I took my car in today to get the oil changed. I don't like it when I have to give money to people who then do things to my car. I don't trust them, believing them to be incompetent and corrupt. Plus, I don't know anything about cars. I'm pretty sure that they work by magic. I've never looked in the front part of the car, where the "engine" is supposed to be located. Sometimes car salesmen loosen the hood and beckon to me, trying to get me to look in there, but I wave them off. I'd prefer not to know. The compartment could be empty or it could contain wraiths or animals. Nothing good could come from me looking in the engine compartment.
Mechanics can say anything they want to me and I'd never be the wiser: "Seaweed, your Johnson Rod is shot to hell."
"Well, OK, throw in a new Johnson Rod," I'd say.
You can see, for me, that a good mechanic is more valuable than a good heart surgeon.
When I was visiting Vacation City last year I took my car - which needed an oil change - to the car dealer. They gave me quote for a lot of unanticipated work which was going to cost about 6X what I expected to pay. Aghast, my worst suspicions confirmed, I fled. It would have been cheaper to just buy a new car than submit to their suggested maintenance.
I chose a company at random out of the phone book and they did the work - they were reasonably priced and fair. I believed them when they told me what needed to be done so I did whatever they recommended. I liked the owner. We talked for a while about Vacation City and he was a good source of information.
I walked into his store today and re-introduced myself. It took him a minute but he remembered who I was. As he was writing up my work order I mentioned that a broken light fixture that he replaced last year had broken again. Being as I own a Very Expensive Car it comes chock-a-block full of Very Expensive Parts. I asked if he would call the Very Expensive Car Dealer to see if they could "do anything" besides collapse in laughter that someone would ask them to do something like stand behind their Very Expensive Parts. I was OK with it, really - it wasn't his fault that the Very Expensive Part was a piece of crap in disguise.
I got back.
"Well, I called the dealer," he said. "And they're really not going to do anything."
I laughed. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" I said. "Isn't that their motto: 'We really don't do anything.' " I wasn't sure what I was going to do about the broken light fixture but I sure wasn't going to lose any sleep over it.
"We're going to take care of it," he said. "We've ordered the part. Come by in a few days and we'll put it in for you. We think that our work should last more than a few months."
How about them apples? You think that guy has a customer for life? I didn't ask for this and I wasn't going to ask for this but he did the right thing.
I'm going to put in the top of the line Johnson Rod my next visit.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Friday, March 14, 2014
Rigorous Honesty
Rigorous: Manifesting, exercising, or favoring rigour; allowing no abatement or mitigation; scrupulously accurate; exact; strict; severe; relentless.
"They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty."
So I head off to my favorite Overpriced Specialty Coffee Drink Emporium to get my coffee today. This establishment also sells a newspaper which I like to read but am not fond of . . . you know . . . actually paying for. They offer access to the very same paper on-line. This is OK if you like squinting at a little cell phone screen in the bright sunshine, which I do not.
So I've gotten in the habit of ordering my coffee, fixing it up with some kind of chemical which causes out-of-control tumor formation in lab rats, then picking up a newspaper and taking it outside with me, to read at my convenience. I decline to offer any money for this service. I'm a good customer, right? It's really almost the same as reading it on-line, right? The store has thoughtfully placed the newspaper stand right next to the door so that I can conveniently borrow it with a very low outlay of cash. I just want to read the headlines.
Then . . . the newspaper stand moves. Right next to the cashier. The cashier can reach across the counter and touch the newspaper. This caused me some brief consternation. I'm guessing the store was losing newspapers to other enterprising ne'er-do-wells who don't thoughtfully return it when they're done reading it even though this isn't a fucking library.
Now, I'm not a thief. I never stole stuff. I'd like to say it was out of some higher moral principle but I suspect mostly I was afraid of being caught. But on day two I bought my coffee and lingered at the counter a beat until the cashier looked away, then tucked a newspaper under my arm. It was a furtive move on my part but not outrageously so. I chatted with the servers, holding the newspaper, not hiding it, got my drink and went outside, where I read it as if nothing had changed.
I confess to a little thrill. I can see how people steal things. It's not that difficult. I don't know why this surprises me - I'm a liar par excellance.
Rigorous honesty - it's right in "How It Works" for chrissake.
"They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty."
