At an AA meeting today. An old guy rambled on, just like he does every day. He sits close to the front so he’ll be asked to speak. I sit at the back to avoid it. But the guy next to me, after 5 minutes of complaining about being “back home” (from Mexico) says in a humph that “No-one at AA should be allowed to speak until they have at least 30 days sober. This guy has been coming here for 25 years and hasn’t gone for more than a week”.
I humph back my agreement, which is why I’m sitting way back at the Alano Club’s everyday 2PM meeting, so I won’t be seen or asked to speak. How can I? I’m going without even a day’s worth of absitence. Not yet. But I think this guy has it right. His name is Jim, a huge hand attached to an equally large body, suntanned—he shakes and say’s HELLO. After Mr. Rambler is finished rambling he gets up and say’s, “Well, this is a meeting I won’t be talking about for day’s to come!” then sticks out his hand and say’s goodbye. I join his shadow about 30 seconds later. We both leave the meeting at the half time, aka “smoke break”. Him for a smoke and easy leave of absence. Me, so that I won’t be tempted to stop off at the ol’ watering-hole for a drink before 5. Mission successful.
“Another day in paradise”, I almost said to someone later, but stopped myself, thinking, ruminating quickly; “What’s paradise for me might not be paradise for him”. Nevertheless, to me to live another day IS paradise, a gift, especially while I am still drinking. Yesterday I was screaming down the highway at ridiculous speeds (totally sober–not 5 yet!) to catch the 3:15 ferry-ride back to the mainland, back to my home and love. A stearing-wheel gripping ride back to my paradise. Indeed. Thank God, I made it, so that I can now, just as I have today, live and enjoy yet another day in it.
I swore that I would never write after drinking, but in the last few days have realized that then I might leave this paradise without being heard from again. Now, I feel that I owe it to myself and my loved ones to keep talking, regardless. At least an incenses ashes are still traces of the flame.
One Man's Journal.... 
Never heard about being 30days sober before talking. But then again I didn’t go for very long. Too busy looking for two nickels to rub together to make rent and pay off debt. The only requirement for going to AA is to have a desire to stop. Which sounds like you do. I suggest the Shaugnessy mens club on thurs nights (granville/nanton) and the granville island mens meet on sundays. All the best. Speak one time. If not at a meeting then someone who will listen.
Thanks for your input. Much appreciated. Good luck with your struggle. I’m still there too.
Tim
I’m glad you’re still with us – I’m sure your family is too. And I love your line about incense. While writing, I light up these “incense bricks” that smell sublime. I go through at least 5 a day! Hope you’re still doing well.
Thanks for your encouragement. How the heck did you find this old post of mine? It’s from 2011! Just curious. 🧐
I saw you’d liked one of my posts—I think it was my “about me” page—and I like to return the favor whenever possible. But I won’t just like/comment on any ole thing (much to the chagrin of spam-bots who seem to like/unlike posts for that very reason). I do like some posts by those who follow me or random blogs that don’t necessarily reflect my interests, just to show some love to fellow writers. But when I find someone who writes about things I especially care about, I get excited and a bit hopeful I might’ve found someone who speaks my language. I hope they can relate to some of my experiences with my dad, mostly. So I reach out!
tl;dr: you have categories on your homepage, so I clicked “alcohol” and found this post, which resonated! (I also enjoyed the idea of it being so old and knowing you’re still kicking, seeing as you liked my post this year and this one was written in 2011. That’s worth celebrating!)