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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Yep, back again. Brand new box of crayons and clean paper. I get to babble a while until nappy time...

     When I got to the point that I had to stop drinking the only thing I expected was that somehow, some way I would. Stop drinking, that is. A short time later, being an anal-retentive engineer, I had it all planned out from start to finish. With steps (and there wasn't 12 of them) and checkpoints along the way.
     Never got to first base...
     AA got in my way...
     Needless to say all my well designed markers for progress got flushed. Along with my perfect plans, the triumphant return to glory and kudos from all my admirers. The only things left was the horrible feeling that my way wasn't going to work (again) and the idea that life wasn't being very fair. Crap. Being a know-it-all sucks when you don't know squat.
     I was told right from the first by a lot of people (probably closet drinkers, I figured) that the way they did it worked for them. You know, doing those 12 simple steps, getting a sponsor, going to meetings.
     What they didn't say was the steps were simple, but not easy, you would end up telling your sponsor things you wouldn't tell a priest and you could start out with with 90 meetings in 90 days.
     Whoopie...
     So - careful review of the facts back then:
     I had to stop drinking or die.
     My plan to stop sucked.
     Theirs apparently didn't - at least for them.
     OK - I figured at this point I had one of two options. The AA way (takes a while) or a short miserable life followed by a dirt nap. I wasn't really into short and miserable, so I decided to try their way.
     Guess what? It worked. But not the way I expected. Admittedly, I have not had a drink for a while, nor do I have any desire to. Dont want it, don't miss it, don't hate it, just don't care about it in that way. It's all the other things that have happened (and not happened) to me because of the fellowship and those twelve simple steps.
     The facts as I see them now:
     I spend each day not drinking.
     I can look at myself in a mirror.
     I have learned it is OK to be wrong.
     I have a buddy - His name is Jesus Christ.
     I learned that humility is a gift from God.
     I have learned that crying is not unmanly. It's OK to hurt.
     I now know that nobody can take what I have away from me - only I can throw it away. 
     Enough of that. The list goes on.
     If one takes a close look at then and now there is an AA adage in all this prattle: "You can plan the trip - but don't bother planning where you end up". Often I had (and at time still do have) specific expectations as to people, places, things and events. Bad, bad idea for this drunk. Every thing went all wrong because it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. Even if it went right - it wasn't done my way. WAAAH.
     OK, enough drama. Bottom line. If I allow unfulfilled expectations to run my life, I end up with well fulfilled anger and resentments galore. Followed eventually by a pile of amends to make.
     The neat thing about this is when I don't plan the outcome, He usually makes it turn out pretty darn good for all concerned. So it is a good thing for me to remember to do the footwork and then sit back and watch His handiwork...
    And all I expected was to stop drinking - my God, how blind I am...
  
Nuff said,
Dennis

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  I was thinking (yeah, I know - bad image).  I often reflect on who I was, what happened and who I am now. A progress check between the Boss and I, so to speak. 
     I started on this journey to find the sobriety pot of gold at the end of the recovery rainbow. Release from the dastardly grip of the evil alcoholism.
     At various points in this travail I have discovered that anything worth possessing (pearls of great price) I actually had to work for and what I wanted I could only rent, that I couldn't buy them and go on my merry way. Tanstaffl.
     Then I found out that these pearls I found could increase (or decrease) in value depending on the honest effort I expended on this trip. To top that off I learned that only by giving them all away could I keep them. Duh.
     The epiphany that the sobriety pot of gold we all search for is but a dangling carrot in front of the donkey on the treadmill could be a bit hard to swallow.
    But on the other hand.
    One has to look at those pearls that one has gathered and given away. That the journey, once well started is leading to roads, byways and lanes I would have never dreamed of being able to negotiate whilst in my cups. That wonders untold await me for every tuning in the lane.
    Yes - there is also the pain, as in anything worthwhile. When it occurs, I have that moment back to "why me, Lord?". Then I remember that I can take that painful event, cherish the learning from it, share it with others of like mind and give it up to God. Later it is miraculously transformed into yet another pearl I can give to others to aid them in their journey.
     The price? The toll to trudge this path I have chosen is only my willingness to do His will and not mine. A very, very good thing for this drunk to remember...

Nuff said,
Dennis

OBTW - A dump truck driver.