So I head off to my favorite Overpriced Specialty Coffee Drink Emporium to get my coffee today. This establishment also sells a newspaper which I like to read but am not fond of . . . you know . . . actually paying for. They offer access to the very same paper on-line. This is OK if you like squinting at a little cell phone screen in the bright sunshine, which I do not.
So I've gotten in the habit of ordering my coffee, fixing it up with some kind of chemical which causes out-of-control tumor formation in lab rats, then picking up a newspaper and taking it outside with me, to read at my convenience. I decline to offer any money for this service. I'm a good customer, right? It's really almost the same as reading it on-line, right? The store has thoughtfully placed the newspaper stand right next to the door so that I can conveniently borrow it with a very low outlay of cash. I just want to read the headlines.
Then . . . the newspaper stand moves. Right next to the cashier. The cashier can reach across the counter and touch the newspaper. This caused me some brief consternation. I'm guessing the store was losing newspapers to other enterprising ne'er-do-wells who don't thoughtfully return it when they're done reading it even though this isn't a fucking library.
Now, I'm not a thief. I never stole stuff. I'd like to say it was out of some higher moral principle but I suspect mostly I was afraid of being caught. But on day two I bought my coffee and lingered at the counter a beat until the cashier looked away, then tucked a newspaper under my arm. It was a furtive move on my part but not outrageously so. I chatted with the servers, holding the newspaper, not hiding it, got my drink and went outside, where I read it as if nothing had changed.
I confess to a little thrill. I can see how people steal things. It's not that difficult. I don't know why this surprises me - I'm a liar par excellance.
Rigorous honesty - it's right in "How It Works" for chrissake.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Unsolicited Advice
Hyperbole: Extreme overstatement or exaggeration.
At the meeting this morning I spoke of my tendency to beat myself up. I was way over the top in my description - way, way over the top. It is my style. It is as close to lying that I can get and not be labeled a liar. I was so far over the top that I was pretty sure everyone knew that I was making most of the shit up.
Now, to be honest about it, I am hard on myself and I have a long history of self-flagellation. It's kind of a hobby. I find it amusing to say non-amusing things about myself. I'm not nearly as hard on myself as I was when I was drinking and I don't dwell on it overly much any more. A lot of the people at the meeting know me and my love of the black art of bullshit.
Nonetheless, I received a call from a new guy who has reached out to me a couple of times. He asked me if I wanted some unsolicited advice.
"Absolutely," I said, wondering if there is any other kind. Nobody is harder on me than me so I'm never worried about what someone else might say. It generally is a lot kinder than what I'm telling my own self.
He proceeded to give me some helpful tips and exercises on how to not be so hard on myself. I listened bemusedly. He said some good stuff which I might have tried had I indeed been hard on myself which I had not.
There's a point here somewhere. See if you can find it, then report back to me. I'm genuinely curious.
At the meeting this morning I spoke of my tendency to beat myself up. I was way over the top in my description - way, way over the top. It is my style. It is as close to lying that I can get and not be labeled a liar. I was so far over the top that I was pretty sure everyone knew that I was making most of the shit up.
Now, to be honest about it, I am hard on myself and I have a long history of self-flagellation. It's kind of a hobby. I find it amusing to say non-amusing things about myself. I'm not nearly as hard on myself as I was when I was drinking and I don't dwell on it overly much any more. A lot of the people at the meeting know me and my love of the black art of bullshit.
Nonetheless, I received a call from a new guy who has reached out to me a couple of times. He asked me if I wanted some unsolicited advice.
"Absolutely," I said, wondering if there is any other kind. Nobody is harder on me than me so I'm never worried about what someone else might say. It generally is a lot kinder than what I'm telling my own self.
He proceeded to give me some helpful tips and exercises on how to not be so hard on myself. I listened bemusedly. He said some good stuff which I might have tried had I indeed been hard on myself which I had not.
There's a point here somewhere. See if you can find it, then report back to me. I'm genuinely curious.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Self-Righteous Seaweed
I've been pondering my outsized, outrageous, out-of-line reaction to the sweet old lady who talks at every meeting and who always brings up religion. Not just religion - a brand of religion that irks the shit out of me. So I puff up with justified outrage. I want it stopped - I want it stopped bad. And I think I'm the man to do the stopping.
I allowed a couple of other similarly outraged people to draw me into their ire. I'm not blaming them, mind you, because I'm more than happy to get self-righteous when it suits me. I like looking down my nose at other people. If I can point to any small personal growth over the years it would be this: I did not act. I waited. I'm an ass when I act quickly. I'm an ass most of the time but I'm a big one when I pop off.
