In 15minutes a countdown begins

In 15 minutes I will officially be 49 years old. So unless my math serves me poorly{which it so often has } I will be begininng the 365 day count down to something to something known as {nifty fifty} or {swifty fifty} etc.etc.etc.. Well, heyI am refusing to accept delivery of anything with the slightest particle of anything that might foster or feed this ridiculous rumor that just because I am 49 in a few minutes that I am anywhere near that ominous,aching,ben gay for colone,cant see what's directly in front of me,can't hear a darn thing, misplaced my keys, shoes,briefcase, just noticed my underwear is on the outside of myfavorite three piece suit which for some reason happens to have a bib included making it a four piece suit.All of these indicators that my "really old friends" those who have somehow passed fifty and pretend it doesn't bother them like to try to reassure those of us on the cusp untilthey can snare us and trap us in the 50 + zone {much like the twilight zone}. Let's look at the facts ,Anyone who knows mewould scoff at the mere thought of me behaving like a man one year from 50. Anyone who has seen me dance knows enough to stay out of the way from this alledged 50 yr old once Rock and Roll is in the air as nodance floor is big enough for me alone let alone for the people in my way.
I certainly don't have the mature sense of humor of someone approaching half a century old{ how many old men do you know with imaginary goldfish, dancing hamsters,gerbiles andmice inhis head and that still keeps his rescue ranger suit and cape in his closet for rescue missions on any given night or day.How many 50 year olds do any of you know that are able and willing to pick up a pen,start a new story and turnanyone that pisses me of into something very unpleasantmerely becaus I possess suchpower. So while allyou other 50year olds might be losing your remote control or perhaps even your blatter control remember the new kid that will be 50 in a year intents toapproach itfull blast{aressted developenton my side } and witha vigor to dance anyone who dares me under the table {while drinking them under the table with sprite.RememberI, theKing am unstoppable. Anyone with doubts just challenge me 364 days from now and beware.

Easter Bunnies {I hear they taste like chicken}

It is Easter again and I am finding myself torn emotionally. I can remember as a kid looking forward to Easter because of the magic that seemed to be associated.Now let's set aside the religious aspect of it for a moment as I am clearly not qualified to sort out for the viewing public the correlation between the death and rebirth of Jesus and a large floppy eared rabbit{fertlity thing me thinks} skipping around however he pleases scattering brightly colored eggs {some candy, some not}while swinging a basket {usually wicker I believe} and dancing up and down trails inthe forest {or was it that the "riding hood brat" with so much free press?} handing out choclate to innocent little children who will grow up to continue running this world {damaged ozone layer, 4 million dollar a drop gasoline, reality TV shows and all}.After somehow getting passed the ridiculous belief that a large clumsy rabbit can make it to every single house, school, mall,forrest,playground etc in one night{must have santa's travel agent{seperate issue}dropping off all these goodies {some suspiciously looking as though they have been rewrapped after failing to be sold at halloween}{another seperate issue[we really won't go there!!!] The snotty, ungrateful little brats,{oops was that my outside voice ?}{I am certain I meant to say }
darling little kiddies wake up so early that your bedroom tv set is still warm from last nights Jay Leno as they jump up and down on your bed {all over your over worked tired bones and carcass that never gets enough rest } {especially you single mothers'}
So lets say these kids really are that gulible or at least pretend to be long enough to get their sugar level elevated and rip their family homes to shreds.Then what?Well when I was a child{not that long ago really} my mother would take us {myself and my less balanced siblings}to my grandparents home {usually] or to an even more dysfunctional setting like an uncle or aunt we would see so seldom that I wouldn't recognize them on any other day of the year even if a branch to our mutual family tree broke and they fell from the sky screaming their last name and landed in my morning oatmeal.Yet once we would show up and the half drunk relatives would finally put the name of each kid to the face of each kid {for at least 10 seconds anyway} then we would then fade from the sight of the adults {with permission of course}and be reunited with our long lost cousins "what's his name" and "what's her face"to go into the family room or their bedrooms and play with their toys {most always toys too expensive to be found in our own bedrooms}{no resentment happening there I assure you!!}.Usually we would play some dumb board game as the host children would cheat and make up the rules as they went along always winning and shaming us in front of the entire family as the "lower functioning cousins" or "dumb kids" {no resentment there either I assure you most of my cousins have died from drug addiction,been imprisoned or have been haunted by marriages so horibble they have spent the last several of decades in intense { and expensive I am from the states} therapy.