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   I got me a new box of crayons, so I figured that it might be fun to put a little grafitti up here. It's been an interesting month with a bit of excitement in my chosen profession, so that is really keeping me on my toes. My life here at home has had little for me to whine about, so I can't justify complaining about that. So what?
     I'm not even waiting for the other shoe to drop.
     I look at my life - yeah, it's nowhere near perfect, I still make some really dumb mistakes. People still piss me off through no fault of theirs, but by my often twisted perception. But the mistakes I correct as soon as I realize it and my attitude I adjust accordingly. So Why?
     I can only atttribute it to God, AA and you all. I responded to another's correspondence today by thanking them for being a part of my recovery. Why? I have found that working with others in person and in correspondence here has taught me so many hidden things about myself - things I would have never known if it wasn't for the soul searching to find a response that really meant something to both myself and another. I've been forced to dig into my own feelings and motivations for real understanding of those same things for others. I've learned a little about the many manifestations of our disease and a whole lot about the things we really have in common - rather than the few trivial differences.
     Short Story: I went back east for a week to see my father. Here is a man I hated from the time I was eight till I was in my thirties. In fact, there was a five year period where we had no contact at all. This was all corrected later, more through his efforts than mine. I went back there for a multitude of reasons, one was to make an amend. All those years I was out there, he never gave up on me. Whether I knew it or not, he kept track through others, waited and suffered patiently. The amend was made, but he responded with only gratitude for me coming to see him. That I could ever be such a gentleman.
     I could never have done this if it wasn't for the things I learned from you and others in recovery.
     The point of this litany of babble is put the gratitude where it belongs. Deep down inside I know that I would not be the me I am now if not for you. Each and every one of you is a big-time, major-league permanent part of my recovery. For that you have my everlasting gratitude.
Nuff said,
Dennis

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     How many times have I hung my head, said "I'm sorry" and then went right back to doing the same things I was sorry for? At least once or twice, if I recollect right.
     So saying I'm sorry doesn't quite cut the mustard. This amend is to a person on my list who's life I nearly destroyed. I cut off his ambitions, destroyed his friendships, alienated his family, damaged his health. I nearly got him killed countless times. I cost him the respect of others.
     All for another drink.
     He is alive today through no help from me. Only by the grace of God and the few that stood with him in spite of me.
     I can now only ask that I be forgiven. No strings, promises or other conditions.
     I hope to find it in my heart someday to forgive myself...
Nuff said,
Dennis

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Yep - sharpened my crayons and drug out the paper. Figured I'd ramble a bit about a few odds and ends. I was wandering through the blogs and was thinking about how great of a place this is.
     I think back to when I first got here  - the site was a lot smaller then, but it has remained the same in spirit. People helping people. A safe haven for all. Especially for me - then and now.
     I learned. Boy, and how! What experience, strength and hope is really about. That no matter how bad and down I may feel, my problems are nothing to another who has little to no hope. That if I use a kind word or three to help another, it may just help them a little and always helped me a lot. I especially have learned that I am responsible. Wherever and whenever another reaches out for help, my hand better be reaching back.
     Friends have been made, most stayed, some left, some came back. I pray the others that haven't returned will. I hope that others as lost as I once was also find this place and friends.
     I found that I could feel the grief of a friend from thousands of miles away. And found out that the pain of my grief is lessend ever so slightly by sharing it with others. 
     I've been grated the honor of witnessing miracles. Gosh, I think that is the greatest part of recovery. No matter how I feel, I'll read where that miracle occurs that changes the course of someones life forever. And I got to be around to see it. It can't get any better than that, can it?
    And it doesn't cost a thing. What a deal...
Nuff said,
Dennis

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     Hokay, so I can't shut up tonight. Better pray for a power outage or a stuck control key on this thing.
     My wife and I read together daily, Her from Max Lucado's "Grace for the Moment II" and I from AA's "Daily Reflections". It's a thing we committed to when I got sober and has become a very important part of our rising in the morning. 
    The main course today was from Max's book. It was entitled "Travel Light". The premise of the writing was the fact that God has a race for me to run. I may not know the route, how far or where it will end up, but that does not matter a whit. What does is to be prepared for that race.
     I can't run that race without a little prepartion and legwork. Nor can I run it wearing a suit of 16th century medevial armor and carryng a refrigerator. I'd get about ten steps, fall on my face and probably die of heat exhaustion. 
      Max questions how I can share grace if I am still full of guilt, offer comfort if I am disenheartened or carry anothers load if I'm up to my *ss in my own baggage? Good question.
     I'm going to twist this into the AA mold a bit. On page 164 of the Big Book is the "Promises". Go to enough meetings and you memorize it. Don't go to enough and you may wish you had. A sentence in it states simply: "See to it that your relationship with Him is right, and great events will come to pass for you and countless others.".  
     Part of that "relationship with Him" is the emotional baggage I carry to one extent or another. The steps we are supposed to do are designed to help us get rid of that baggage. For if I do not rid myself of the nasty, annoying and spiteful anger, fear and resentments I cannot truly help others.
     Words are easy. I can make quotes from all kinds of references and sermonize till the cows quit giving milk.
     Actions are another story. I can talk the talk, but can I walk the walk? I believe I can, some days far better than others and today better than 6 months ago. Ninety-nine percent of it depends on how straight I am with the Man. Like the Van Zant song says (minus the bottle, duh). Most of it comes from not only getting rid of most of the overweight baggage I started with, but taking care to not pick any extra up along the race. And great things have already occurred for me. I'm still breathing, not drinking and I can look in a mirror again without cringing. Not all bad.
     Notice I didn't say all the baggage? I ain't a saint, and doubt if I ever will be. But for me this is most certainly one of those "progress, not perfection" things. I will probably be be trying to clear the last of the excess baggage as I check out of this zoo. But no regrets. I may not come in first but I am in His race - for the long haul...

Nuff said,
Dennis

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