I started to pay attention at my meetings to religious and spiritual references. You know what? I found a lot of them. It's just that most of them didn't awaken lousy childhood memories in me. I found them to be innocuous and pleasant. Some of them were pretty religious, too.
Today we read a section in our literature where it explains why we take great pains to make our organization so welcoming. As our organization was finding its way early on we took great pains to keep undesirable people out of our meetings, if by "undesirable" you mean "anyone who wasn't old, white, male, professional, Christian, and college educated." The section talked about a gay man who was almost booted out and then it talked about an atheist who was not welcomed with open arms. In fact, when he went back out for a while it seemed that his group took an almost grim satisfaction over his stumble.
So here I am: Self-Righteous Seaweed, ready to throw out someone who is too religious.
Full circle, people, full circle.
I allowed a couple of other similarly outraged people to draw me into their ire. I'm not blaming them, mind you, because I'm more than happy to get self-righteous when it suits me. I like looking down my nose at other people. If I can point to any small personal growth over the years it would be this: I did not act. I waited. I'm an ass when I act quickly. I'm an ass most of the time but I'm a big one when I pop off.
I started to pay attention at my meetings to religious and spiritual references. You know what? I found a lot of them. It's just that most of them didn't awaken lousy childhood memories in me. I found them to be innocuous and pleasant. Some of them were pretty religious, too.
Today we read a section in our literature where it explains why we take great pains to make our organization so welcoming. As our organization was finding its way early on we took great pains to keep undesirable people out of our meetings, if by "undesirable" you mean "anyone who wasn't old, white, male, professional, Christian, and college educated." The section talked about a gay man who was almost booted out and then it talked about an atheist who was not welcomed with open arms. In fact, when he went back out for a while it seemed that his group took an almost grim satisfaction over his stumble.
So here I am: Self-Righteous Seaweed, ready to throw out someone who is too religious.
Full circle, people, full circle.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Off I Go
Yonder: In a distant, indicated place; over there.
I'm fascinated by what I learn when I'm knocking heads with an individual who has some of the same glaring character defects that I have. I carom back and forth between outrage and sympathy, frustration and patience, understanding and confusion. I must be a real handful . But here's the thing, the saving grace: I'm always trying to learn.
to be around.
I hate to be told what to do because I'm so obviously right all of the time. I'm selfish but I don't think so. I'm stubborn and I believe I'm not. I want to be left alone to find my own way and I don't want anyone else telling me otherwise. I know when I'm on a roll my mind is locked down tight. Nothing that I don't come up with all by my lonesome is going to penetrate those defences.
I think a lot about how locked down tight drunks are when they come into The Rooms. It's a sad thing, a mind not open to nuthin'.
Off I go, into the wild, blue yonder.
I'm fascinated by what I learn when I'm knocking heads with an individual who has some of the same glaring character defects that I have. I carom back and forth between outrage and sympathy, frustration and patience, understanding and confusion. I must be a real handful . But here's the thing, the saving grace: I'm always trying to learn.
to be around.
I hate to be told what to do because I'm so obviously right all of the time. I'm selfish but I don't think so. I'm stubborn and I believe I'm not. I want to be left alone to find my own way and I don't want anyone else telling me otherwise. I know when I'm on a roll my mind is locked down tight. Nothing that I don't come up with all by my lonesome is going to penetrate those defences.
I think a lot about how locked down tight drunks are when they come into The Rooms. It's a sad thing, a mind not open to nuthin'.
Off I go, into the wild, blue yonder.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Extreme Recovery
Extreme: Excessive, or far beyond the norm.
"So our troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. They arise out of ourselves, and the alcoholic is an extreme example of self-will run riot, though he usually doesn't think so."
This is such a de facto fact-o for me. I'm the problem. I make my own problems because I'm totally consumed with myself but if you point out my extreme self-problem making capabilities I'm going to argue with you. Because you are WRONG!
This quote comes from the instructions about the best way to begin to look at ourselves honestly, and for many of us this will be the first time that we've done this. I know that my stance when I began my recovery was along the lines of "This isn't going to work for me." So I didn't listen to anything you people had to say to me. I was different and I was special, very special with very difficult problems that your cute little sayings weren't going to be able to touch with a 10 foot pole, which is a pretty long pole.
