Howdy all -
     It's setting up to be a bright, sunny (duh) and quite possibly cheerful day out here in the desert. My keepers aren't around for the moment, so I figure'd I'd get out the soap bubbles and have a little fun (yep - they get to clean up that mess too).
    I've been reading a book lof late (no pictures, so I can't have my crayons as I do it). It's called "Man of Steel and Velvet" by Aubrey Andelin. I originally received a copy of this book from my mother-in-law back when it came out in the 80's (subtle hints, even that long ago. She was a uncommonly wonderful woman).
     It basically teaches a man how to act like one. It talks of strength, compassion and honor. I read it back then, but since I already knew everything about anything worth knowing, paid little heed to it. It crept back into my head recently (non pop-up blocker there any more), so I got an eBay copy and started in on learning to be a man (at 57 years old - talk about "sometimes slowly" - go figure).
     There's an interesting several pages on unselfishness and it's relation to spiritual growth. That kinda caught my eye - I'd love to start growing up instead of growing old. For example it talks of the fact that when I give a donation to the poor, a church or some such thing, that is not an act of unselfishness. It usually is of little trouble, takes no time, and is usually in the form of something I didn't need or care about in the first place. Yes the benefactee received something, but the main reason I do it is to make me feel better about myself (dang, can't get away with anything). 
     Then there is the other kind of gift. Where an in-my-face, up-close and personal sacrifice is necessary to accomplish the giving. One could say doing something that I don't want to do - but because I know it is the spiritually right thing to do. Doing it and never telling anyone. Sacrificing something I want or need to "Git 'er done". 
     Dropping a dime in a peddlers cup on the walk to work is one thing. Walking a mile out of my way to do it is a horse of a different color. Reaching out the hand of forgiveness when I want to strike back. Helping someone I don't like - because they need help. Anonymous random acts of kindness. The list of things I can do are endless. May He grant me the willingness to to get past mayself and do them.
     For the person receiving, it may or may not be about the gift - and it matters little in regards to this tidbit of learning. For this drunk must always remember it must be about the intent and spirit of the giving, not the gift. 

Nuff said,
Dennis

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Hi all,
    Just me puttering around with fingerpaints today. It seems like a good evening to make a mess - as long as someone else cleans it up.

The term situational awareness is a term often used by people involved in combat situations. Knowing exactly where you are in relation to all the things going on around you. What is a danger, what is not. Being in these situations long enough, one can develop a sixth sense that is considered supernatural by others less well informed.
    As a drunk lurching, stumbling and clomping my way through the garden of life I developed a modicum of alcoholic situational awareness. How to look sober when drunk, when a free drink is nearby, when to avoid responsibility, ducking trouble, lying through my smiles - I learned how to play the ism' game. For me it was second nature and I was successful for many years. Too many for my taste.
    Then I ended up running out of chips in that game. Which brought me to AA and here - I was lucky. Many are not.
    I've had to learn whole new forms of situational awareness. I can now sense when a situation I am is is not heathy for me. I learned to observe and learn as opposed to hear and react. I can look at life on life's terms and accept what is placed before me - without getting spun up over it.
     But I believe the best awareness I have now is that of my spiritual condition. When it needs sprucing up, I can feel it - which is a very good thing for this drunk.
     Because my spiritual condition is what empowers me to use that recovery sixth sense for all the needs I now have. Without it I am blind and vunerable - to that disease that would just as soon see me dead. 
     So I guess it pays for me to keep contact with my Senior Partner as close as possible...

Nuff said,
Dennis

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Yes, It's obvious that I don't have enough to do at the moment.
And you'll never have to wonder again why pumpkins shouldn't drink.



Not sure where it came from in the first place, but it sure gets the point across...

YFIR,
Dennis

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     Hi all. Since it's been a bit since I babbled any, I had this coffee can of partly used crayons and today's financial page. So I figured I'd put a few random thoughts down and see if they make any more sense than the fine print.
Been a lot of new folks come join us on our virtual playground. I'm glad to see them all here. Makes it a lot harder to slip and fall when everywhere you turn there is someone willing to prop you up. Tis a good thing. Another good thing is all the ES&H getting bantered about.
     Anyway, here is a little tidbit my wife sent me  - worth thinking about a little:

THE BRICK
     A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.
     The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, 'What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?'
     The young boy was apologetic. 'Please, mister...please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do,' He pleaded. 'I threw the brick because no one else would stop...' With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. 'It's my brother, 'he said 'He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up.'
     Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, 'Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.'
     Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okay. 'Thank you and may God bless you,' the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy! push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.
     It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message: 'Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!'
     God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.

