Horseface Steve Has Got to GO

Stop: A stopping or being stopped; check; arrest; cessation; halt.
Go:    To move along; travel; proceed: as this car can go 90 miles per hour.


I really like that Mr. Webster chose 90 miles per hour as the appropriate speed for a car.  That guy must have been a drunk.  90 for god's sake?  Who goes 90 miles an hour in their car and where do they do it?  Why wouldn't he use 25 miles per hour in his example?  Something to ponder.   I also like the fact that "travel" is in the definition.  I like to travel so I appreciate anybody who promotes it.


Anyway, I have been pondering the huge size of my GO button again.   I'm all about the GO, and it's not always good GO, either.  I have a little too much 90 miles per hour in my GO.  I don't always consider walls and cliffs and pedestrians when I start to GO.  I GET to a lot of places but I'm not always sure I want to be where I end up being.


SuperK and I have come to an understanding about our forward progress as a couple.  I'm the GO button and she's more of the STOP button, and I don't mean that in a bad way for either of us.  She does a lot of GOING but generally chooses not to do any of the stupid GOING that I do.  I'm grateful that she has the good sense and wisdom to tell me to STOP sometimes, and I think she enjoys some of my eagerness to git along down the road.  We do a lot of stuff that she probably wouldn't end up doing, and we don't do a lot of stupid stuff that I'd get us into.

Horseface Steve Says: "It's ALL About Me!"

Interest:  A feeling of intentness, concern, or curiosity about something.


I'm not really interested in anybody else.  I'm still trying to work up some interest in other people but it's going to be a long slog.  On the other hand, I'm VERY interested in myself.  I often pretend that I'm interested in you but I'm lying, mostly, to be honest about it, which is another one of my more attractive character defects.  Lying about being interested in you.  I've very talented -- I often combine multiple character defects into one or more sets of actions.  I get a lot of bang for my buck in the defect department.  I'm clearly a hell of a guy.  


I heard a guy share once about his relationship with his wife and how it was improving as he changed his behavior.  He said that when his wife came into the room and had something to say, he turned off the TV and really tried to pay attention.  This was hard for him because he really didn't find the things she was saying all that interesting.  He found that as he pretended to be interested he really did become interested.  This can be classified in the old Program category of "Fake it 'till you make it."  This is similar to my experience of doing nice things for other people because I was told to be nice by my sponsor, not because I wanted to be nice, and finding that I started to generate enthusiasm for someone besides myself.  I acted my way into good thinking as opposed to trying to think my way into good action.


When SuperK says that I'm not listening, I can usually regurgitate the basic jist of what she has said, kind of, more or less, with a bunch of large, glaring mistakes.  I used to think I could watch some college basketball game that I didn't give a hoot about while she talked.  I think that people typing away on Smarter Than You phones during meetings are committing the same mistake.  Why don't we each bring our newspapers and small personal TVs to meetings, too?  The point is that this behavior is rude and it's selfish.  It marginalizes other people.  You might as well say: "This TV program is more important than you are," even when someone may be sharing something personal and painful.  You're probably offended at the thought of making such a comment, even though it's probably closer to the truth than anything else you might do.


Wichita State vs. Tulsa?  I mean, are you kidding me?

Gotta go, gotta go

I'm a big brother.  When my sister and I were kids our parents took us on the occasional picnic at a hilly park near our home.  One of my favorite party tricks was to take off running down any convenient grade, hoping that she would follow me.  I loved watching her coming down faster and faster, her little legs unable to keep up with her little body.  Eventually, inevitably, she'd tumble head over heals to my great amusement.  I don't remember whether or not she cried but I'm assuming she did.  I proclaimed my innocence with great vehemence, I'm sure.  It's what big brothers do: act like pricks then disavow our part in any minor tragedy.

I feel like I'm my sister running down a hill most of the time.  I'm moving way too fast chasing something of dubious value to get someplace that may or may not be worth getting to.  I'm barely in control and picking up speed.  I usually crash then scream like hell at the unfairness of it all.

See you later: I gotta go, I gotta go.

Horseface Steve: Cathartic

Catharsis: In psychology, the alleviation of fears, problems, and complexes by bringing them to consciousness and giving them expression.


"The notion that there's some right choice for every life challenge fits neatly into the control-freak mind-set of our current moment.  We've developed a real talent for transforming neutral or negative events into triumphant rites of passage.  We suffer under the relentless conviction that even the most unpredictable, unmanageable problems can be stuffed into the familiar packaging of catharsis.  Rather than acknowledging residual pain or lingering trauma, we're urged to embrace each story as a wake-up call or a breakthrough on the road to self-fulfillment."


I read that recently.  I really liked it.  It really seemed to apply to me and my approach to life.  I also really like the Buddhist, spiritual, AA way of looking at suffering as something that should be pondered thoughtfully but not accorded the status of obsession.  It's a thing.  It's a thing we're all subjected to so we might as well get over it.  It's not awful, it's not a breakthrough or a catharsis or something to be ignored; it's something or the other.  Look at it but don't linger.  It's not the end of the world but it's there nonetheless.

