The Ghostly Whine of an Alcoholic Complaining

Whine: A long-drawn, high-pitched complaining cry or sound.  (Ed. Note: that definition makes me shudder and cringe.)

I've been amused/irritated to hear a mostly continuous stream of grousing and bitching from a select few A.A. members about their preference for in-person meetings over Zoom meetings.  Look, I get it - this isn't the first choice for anybody.  We all want to get back to intimate, face-to-face fellowship but after awhile the complaining just becomes tiresome.  I didn't complain about the snow in Chicago or the humidity in Ohio and I sure don't complain about the L.A. traffic (Ed. Note: I'm lying here - I'm obviously lying here.   I have complained/am complaining/will, in the future, complain, about all of these things.  I have learned, however, eventually, to quit complaining about them all the time and to make the best of whatever situation I'm in that I have no power to change.  After a while the complaining morphs into tiresome bitching.)

Anyway, I've mentioned that one of my solutions to the Zoom situation is to attend meetings back in Ohio, meetings that I attended in person for years and years.  It has been a blast.  I was looking at the Brady Bunch screen (I love how some people sit so still that they look like the frame has frozen and some are in this constant, restless, twitching movement.) and marveling at some of the faces and some of the memories.

There's one guy who I literally, truly love like a brother but with whom I hadn't been communicating for a few years.  A true friend is someone that you can sit down with after a long absence and begin talking as if one of you had stepped away momentarily to use the bathroom or grab a cup of coffee - it's that seamless and natural.  There's no "catching up on what's been going on." There's another guy with whom I was friendly in a marginal way but who really stepped in when my sponsor was dying to give me a boots-on-the-ground perspective, especially at the end when Kenner stopped answering his phone and someone needed to actually drive to the care facility to see what was going on.  There's a not-so-young anymore woman showing up, who just celebrated 20 years of continuous sobriety, the one who told the memorable story about getting yelled at for months because she always showed up for work late and then copping a resentment because no one gave her a reward when she became punctual.  There's a guy who probably doesn't remember me that was just getting sober when a few of us started a men's meeting . . . 15 years ago.  There are several folks there who I chatted with pleasantly but unremarkably when I was in town.  It's fun to see them, too.

I talk about love a lot.  I talk about how it's possible to find the solution to everything, to anything, as long as I'm willing to make an effort.