Ahh yes, a stroll down memory lane. I do remember trying to make Easter slightly better when my own kids were young by hiding Easter eggs and candies along a wooded trail after doing the improbable {look what the Easter bunny left for you!!] crap in our home. My wife would then bring the children along the same trail to find the eggs while on most Easters I would hide the eggs and then groan how much I wanted to go back to bed, {I have this killjoy defect of character}and with having such a bad memory I would usually get myself lost in the woods and wander of into the forrest in the wrong direction putting my wife in the position of not only having to keep track of the kids and guide them to their little chocolate treasures but she would extend the hunt to the "I think daddy is lost in the woods again" "Lets take a vote and see if majority rules is to rescue him or leave him out there a while again this year". Yes memories, memories.

The one really cool thing about Easter as a kid was that since we might might being going to one of those buildings with the pews and scary nuns in them {"church", thats the word I was groping for} we would usually get some new clothes to go along with the occasion!! Although as I got older and it was less acceptable to consider dress clothes{espcially the ones my tired mother would pick out}as a cool thing I learned that even at times when I was forced to go near the scary nun ladies, slobering relatives I barely knew, under employed actors wearing poorly fitting clumsy rabbit outfits{who do they really think they are fooling!! I mean like "Get real"!!}.The new clothes,candy, attention, and general break in the monotony of being a kid was welcome.

Now for what has me slightly torn. I am o.k. with the fact that my own kids are young adults and have long ago grown past hunting around in the living room and forest for Easter egg candies and to retrieve their forgetful aging father. And most certainly I could never bribe either one of them with an article of clothing from Sears Roebuck not even to do the smallest thing,{heck they don't even call as it is}But when I wake up Easter morning there may be a dilemia wanting for me. I still have a poorly dressed,attention starved,candy craving,at least slightly bored inner child struggling that I have been trying to come to grips with. I feel I am too old and too tired to raise another child, even if that child is me!! Yet I trudge onward.
Perhaps for next year at Easter it would be easier just to rent a damn bunny suit {buying might be the best option for a more tailored fit}run a lint brush over it{making sure the ears are properly fluffed}and head out into the world with a basket full of candy eggs, a smile, and of course a pouch full of bread crumbs to sprinkle so I can find my way back home.
If there is anyone else going through this "Mid-life might as well become a bunny " crisis thing . I would appreciate some advice.

Easter Bunnies {I hear they taste like chicken}

It is Easter again and I am finding myself torn emotionally. I can remember as a kid looking forward to Easter because of the magic that seemed to be associated.Now let's set aside the religious aspect of it for a moment as I am clearly not qualified to sort out for the viewing public the correlation between the death and rebirth of Jesus and a large floppy eared rabbit{fertlity thing me thinks} skipping around however he pleases scattering brightly colored eggs {some candy, some not}while swinging a basket {usually wicker I believe} and dancing up and down trails inthe forest {or was it that the "riding hood brat" with so much free press?} handing out choclate to innocent little children who will grow up to continue running this world {damaged ozone layer, 4 million dollar a drop gasoline, reality TV shows and all}.After somehow getting passed the ridiculous belief that a large clumsy rabbit can make it to every single house, school, mall,forrest,playground etc in one night{must have santa's travel agent{seperate issue}dropping off all these goodies {some suspiciously looking as though they have been rewrapped after failing to be sold at halloween}{another seperate issue[we really won't go there!!!] The snotty, ungrateful little brats,{oops was that my outside voice ?}{I am certain I meant to say }
darling little kiddies wake up so early that your bedroom tv set is still warm from last nights Jay Leno as they jump up and down on your bed {all over your over worked tired bones and carcass that never gets enough rest } {especially you single mothers'}
So lets say these kids really are that gulible or at least pretend to be long enough to get their sugar level elevated and rip their family homes to shreds.Then what?Well when I was a child{not that long ago really} my mother would take us {myself and my less balanced siblings}to my grandparents home {usually] or to an even more dysfunctional setting like an uncle or aunt we would see so seldom that I wouldn't recognize them on any other day of the year even if a branch to our mutual family tree broke and they fell from the sky screaming their last name and landed in my morning oatmeal.Yet once we would show up and the half drunk relatives would finally put the name of each kid to the face of each kid {for at least 10 seconds anyway} then we would then fade from the sight of the adults {with permission of course}and be reunited with our long lost cousins "what's his name" and "what's her face"to go into the family room or their bedrooms and play with their toys {most always toys too expensive to be found in our own bedrooms}{no resentment happening there I assure you!!}.Usually we would play some dumb board game as the host children would cheat and make up the rules as they went along always winning and shaming us in front of the entire family as the "lower functioning cousins" or "dumb kids" {no resentment there either I assure you most of my cousins have died from drug addiction,been imprisoned or have been haunted by marriages so horibble they have spent the last several of decades in intense { and expensive I am from the states} therapy.