   It's a fairly safe bet that most of us probably got here as a result of a brick of one kind or another. I read this and thought it may just be a good idea for this drunk to never forget the brick that got me here. Figured someone else might think the same.

If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.

If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.

He sends you flowers every spring.

He sends you a sunrise every morning

God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.

Read this last one line very slowly and don't forget it...

If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.


Thanks for being a part of my life...

Nuff said,
Dennis

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     Howdy all. Tis a grand day to drag out the sidewalk chalk and do a little driveway art. This has been one of those days where I got to go to work instead of sitting around the house and getting in trouble.
     I've been thinking a bit (yep, not usually a really bright thing for this drunk to do) about perception, gratitude and serenity. A little definition from a web page can give me the clinical definition: "Perception is the process by which organisms interpret and organize sensation to produce a meaningful experience of the world." That means to me that we humans organize everything about an event around us or an occurance that affects us into a neat little package and file it away.
     One of the people that works for me made a comment earlier this week regarding an experiece where he had to wait along with about 30 other people two hours to get a new access badge for an area he works in. He said it in such a manner that it sounded like "how dare they".
     In my pre-recovery days I would have probably either commiserated or or told him to quit whining - depending on how the hangover felt. Now the the program kicks in. My first thought was here is a highly paid technician sitting around for two hours doing nothing and getting paid for it. I asked him if he brought along any of the documents he needs to complete and worked on them? "Nope", he said. So I asked him, "Which would be easier to stomach, being paid for waiting in line for a badge or not being paid waiting in line for unemployment paperwork?" He said, "I didn't think about it that way."
     He's a normie - and didn't think about it that way.
     The point to this babble is the fact that how I focus and train my perception can drive my gratitude level in the right direction and my serenity to new sustainable heights. All those things that I used to (and still do at times) take for granted (my rights, if you will) are nothing but grains of sand in my hand. If I cup my hands gently I can carry them easily anywhere. If i grab them and squeeze tightly they ooze our of my grasp, lost to the wind. Whereas the bad things (like waiting in line) seem to stick to my hands.
     By perceiving all these events (both the bad and good) as gifts and learning experiences I've found that I can calm my troubled heart and appreciate them as  things that are also part of my recovery. Pass them on and let go as necessary. 
     Having to buy gas to go to work - sure glad to have a job. Medical bill co-pay, mortgage, electric, gas , internet bills - sure glad I got the money to pay them. People who depend on me - pleasure in service A wife - she loves me. God - he does too. And so on, forever. Amen
     Serenity can prevail, even in the storm. I perceive that that is also something to be grateful for...

“I once complained that I had no shoes, but then I met a man who had no feet.”

Nuff said,
Dennis

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Hi All,
     Yep, I'm out of the cage, with crayons in hand and permission from the boss.
     I was thinking about being "smart" or "dumb". I've been termed as both, individually and collectively on one occasion or another. Before fairly recent times being termed as either I wasn't able to accept gracefully. Usually I'd give some lame excuse or other verbal diversion, depending on the situation.
     When I got into AA there where those that told me you can be too smart for the program, but never too dumb.  I now beg to differ a mite. I really think that success in this program depends on two things; the phrase "If you have decided you want what we have and are willing to go to any length to get it..." and Ego. You can really want to be happy, joyous and free, but not willing enough. You can have an ego the size of a case of whiskey and not get past it to admit you can't do it yourself. Exactly what circumstances that have to occur to breed this correct inverse ratio of willingness to ego will probably depend on the person.
     Anyway, the point to this is, the people that came up with this program were not dumb or uneducated. What the did have was the capacity to put their ego in their back pocket and look at things with an awesome sense of humility, realizing that all the good things they had (including their "smarts" and the quality of their sobriety) were not due to to anything they had done. It doesn't matter one whit whether you have a PhD or are a high school dropout - if you have the ability to hold that alcoholic ego in check and are willing - you can have what they had...

Nuff said,
Dennis
   

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 I'm Baaaack! Ain't babbled here for a bit, so I figured I'd drag the crayons and butcher paper out and scribble some random thoughts down before somebody notices they left my cage unlocked.
     Labor day. Last holiday of the summer. Camping, barbeques, get- togethers, parties. Family outings. 
     Back in the good ole drinking days it meant I could stay totally wasted a little longer. Of course the shakes that normally lasted only a day would last two. Heck of a price for all the fun I had that I couldn't remember anyway. Towards the end of my drinking career, the shakes were there all the time, so even long weekends didn't matter. Or the reasons for them.
     Anyway, today it is a bit different. Sober and sane (most days), I also aquired the honor of  having 14 really bright, eager and professional people work for me (yep, I'm an establishment nazi). I just finished their performance evaluations and passed out raises yesterday - just in time for the Labor Day weekend.
     Sitting here putting together performance plans and projects for the team this upcoming year, that song "Forty Hour Week" started playing in my head. And I thought how appropriate it was for all of them to get this in time for Labor Day. And how fortunate I am to have a team made up of the people I have. That the many designs and projects I have put together would have been for nought without their dedicated help and effort. Labor Day is a holiday for celebration and in gratitude of the work that all of us do, every day, day in and day out - even when we really don't want to.
     So this little ditty is for them and you all...

