links. The Milkman and Dryblog update almost daily with additional information.

Visit them when you have time.

Candy for Dessert