Chances were the premium at the chances store.
Called up their proprietor and asked for just one more.
Inside information suggested relocate.
When they closed the chances store, it sealed the users fate.
With no plans for the future and the future, it is here.
Who knew that the sun would rise and whisper last nights fear?
So we headed for the highway, which ended at the light.
Looked upon arrival, no chances store in sight.
Searching for the answers that will ease the fears.
Some will stand there crying and find few are buying tears.
All are someone’s baby lost along the way.
Strangers and sojourners who have lost the need to pray.
And I say, “Pray”

Dennis Mantin

The difference between A.A. and all the other self help groups is…

The self help groups suggest that you work on your character defects in order to help you quit drinking.

A.A. suggests you quit drinking to find out what your character defects are.

The heat was barely bearable…

The pipes they groaned to creak.

The misery was all sharable.

At the others I dared a peak.

The cat was on the carpet.

The kid was in her bed.

She was shifting and still wide awake.

And the other wanted fed.

I turned on the air and fan.

With snow still on the ground.

In the distance my mind went long ago.

We all faded without a sound.

My bladder kept expanding.

Proportional to the pain.

Sipping coffee while I am waiting.

Will I see a toilet again?

There are moments in this process.

Where tears are in my eyes.

If I ever thought that I was bright.

Sometimes I’m not so wise.

The bad luck raised suspicions, on a path that was beat down.

No one dared to look within or see the wise men in the town.

It was happening for eons, as long as Grandad could recall.

Like a dark foreboding plank walk or a dream in which you fall.

Until the child spoke her words that, “Maybe somethings wrong with me?”

So we made a meeting with the Doc, down at the Family Psychiatry.

The doctor raised awareness and we all took a look.

Things are looking so good now, might take Grandma off the hook.

Now life is far from perfect however the family’s not so sad.

Looking in the mirror, not blaming blind luck, good or bad.

Shame is according to people who have educated me, is the lowest of all the human emotions.

For those wishing to keep a scorecard, guilt is the second lowest and apathy is third from the bottom, just above grief.

Shame is that shit that society makes you feel for being yourself. Guilt is what you feel about doing something wrong.

That shit turned around in one afternoon with an A.A. sponsor named George. George is a crusty old bastard on the outside and one of the funniest men I’ve ever met once you get to know him.

George asked me. “Have you killed, raped or molested anyone.”

“No I have not.”

“Then maybe you are not as bad as you think you are.”

In closing that afternoon, George said…

“Remember, if we treated others with the same judgment we treat ourselves then we would have no friends. “

I thought about that quite a bit and came to this conclusion.

By putting ourselves at a higher standard than others is really the individual saying they are better than others. Which is ego. Let that shit go. Come down off the high horse!

I was successful in this and highly recommend this as an approach.

I’ve seen it in myself and I have seen it in others.

Ray Rachford was the first to point it out. Ray said to me, “You’re addicted to chaos.”

I didn’t know what he meant.

He continued, “Anyone who grew up in a chaotic home can’t deal with calm and quiet.”

I really sat down and looked at that.

He was right.

I had zero self awareness.

Step 1 in anything is awareness.

Now I knew.

If things were going to change I had to change me. I knew nothing and I was 42.

Sobering.

I thought I had forever. I just couldn’t be more wrong.

To have something move so quickly. Like; to be there and not belong.

So much seemed unimportant. Like a stranger passing through.

It all got my attention. When there was no more you.

Every second that would pass on by. Moved me further from the past.

The Madness was in holding on. Tried so hard to make it last.

But I was just a kid you know. And you were just my Mom.

And my daughter talks about you now; And she knows where you come from.

There are mysteries in living. There is life and there is pain

And there is love and given half a chance; I’d do it all again.

I grew tired of the Politics…

But at least it wasn’t war.

Between the talking and the nodding.

There was the snoozing and a snore.

I grew tired of the sports talk.

And the money for the stars.

It all seemed so damn important.

For the stool sitters at the bars.

I grew tired of the drinking.

Because of where my mind would go.

And all the chitter-chatter.

And the fires down below.

I grew tired of the dramas.

To have anyone around.

I’m a Hermit on this island.

In this Urban sprawl of sound.