Ahh yes, a stroll down memory lane. I do remember trying to make Easter slightly better when my own kids were young by hiding Easter eggs and candies along a wooded trail after doing the improbable {look what the Easter bunny left for you!!] crap in our home. My wife would then bring the children along the same trail to find the eggs while on most Easters I would hide the eggs and then groan how much I wanted to go back to bed, {I have this killjoy defect of character}and with having such a bad memory I would usually get myself lost in the woods and wander of into the forrest in the wrong direction putting my wife in the position of not only having to keep track of the kids and guide them to their little chocolate treasures but she would extend the hunt to the "I think daddy is lost in the woods again" "Lets take a vote and see if majority rules is to rescue him or leave him out there a while again this year". Yes memories, memories.

The one really cool thing about Easter as a kid was that since we might might being going to one of those buildings with the pews and scary nuns in them {"church", thats the word I was groping for} we would usually get some new clothes to go along with the occasion!! Although as I got older and it was less acceptable to consider dress clothes{espcially the ones my tired mother would pick out}as a cool thing I learned that even at times when I was forced to go near the scary nun ladies, slobering relatives I barely knew, under employed actors wearing poorly fitting clumsy rabbit outfits{who do they really think they are fooling!! I mean like "Get real"!!}.The new clothes,candy, attention, and general break in the monotony of being a kid was welcome.

Now for what has me slightly torn. I am o.k. with the fact that my own kids are young adults and have long ago grown past hunting around in the living room and forest for Easter egg candies and to retrieve their forgetful aging father. And most certainly I could never bribe either one of them with an article of clothing from Sears Roebuck not even to do the smallest thing,{heck they don't even call as it is}But when I wake up Easter morning there may be a dilemia wanting for me. I still have a poorly dressed,attention starved,candy craving,at least slightly bored inner child struggling that I have been trying to come to grips with. I feel I am too old and too tired to raise another child, even if that child is me!! Yet I trudge onward.
Perhaps for next year at Easter it would be easier just to rent a damn bunny suit {buying might be the best option for a more tailored fit}run a lint brush over it{making sure the ears are properly fluffed}and head out into the world with a basket full of candy eggs, a smile, and of course a pouch full of bread crumbs to sprinkle so I can find my way back home.
If there is anyone else going through this "Mid-life might as well become a bunny " crisis thing . I would appreciate some advice.

Spiritual Growth

I have been doing some heavy bouts of reading, writing, meditation and quiet reflection the past couple of weeks.I found some incredible articles on gratitude, happiness, strength through adversity and overcoming challenges and one powerful article on procrastination and ways to overcome it in the april edition of Pyschology Today.Researchers have actually found evidence of the ways gratitude benefits the human species in many ways including physical health. As a recovering addict I have heard many people talk about the "Gratitude list" people mention that their sponsor/counselor etc reccomended they write.The article I read also mentions such an excercise.Now I am one person who is never afraid to pick up a pen{in fact I usually have one clenched between my teeth} so I am always game to new exercises on paper.I was once told in treatment to "save my life, write" and although the man that gave me that advice passed away a few months ago I carry that suggestion with me into a some times confusing world.I have found it to be one of the most effective therapies I have ever done, and believe me I have needed some mega therapy. Even blogging has it's own benefits without doubt.