Blood Red Sky

Blood:   Parental heritage; family line; lineage; passion, temperament, or disposition.

Bad blood and blood baths committed in cold blood make my blood run cold.  Not me.  I'm not going to have blood on my hands.  They say that blood is thicker than water but I wonder if this is literal or just an expression.  It seems a little thicker when it comes out of my body but I usually pass out so quickly I can't be sure.  The word "blood" starts to look weird if you write it a whole bunch of times.  

Anyway, the point is that family matters are generally not going to go away.  Many of us have great families or good ones at least -- average people making their way as best as they can.  Some of us have crappy families, ill suited to handle the ups and downs of life.  And there are some real nightmare cases out there that make our blood run cold: alcoholism and abuse and addiction.  Mostly, our families are like us: folks with no operating manual trying to lurch forward.   God knows I was no piece of cake when I was active and I don't mean to imply I'm a piece of cake today, either.  Maybe a cupcake or an iced cookie, but definitely not a piece of cake.

If someone treated me like I treat myself I would toss this guy out of a moving car, over a tall cliff. I'm horrible to myself more often that I care to admit.  I wouldn't put up with it coming from another person.  And my family doesn't always treat me all that well, either, and I have a pretty good family. I think all of us take some liberties with our closest relationships and all of us are going to make mistakes from time to time with people who are around us so much.  If someone I've recently met treats me like crap, I move on.  Not an option with family, or a much more difficult decision to make.

Here's what often comes out when one of the Horsefaces is having family problems: "You're the one with the program."  

Some days I don't want to have a program.  Some days I just want to load up and let 'er rip, burn some bridges, devastate some crops.

Psych Ward Fever

I have started to attend an institution meeting here in the New City.  I have a group of men that I talk to on the phone regularly from the Old City, and one of my guys is Institution Man.  This is a big part of his program and he brings it up often when we talk.  And by "often" I mean "every time."


"You know, Horseface," he sez, sez he, "They have institution meetings in the New City, too."


He's right, irritatingly enough, so I got hooked up with a friend who is trying to promote a regular meeting at a local hospital's psych ward.  I went a couple of times with him and committed to a regular slot.  The third time he wasn't feeling well and asked me to lead the meeting so that he could go home and go to bed.  The meeting was, naturally, a little messy.  There were a couple of people in attendance who may or may not have been alcoholic, but who appeared to be clearly suffering from mental illness.  They were disruptive, god love 'em, so I had to interrupt them as they rambled, trying to be kind and welcoming but still mindful that we're trying to have a meeting and there are some general housekeeping rules.  The meetings are for everyone.  We need controlled chaos at least.


There were a couple of newish outsiders that came with me.  As we were waiting for the elevator -- this being a psych ward, someone had to use a key to unlock the door, then unlock the elevator, too -- I said: "It's not always pretty is it?"  Not being able to leave someplace voluntarily is always a shock to the system as well.  It's a bit of a high realizing that once we leave we get to do what we want to do.  Not so if you're locked up or tied down.


It's helpful for me to do this.  Part of it is giving back some of which was so freely given me.  And some of it is seeing the down and dirty, nitty gritty of alcoholism.  We don't have the benefit of the 12 Step call to someone dying of the disease that was so common many years ago.  I have to remember that untreated alcoholism leads to jail, insanity, or death.

Heaven and Hell

Heaven:  Any place of great beauty and pleasure; a state of great happiness.
Hell:       Any place or condition of evil, pain, misery, cruelty, etc.


I like the "etc." in the definition of Hell.  Etc?  Etc?  Evil, pain, misery, and cruelty aren't enough?  We have to heap some more crap on top of that?  Yowser.  That's one bad place.  That's one place to be avoided.


I'm going to steer my boat toward heaven.  I spend far too much time trying to escape the licking flames of hell fire.  Some of this is the religion I grew up in.  There was a lot of talk about what a lousy place hell would be to spend all eternity, delivered by confident, stern adults to impressionable children.  It sounds like a lousy place to get stuck for a couple of minutes let alone for a period of time with no beginning and no end.  Apparently, it's easier to fill the church pews with dire warnings than to paint pretty pictures.  I had a pretty good life.  I wasn't tempted by angels playing harps on fluffy clouds, but those burning hot pokers in the capable hands of all of those demons sure got my attention.


I went back to church a few times, mostly to please my religious mother.  I was surprised to find it to be a benign place.  The talks were, I found, largely positive.  I didn't see to much that was threatening or dark.  I have always been drawn to What Is Wrong.  I see blackness before I see light.  You can shine an arc light into my eyes and I won't notice it.


Talk about applying a filter to something.


I still don't go to church, though.  No fucking way.  I did my stint in there.