My time with my friend made me reflect about how I interact with new people in The Rooms. I try to be kind and welcoming and sympathetic and all that crap but I've also spent a lot of my time talking to brick walls so I don't spend a lot of my time doing that anymore. I can tell pretty quickly when a mind is shut tight.
Fine. Do it your way. What do I know? I'm trying to find my car keys.
"So our troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. They arise out of ourselves, and the alcoholic is an extreme example of self-will run riot, though he usually doesn't think so."
This is such a de facto fact-o for me. I'm the problem. I make my own problems because I'm totally consumed with myself but if you point out my extreme self-problem making capabilities I'm going to argue with you. Because you are WRONG!
This quote comes from the instructions about the best way to begin to look at ourselves honestly, and for many of us this will be the first time that we've done this. I know that my stance when I began my recovery was along the lines of "This isn't going to work for me." So I didn't listen to anything you people had to say to me. I was different and I was special, very special with very difficult problems that your cute little sayings weren't going to be able to touch with a 10 foot pole, which is a pretty long pole.
My time with my friend made me reflect about how I interact with new people in The Rooms. I try to be kind and welcoming and sympathetic and all that crap but I've also spent a lot of my time talking to brick walls so I don't spend a lot of my time doing that anymore. I can tell pretty quickly when a mind is shut tight.
Fine. Do it your way. What do I know? I'm trying to find my car keys.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Compromise
Compromise: To find a way between extremes.
I had the opportunity to spend some time with an Earth Person the last few days. As alcoholics we can be awfully difficult but we sure don't have the market cornered on difficult. I see people who suffer from some of the same defects that plague me while not having this incredible, unbelievable, powerful support structure that I have access to. A lot of people aren't very grateful - even those blessed beyond belief; a lot of people have their minds closed to new opportunities or ways of thinking about things - they're unhappy when things don't work out as they would like; a lot of people refuse to compromise or make the best of a situation that they find less than optimal - they tally up an incredibly large list of Must Haves and No Ways and are happy or unhappy accordingly.
I've always like the idea that - if I'm lucky as hell - I'm going to get like 50% of the things that I want. If I'm lucky as hell. My life is full of compromise. My life is full of instances where I've found that every shroud has a silver lining, whatever the hell that means. I try to be grateful no matter what, to see what I can take out of every situation instead of focusing only on what I can't take out. Sometimes I even think about what I can put into a situation.
I see people get stuck in a disastrous maze of circular logic and watch as they spin around and around, trying the same solutions over and over, getting the same results again and again. While I feel sorry for their pain I also tire of their story. There is a lot of wisdom at being told to make a gratitude list or to empty some ashtrays or to talk to a newcomer, all code for "Quit your bitching and make yourself useful."
One of the greatest riddles of my life is this: Why can't I be happy when I'm thinking about myself? And why does it make me feel good to think of what I can do for others?
That's two riddles, actually.
I had the opportunity to spend some time with an Earth Person the last few days. As alcoholics we can be awfully difficult but we sure don't have the market cornered on difficult. I see people who suffer from some of the same defects that plague me while not having this incredible, unbelievable, powerful support structure that I have access to. A lot of people aren't very grateful - even those blessed beyond belief; a lot of people have their minds closed to new opportunities or ways of thinking about things - they're unhappy when things don't work out as they would like; a lot of people refuse to compromise or make the best of a situation that they find less than optimal - they tally up an incredibly large list of Must Haves and No Ways and are happy or unhappy accordingly.
I've always like the idea that - if I'm lucky as hell - I'm going to get like 50% of the things that I want. If I'm lucky as hell. My life is full of compromise. My life is full of instances where I've found that every shroud has a silver lining, whatever the hell that means. I try to be grateful no matter what, to see what I can take out of every situation instead of focusing only on what I can't take out. Sometimes I even think about what I can put into a situation.
I see people get stuck in a disastrous maze of circular logic and watch as they spin around and around, trying the same solutions over and over, getting the same results again and again. While I feel sorry for their pain I also tire of their story. There is a lot of wisdom at being told to make a gratitude list or to empty some ashtrays or to talk to a newcomer, all code for "Quit your bitching and make yourself useful."
One of the greatest riddles of my life is this: Why can't I be happy when I'm thinking about myself? And why does it make me feel good to think of what I can do for others?
That's two riddles, actually.
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