So I have begun my own gratitude list and one of the things at the top of that list is my exwife.When I hear guys whining about their ex es I usually glance to the heavens and silently smile. After twenty years as my wife and another nine years as my friend since we split she has been nothing but supportive and a source of strength.We speak quite a bit these days on MSN messenger several times a week. Today we had a very long conversation covering alot of things.One of those things is our son.He will be 19 this summer and apparantly he has been experimenting a little bit with pot.He is a normal young man, if he hadn't experimented at all he would had to residing in an igloo. As a parent and an addict who believes strongly in the theory that addiction is often an inherant disease my first reaction was to get panicy.As our keyboard conversation continued I began to realize and remember how much he has his mother's personality and traits that I so admired in my late father inlaw and my wifes brother that I watched grow from 16 to 4o. A man that is very much in our son's life.I began to feel grateful for the woman I fell in love with at first sight 30 years ago.I am grateful that I have accquired the capacity to be able to love her only as a friend today.

She was kind with her words about my personal growth over the past few years.She reminded me that the hard work I have been trying to accomplish hasn't been in vain.She has never used drugs oralcohol or smoking or other behaviors so ingrained in my own family. And over all those years in my addiction with the lies, deceptions,guilt games, denial, suicide attempts,blaming etc all she ever wanted me to do was get help.And when she finally had enough of my continuing crises she took our children and left.Six months later I listened to a voice on a telephone convince me not to kill myself but to choose treatment,trust the twelve steps, God,& strangers. I forget sometimes how truly lost I was without her those first few months. I am grateful that I can admit to her now all those things she was right about over the years that I denied feverishly.Taking just one it would be my level of self-pity I had for so long. I was saturated in it. And one of the most positive things I have learned from my sponsor is that to counteract my defect of self-pity all I have to do is find something tobe grateful for.It is impossible for me to feel sorry for myself and be grateful at the same time.

Today I am grateful for many things ,but if your out there watching honey{I still call her honey probably always will}I want you to know your at the top of my list and probably always will be.

Thirty years ago when I was 19 and you were 20 neither of us could have ever possibly could have guessed where we would be today. Well tomorrow is your 50th birthday and it seems somehow hard for me to think of you as anything other than that pretty girl with the awesome green eyes that was too shy to speak. You have done a phenomenal job raising the kids and putting your life in order inspite of my decades of bad influence.
We have both grown our own live's it seems seldom intersecting for more than a few paragraphs.

So April I wanted to do something for your birthday.Your a wonderful incredible lady, one of my most trusted of friends and I treasure you dearly.The man in your life now is a very lucky man. And I am very happy for you both.And I am grateful that you are happy too.

If you can still love me as a friend after all that stuff over the years. I can't be that bad a guy and perhaps if I keep growing spiritually I can use the lessons I learned from you,that have shaped me and be a worthy partner to someone else when it is time.

Happy 50th birthday honey,your not getting older, your getting sweeter. Love Andrew

Out of reach.

For the past two years I have had intense feelings for a lady friend who for reasons far too complex to discuss here has remained outside my reach. We have discussed everything and I mean everything under the sun and shared the non sexual/physical /man /woman/ stuff. The level of intamicy has been extensive. We agreed to see eachother for coffee at a local coffee shop yesterday as we had not been able to hook up for quite sometime. I watched as she chatted away and we tossed things back and forth. I sat back saying nothing for quite awhile and watched her tiny green eyes dance and smile in the sunlight as her beautiful features and generous smile beamed. She heard my thoughts as I spoke them unknowingly when I let the words slip that I had forgoting just how beautiful she really is in the short time that has past each with our own lives. As the words slipped passed my lips she froze slightly as though to catch a hesitant punch line or wisecrack that never came.For one thousanth of a second she paused and I could see her little girl bashfullness glowing unmistakingly. A grown woman that has survived unspeakable tragedies throughout her entire life sheltering and protecting that little girl.Then she replied in sarcastic tone "oh you just want to have sex with me". She seemed to know in a split second that her reply cut to my core. We know each other very well having spent scores of hours conversing on the telephone and one on one.Even though she was of course right, it seemed like such a small part of what I was thinking and feeling. The connection, the chemistry, the secrets ,that we have shared with each other promising to never repeat to another human being.

