Ice Capades

So.....in getting up early to make a drive for a much needed 12 Step meeting today, I drove a mile and an inner voice of reason and common sense brought me back home. Frozen rain turned the roads around here into Skateland. Sure of my ability to navigate on half and inch of ice, the "other" cars on the pond were sliding aimlessly, white knuckles apparent, into ditches and snow berms in unison. Lot's of silent screaming visible through oncoming windshields. I now sit safe, having had an hour of dialog with my housemate, the topics of survival from relationships gone awry, sex, and his current insights from the readings of Don Miguel Ruiz's Four Agreements and The Mastery Of Love. The next best thing to a meeting for me.

Spud called at 1AM to let me know he was still drinking himself to death. I listened to his slurs of altered wisdom as he was in need of being heard. I blessed him, told him I loved him and pondered his fate as I drifted back to sleep. Dreams of walking on ice with tread less shoes prevailed as I interpret sure footedness is required. It seems I have been walking on ice most of this year, yet the ice has been thicker than expected.

Standing outside a while ago with a cup of coffee, the Crows and Steller's Jays aware of my new back of peanuts. The Towhees saying hello from the safety of their leafless brier. Tossing the peanuts like a princess in a parade to the hungry children as they say thank you, scrambling to get their fair shares. One of the Jays, a constant who awakens me every morning from a tree next to my window, singing a song in mock of another species. Not the sound of a jay but a Robin on high volume. As I step out the door, he is right there greeting me as a good friend indeed.

As my body acclimates to graveyard shifts, exhaustion takes hold. The human condition of wintertime hibernation taps me and beckons me to recline with a good book and a nap. I will do that soon as the rest of the world will patiently wait for me to do my dance. A dance of social healing based on the theme of recovery. As my reality is shifting, it is as if the melting ice and snow is revealing something of newness, of mystery. For the moment I must wait and allow the melt to occur around me, as me and all my perceived power will only melt what is beneath my warm feet.

StevenLoon

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If I can get through the day without condemning, criticizing or complaining, it's been a good day. If I don't give advice, it's been perfect. - Flloyd Ashcraft

Holidaze

So.....HELLO......There's an article in the December Reader's Digest called Hello Everybody. It is about a man who greeted everybody in his path for a month with a hello or by waving and smiling. He cites 11 things you can learn from one small change.Good article and I won't drone on with the details, yet I ask you to read it and perhaps practice it. I have been practicing it all my life as I am a friendly kind of guy, regardless of the fronts I build and masks I wear. Those of you who know me intimately, know that I am a kind man. Those who don't are terrified of me and think I'm a prick. I am both.

Yesterday I waved at a driver. She was in the turn lane banging her hands on the steering wheel and yelling through the windshield what appeared to be bad words. I stopped and waved and let her turn into her asphalt ramp into shopper's blissland. She looked at me sideways like I was up to something as the driver in the car behind me started banging her hands on the steering wheel. It was like I transferred the first woman's load into the woman behind me. I waved at the woman behind me and she flipped me off. I started laughing and shaking my head as it was so ridiculous, which made her flip harder for emphasis. I laughed harder and waved as she went by in the other lane spewing what I'm sure were bad words. I don't think she could have been sitting any farther forward on the seat of her SUV as she was screaming SOB. Better her than me.

I pulled into a video store to rent Dark Knight, which saw in the theater a few months ago. I walked in saying hello to the clerks, who in turn said hello. I said hello to a customer who was scanning the shelves nearby, and she mumbled hello without a glance in my direction, an automatic response. As I could sit and watch people all day for entertainment, and I sometimes do, I am having fun with this. Especially that most people act like they have never heard the word hello before. I judge that they are waiting for a sales pitch or a spare change comment. Granted I have long hair, but I dress well and look halfway successful. Perhaps I might ask for change for a nickel.