Alabama lyrics - Forty Hour Week

There are people in this country who work hard every day.
Not for fame or fortune do they strive.
But the fruits of their labor are worth more than their pay.
And it's time a few of them were recognized.

Hello Detroit auto workers, let me thank you for your time.
You work a forty hour week for a living', just to send it on down the line.
Hello Pittsburgh steel mill workers, let me thank you for your time.
You work a forty hour week for a living', just to send it on down the line.

This is for the one who swings the hammer, driving home the nail.
Or the one behind the counter, ringing up the sale.
Or the one who fights the fires, the one who brings the mail.
For everyone who works behind the scenes.

You can see them every morning in the factories and the fields.
In the city streets and the quiet country towns.
Working together like spokes inside a wheel.
They keep this country turning around.

Hello Kansas wheat field farmer, let me thank you for your time.
You work a forty hour week for a livin', just to send it on down the line.
Hello West Virginia coal miner, let me thank you for your time.
You work a forty hour week for a livin', just to send it on down the line.

This one is for the one who drives the big rig, up and down the road.
Or the one out in the warehouse, bringing in the load.
Or the waitress, the mechanic, the policeman on patrol.
For everyone who works behind the scenes.
With a spirit you can't replace with no machine.

Hello, America,
Let me thank you for your time.

So, Hello recovery friends,
Let me thank you for YOUR time.

Nuff said,
Dennis

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     I think fingerpainting is the order of the day. Bright primary colors. swirling shapes and funny figures. Not a day for the pastels of sidewaly chalk.
     My wife was reading from Max Lucado this morning about "Bad". And how that simple word has so many different meanings for everyone. And how the meaning changes in application to the unchanging events in our lives. 
     Altogether too long ago I thought that not being able to stay up late was bad. History tests were bad. Puberty was bad. Lawrence Welk was bad. School was bad. Parents were bad.
     Often in the more recent past I thought life was bad. It didn't give me what I felt I deserved. People were bad because they didn't agree with me or didn't do things I felt they should. Others did what I thought they should but didn't do it my way, so they were bad also. People that did things my way were bad because they were spineless or couldn't think for themselves. Nope - you couldn't win. Bad, bad, bad.
     Today all these very same things happen every day. And they aren't bad at all. To me. Today. Maybe being my being judgemental is bad. Maybe my thinking that I am the center of the known universe is bad. Maybe my demanding that I get everything I want is bad.
     I guess it is all just a matter of perception, isn't it?
     The world will not stop turning if I stop cranking. This is not a bad thing (especially for everyone else). A not bad thing for this drunk to remember...

Nuff said,
Dennis

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     Yeah, you guessed right. I'm back. This time I got a case of sidewalk chalk and a whole fricking Walmart parking lot. And my keepers have no idea I'm at it again.  
     Figured I'd prattle on a bit about something I noticed. This little tidbit is way cool for me and for many others (mostly normies) it seems to be downright shameful and disgusting.
     There appears to be a proliferation of younger people joining our merry band of crazy castaways (OK - to me most anyone is younger).
     I have had comments from others how it is a horrible shame that so many younger people are getting forced into recovery. That something should be done (why do they think it's always the government's responsibility to DO SOMETHING?).
     I think it's outstanding. Superb. Great. Want more of you here. I spent 38 years getting ready to get sober. That is longer than many of the newer people here have even been alive. For me there's no regrets. The program has taught me that. But it doesn't stop me from telling every one of you younger people that by joining and sticking to a recovery fellowship now you have saved your own lives and have a chance to live a better life - longer. 
      Right now some of you may not think this, but it does get better (not life - it still sucks all too often).
     But by working the program your contribution to the drama and mayhem of everyday life dwindles to little or nothing. Which can be a good thing if your life recently used to look like a cross between General Hospital and Saw III.
     By being serious about your recovery you can have more fun that you imagined.
     By changing your perceptions and coming to deal with life on life's terms you can have a peace and serenity that you'd never get out of whatever poision drove you here.
     So, stick around and stay for the miracle. It can happen to everyone. Even crochety old men. I thank each and every one of you for becoming a part of my recovery...

Nuff said,
Dennis

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