The wee hours of last night that I could not sleep and chose instead to write are now the next sunrise as a small stack of pages I labored on steadily move towards a first draft.As I make my way out the door for work and the day that awaits me however I choose to spend it. I think of the glow of that precious little girl flickering in a woman I have been wanting for two years.The comment she spat at me still stings in my ears and heart.I feel slightly dirty and slightly transparent.I feel as though we have both been cheated even though I am the only one that knows it. An instant of magic tainted by the talk of barnyard behavior.

If only she could love me,the way that I could love her. God is doing what is right for all of us, I am certain of it.....

Sunday April 2nd 2006 I've been out of touch.

For the past few weeks in particular I have been spending alot of time in quiet reflection. There have been many periods through out my life when I have withdrawn from the world around me.In the back half of my life Iam still trying to learn {or find} that perfect balance between a healthy privacy and an unhealthy isolation.Iam learning that going to my apartment with one single thought,mood,frame of mind or grudge and then sitting in grey silence running the same series of thoughts or conversations in my head with people that aren't there isn't meditation. It is called obsessing. Now many of you probably have known this for quite sometime I am challenged in many areas such as this.
It has been a good weekend for me. It has been productive,by accomplishing some goals in my service work with the 12 step program I owe my life to.I have a plan for next week in my occupational life. I went to a 12 step fellowship dance on sat night and danced with the prettiest girl there {in my eyes} almost all night long. Not a stranger, a friend I have never spent time with before. We danced and we sweat and we sang the music was mostly classic rock and roll{my favorite} . The dance even ended on my all time end of the night song I have been singing for years at the end of work , play, recovery meetings a song called "Stay" by Jackson Browne. After a long afternoon todaywith a service committee I returned to another dance floor I have missed a great deal at our street church. I danced again with more friends. Friends that I love a great deal and that I have missed more than I realized.
This evening I sat down briefly between dances while sweating,muscles flexing,heart racing.And I thought of a gentleman younger than myself that was laid to rest this weekend. This man was a counseler at a treatment center nearby here I attended years ago. In this Area his name is known well and the constant tide of men with addiction problems coming in and going out is a rockier place than it was this time last week. I chose not to attend the services yesterday as reflowing old grief and adding more sadness and bringing it home in my head and my heart to my tiny apartment and spending ours upon hours of "quiet reflection" isn't always the wisest choice for Andrew to make.For these are the times I want to ask God if he is paying close attention.A man such as this dedicating his lifes work to helping men like myself and himself recover from drug addiction dying suddenly without warning.While sitting and sweating I felt my heart beating and reminded myself that I am just as powerless. There are so many things that simply don't seem fair. I know I am not alone in my anger, sadness, confusion feelings of violation and vulnerability. Why are other's spared and him taken? There is no earth bound answer that will satisfy me. Why does my heart beat and his no longer?Sometimes it seems is that there is no answer.
For Steve Mc thankyou for the lessons you taught me in treatment and since. And thankyou most of all for reminding me to appreciate today.

Jan 10th 2006 "The clouds cry with dark fury."

It has been several months since I last blogged.Much has happened,the ending of an old year,the begininng of a new year and alot, I mean alot of feelings in the past few month's.The death of the wife of a man who has been like a brother to me the last thirty years.Her death was so sudden and so unforseen, their two boys in their early teens, and their father the man I came to Canada with in1972 have had a huge hole blown in their lives that will never be filled the way it was again.A fewmonths' have passed and Ihave stayed in contact. All I can do at this point is tobe there for him and the boys should they think I can be of help.She has and always will have a place in my heart.