Loon

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If I can get through the day without condemning, criticizing or complaining, it's been a good day. If I don't give advice, it's been perfect. - Flloyd Ashcraft

Father Spud

So......Spud's Father, Curly is 83 with close to 20 years sobriety and just as stubborn as his spawn. Curly had back surgery on November 13th, put off from weeks early due to heart concerns and subsequent testing. Initially when Spud called me back in early October, his words were, "Steven, I need to sober up so I can be there for Dad." Knowing good and well that a man's motivation to sobriety in most cases must be for self, as I reflect on the many times I tried to get clean and sober for my woman or my family. It did not gel until I did it for me me me.....

I arrive yesterday to take a sober man to see his Father. To dance with the facility who was nurturing him post-op. A meeting with a team of four who were processing Curly back to his world of living in an upscale "crusty old fuck" apartment complex surrounded by medical services, including a major Catholic hospital across the street. Spud was shaking horribly and a total embarrassment to himself, asking me to stop at a bar on the way to the meeting. The meeting being that he, Spud, held power of attorney over Curly's affairs. His mind was sharp as a tack, yet his body betrayed that intelligence by the visible shaking, so he sat on his hands as the one hour meeting kicked off.

Two of Curly's sponsee's were in attendance as they had been picking up the slack from Spud's inability to be there for Dad. As we left, a few documents were handed to Spud, which I took and filled out when we got back to his house. His plea for a drink were akin to a child at the candy store window as I pulled into the liquor store to buy him a pint of vodka and a Starbucks Capacino for the mixer. Now, keep in mind that I have not bought a bottle in a liquor store in over 22 years. In fact the only times I have been in said stores was for moving boxes. As a look at the many flavors of Absolute Vodka, I felt I was looking for the right size of pants for my arduous frame. Ah.....there it is, 14 buck a pint? Monarch is five bucks, yet he may as well have his brand as it is the best and he may as well go down in flames as he is sitting outside in the car a total fucking pathetic mess, rocking back and forth like a junkie waiting for his fix. I take my time, not to be cruel but social with the dolt behind the counter who works for the state. No sense of humor as I try to engage her in smalltalk.

Spud is shaking so bad that he cannot open the Starbuck's as he screams, "fucking packaging. Steven, will you open this please?"
I look over my glasses at him and say "you want me to just put a nipple on the bottle", to which he replies "fuck you." I open the Starbuck's with a knife as it was childproof, not to be cruel..... 10 minutes later he is normal and not shaking. Keep in mind here that no one has ever died of Heroin withdrawal, yet many have keeled over in their vomit from sudden alcohol withdrawal. Spud now wants to live, for his Father. Funny how the ultra intelligent, pickled in their addictions, process denial.

After he is back in the groove, we talk about which inpatient he will attend soon. He already contacted Hazelden in Michigan, his alma mater, having been there twice already, yet he won't answer the phone when they call back. I tell him that I will get him to the airport and feed his cat, clean his house up, and do the next indicated thing around Curly. He balks. I then ask him if he wants cremation or burial, Stubborn Nordic Asshole on his tombstone. I offer to call a hooker as I plug in Ken Burn's The War Part 2 as I fill out the paperwork he was handed at the meeting earlier.

Four hours now and it is time for me to leave. He asks me to take the rest of his vodka to which I respond to keep it. I tell him I am not going to babysit him and once again get hooked into his drama. That he has an appointment in the morning with Curly and company to transition him into his home. I tell him that when he is ready for a ride to the airport that I will be there. I will call him at 8AM every morning for a while to remind him that he is loved and cared about. That I will love him until he can learn to love himself. He is grateful and respectful that I sobered him up long enough to take care of business. Until the next time.....

Today I go north to hook up with a man I will ask to be my sponsor. He is 20 plus years clean and sober. A Sundancer I have been in the Lodge with a few times. He will introduce me to some 12 step meetings I have not been to in my new geographic. I was talking to him on the phone when I was on my way to Spud's on Sunday. He told me to "walk tall" as we ended our conversation. I have a warm feeling in my heart in anticipation. It is my turn now to get some healing as I am so fucking cut up. My turn.....

StevenLoon

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If I can get through the day without condemning, criticizing or complaining, it's been a good day. If I don't give advice, it's been perfect. - Flloyd Ashcraft