the quiet alcoholic

A kindly, old gentleman who walks past my house at least daily, stopped to talk today. He has stopped on a couple of other occasions, but tonight was lengthy. He caught me with a mower in hand and he had to comment. Its a reel/push mower and he thought that was just so old-timey. And my dog was outside and he had to comment. He likes my dog and babbles on about it every time he stops. Then my kids came outside and he had to comment. Then he went on and on about the no-longer-in-existence drug house down the street and all the problems they have had with it.

See where I'm going here? He's a talker. And I'm not too much of one, so I nodded a lot.

And then he says, out of the clouded blue sky, "Well, I'm a quiet alcoholic, so you don't have to worry about me."

I looked up from my mowing, certain that he was trying to make a joke. And it was clear from his expression that he was deadly serious. As in "I'm dying of a deadly disease here, folks. Please notice me." And I did.

So I said, "Well, I'm a sober alcoholic. I quit drinking over 10 years ago."

Turns out that he is in the process of trying to gain admittance to a VA treatment program and that he desperately wants to quit drinking. He has been informed by them that if he attempts to quit without help, he may go into DTs. He is 72 years old. Lord only knows how long that man has been drinking.

He said to me, "I want to quit drinking, but I just can't stop."

I want to quit drinking, but I just can't stop.

He was headed down the hill on foot when I saw him. I asked him where he was headed. He said, hedging a bit, "Well, if you must know, I was headed to get a bottle."

There was more to the conversation, but I'm tired and am without the energy to write any more. Lets just say that I was in need of a gratitude check today. I have been taking my sobriety for granted within the last few weeks and I needed a reality check upside the head.

I got one.

Dear gOd, help this man quit drinking.

file this one under 'too much information'

or, 'Ode to the Beard.'

Just found this on another blog and I had to steal it.

I'm a Man Hair lover. Beards, goatees, mustaches, chest hair, all of it. Although, I think that if you have a mustache then you should strive for balance with some chin hair otherwise you're just rockin' the Tom Selleck.

Kind of like this:



or this:

Something tells me that I'm going to regret this post.

Have a great Monday.

15 weeks

The ginormous cow puppy at 15 weeks. He's a tank. And soooo lovable. This picture doesn't do his size justice.

this just in...

Service in AA does not necessarily mean formal dealings with G.S.O or even chairing a meeting. Service work can be as simple as bringing brownies to a meeting or staying after to stack chairs. And, one need not be formally delegated to these tasks. Just bring the brownies. Nobody will complain.

That is all.

seriously?

Evidently I must have a look on my face that welcomes unsolicited observations from people in my life.

"When I see you, I see a person with a lot of deep sadness in their life."

(are you kidding me? deep sadness?)

"When I look at you, I see someone who still harbors a lot of anger."

(::sigh::)

"You really need to let people in more."

(no, actually I don't.)

Folks, lets clear something up. I am from a family of seven. Two parents, five kids. One of the parents and three of the kids have bright sunshiny faces that welcome interaction and are engaging and approachable. The other parent and two other kids (one of which is me,) are of dark, Mediterranean descent, with somber, naturally guarded expressions that are in no way representative of our emotions. We are a secure, contented people that simply don't wear our emotions on our sleeves. There is a good possibility that if you see somber reflection upon my face then I am more than likely deep in thought about my grocery list or home renovation as opposed sad reflection over my divorce or the state of the union.

What is funny is that my mom has given my dad hell about this his entire life and now I find myself in the exact same position. Must be that whole apple-tree thing.

Full circle, I tell you.