Changes in my own life have been positive/productive/promising/Yet I am cautious about trying to controling outcomes or settingtoo high of expectations for these things have brought me dissapointments in the past. It is a somewhat stressful week for me. On Jan 1stI celebrated my 3 year clean date inthe twelve step fellowship I finally found abetter way to live after decades of struggling to get past the denial and admit Iam an addict.

My three year celebration will be held here inMission on Friday the 13th{seemed fitting} at a well known
facility at 4th and james.It is an open meeting and all members of the community are welcome if not encouragedto come.It runs between 700pm-800pm.Cake meeting are a beautiful way to witness our fellowship and it's members at their finest.The love,empaty,care,acceptance,Unity,experience,strength. and hope,Can be at some times so powerfulthat people leave there feeling overwhelmed at what they
,Love Andrewwitnessed ,there, felt there,and experienced there. I need to signoff now

Wow !!! New socks!!!!!

I don't want to come off like Andy Rooney {primarily because the guy always got on my nerves}
But am I the only person in the world that puts off buying socks until my entire sock drawer is full of holy socks and it's 5:00am and I am sort of negotiating with the socks that come out of the drawer? I can justify wearing 2 pairs because now it's cold out but the real reason I am doing it is so that I can cover the hole in this pair by wear the other pair with a hole in it over top where the 2nd pair has a hole in a different place in it.I know this should probably be in a 5th step {the confession step}with a Monk who doesn't speak English and is on his second to last breath, but hey at 48 1/2 I get to do what I want .So last weekend I went out and bought myself an entire new collection of brand new socks. No more morning time frustration with my big toe ripping right through it's intended home for the day!! I did however find it hard to just throw the stack of socks holes and away in a carefree manner.Some with the smaller holes I threw in a huge trunk that I keep my work clothes in.Paintshop clothes are an ugly animal and although semi retired I have hung on to a good collection of work clothes.

Now if there is actually anyone out there reading this crap you are probably wondering why this clown is writing about his garbage socks that house his ugly feet. And moreso why am I {you} reading it.Allow me to explain.I think there are little personality traits in my life I am trying to reshape to become the person in the horizon that Andrew would like to be. More caring, more loving, more feeling, alot of the touchy feely stuff even though I sometimes deny it.I believe that I am becoming a worth while person. I am raising my personal standards in many areas of my life. I do alot of work in the 12 step program I call home and hey,I am worth new socks,if that is what I want.If I have gone through life denying something as simple and basic as new socks,what other areas of my life am I limiting myself??

The socks are just a metaphor for so many other things in my life I deserve. As long as I am willing to do all I can for the world around me.Now I have been doing some studying on personal achievment, and positive self concept.Now as far as self affirmations go I would feel really strange standing in front of a mirror looking at myself repeating over and over,"you are worth new socks" "you are worth new socks"over and over and over. How about walks on the perfect day, music {I love music}. I recently purchased new {new to me}furniture for my apartment. I am collecting artwork with a particular theme to it. I am learning to cook new things{primarily unsuccessfully} but I am still trying. Someday God willing, I will learn to play the piano.Even if it is just a little{the theme from Hill Street Blues, "We've got tonight " by Bob Seger The acoustic version of "Thunder Road".I dream someday of having a wood panel den and my own music room with piano,drums, and bass guitar. My den would be my refuge for wordplay and stories about dragons and demons that I'd create and mystically tame or slay. We should never surrender our dreams.

At 48 1/2 or 148 1/2 we should never surrender our dreams.Before I step out into the world tomorrow I will put on my new socksand then of course my shoes. Then I will part the door slightly, and head to whatever awaits me looking for small gifts that I unknowingly deny to myself or others.

What is the condition of your spiritual and personal sock drawer?? Are there warm ,clean,fluffy friends to help guide you along your spiritual path? Will your steps be quick and light or will there be that annoying feeling of bare skin pressing against your soul? Is there something that you deserve that you have been denying yourself?

Before you head off into the world tomorrow, ask yourself, is it time for new socks??