The dysfunctional family mid summer cook out. I show up with my diversion, the BBQ ribs. It's been 30 odd years sober for me and still anyone who was alive in my drinking days doesn't really trust me. They go along with a joint skepticism, assuming even now that at any time, anything could happen to derail the days events. I know this and use it to prove them wrong. I'm kind considerate modest and self sacrificing like the Book says. All things to all people.
The young ones do their best with handed down mixed messages of drunkenness and cruelty, all before the invention of the cell phone so it's safe now apparently.. At best the general consensus is I'm weird but weird is the new fun so, I'm in.. Ripping into an ear of corn like an electric typewriter, poking fun at gramma's dollar store flip flops purchased on a wild shopping spree. I'm surviving here, my stage is set. My script demands a curtain call of goodbyes, smiles, hugs and handshakes. Last minute validation. Did I do ok? Did everyone like me? Ok. I can go. Thank God that's over..
I don't really need a meeting but I'm bored. Lonely really. It's lonely at the top. Left to worship people for my validation. The old familiar like me so I can like myself self seeking behavior. The meeting is the only place I can roll up on my Hog and demand attention. An emotional security boost. Then came Bronson.. Me, the once homeless bum, now sober man with his beautiful motorcycle. A 12 Step hybrid of sorts, a power of example and an example of power as if all things to all people at all times. In this case? The AA meeting..
Although I don't smoke I settle in staking claim to the warn patch of grass known as the smoking area. My stage is set shucking and jiving around the butt can, jockeying for position with the homies from my Thursday night group. Running my mouth, picking interesting topic after topic. Shocking really. I am demanding attention as my experience sober spills over the top. All eyes and ears on me. I'm working the crowd. I even stop abruptly and pick up a butt that missed it's mark. Tossing it in the can I am paving the way to proper butt can etiquette....