Sunday, January 29, 2006

I feel...I don't know...

I am taking 3 classes this semester. 2 of the classes are private tutorials, which means it's just me and the prof. All well and good, but unless I get off my ass and start writing papers I will be officially behind in my work. The third class meets tomorrow and there are about 10 of us in what is referred to as a "study group". There will be more papers to write for that class, so I better get a move on down here.

I am feeling distracted, I think. Which is OK, because at least I'm not drinking about it.

To be honest I have started some of the work: I know what I am going to write about for philosophy (Compare Descartes and Locke on the subject of Knowledge [10 pages]) and my Lit class (Sex, Gender, and Power in "The Color Purple" and "Thousand Cranes"[another 10 pages]) and I have read all the material needed for my Meso-American Culture class. All I have to do is put the puzzle pieces together. I'll set a deadline for both papers...February 15th. That gives me just over 2 weeks to jam this stuff out and make it all look good.

That's it. That's all that's on my mind. Well not really, there's a lot more, but I'm not telling!


Johnnyboy

Friday, January 27, 2006

I don't like Oprah...Never did...

Yep, it's true. I do not like her. For all the wonderful things that she has done for women, the GLBT community, people of color, or all three combined, she rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's because I think she's in it for the money. Maybe because I think she's the New Media version of Eva Peron. Maybe I just don't like how she treats writers, who after taking bad advice from their publishers and who continued to do so against their best judgment, come on her show to try and come clean and get yelled at on national TV.

You all know what I'm talking about. Yes, "A Million Little Pieces", and its author, James Frey.

In the beginning Frey sold his book to Random House as fiction, a novel, as in, "not all true". Like any good fiction it is based on fact. The word came down from his publisher that, 'Hey, this is about you, right? So why not call it 'non-fiction' and we'll sell it as a memoir."

This is all about money. Fiction does not sell these days, and it rarely has. Trust me, I come from a long line of fiction writers and poets who, if you knew my last name, you might (or might not) recognize.

Non-fiction does not stay on the shelves. I heard an interesting quote from another publisher the other day and it added up to the fact that if Frey (Random House) had sold his book under 'fiction' he would have had maybe a 10th of the sales. Fewer sales, less money. Who gets the money?

Not the author. Most authors are paid in advance of their work. After which the publisher takes that advance back following sales. If sales exceed the advance, then the author starts earning usually 12% of the remainder. These are called royalties. They aren't much, unless there's a movie deal.

So even if Frey made a lot of change from an already written manuscript, he did not make much from the follow-up sequel. Random House made the money, and they still have the money, no matter how ashamed Oprah makes Frey feel on the telly.

I just checked with Amazon. Frey's book is still listed as part of Oprah's Book Club. Hmmm...Does Oprah make any dough from this situation?

As I recall there is a quote that says "The only bad press is no press". Well, there is certainly enough press about this guy now. I hear the tippy-tapping of keys right now as he writes his third, and even more shocking, book.

Don't forget that 'scandal' sells even better than non-fiction.

You might ask yourself (or maybe not) "As a recovering alcoholic, how does Johnnyboy actually feel about this situation?"


Johnnyboy doesn't give a flying fuck.


Johnnyboy

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

New Haiku, movie reviews, and creeping ennui...

Last night in the middle of a meeting I began to feel dizzy and nauseated. I was light-headed and feeling the world move with that sea-sickness kind of drift as I turned my head, moved a book, etc...I really hate that feeling. Oddly enough that is the same physical feeling of being drunk, and I didn't mind that when I was drinking. Now it is just another way to feel out-of-control in a stable world. So after the meeting I went home and went right to bed. It was 9PM. It felt so good to be enclosed in cool sheets, covered by warm blankets, and feeling the sensation of blood flowing horizontally through my legs. I slept until 11AM this morning, waking up and feeling slightly groggy. I have a slight headache now, but the spins seem to have gone away.

With all that I have been through in the past 5 years I can point to PTSD as a reason. I am trying desperately to reclaim some kind of life from what I have left. As an ex-felon, much of the world is closed to me. I will never make the big bucks in a high-end job. My political future is sunk (damn!). Many doors are closed to me. It seems sometimes that the only thing I have left is a certain financial security from my family and the ability to put words on paper. I could do worse than pursuing that avenue. So I am going back to school to learn the things I missed out on in college. I had to cancel a meeting this morning with a teacher, and I hope he forgives me. I called last night before I swam into bed and made my apologies. I need to speak with him, though, and discuss an idea for a paper in his class. I hope to meet with him next Monday.
So this creeping ennui, or malaise, is something I'm dealing with today. I will do what I need to do to fulfill my end of the bargain I have made with my hopes and dreams.

I have read a few short stories from 3 different books for one class. I will read some philosophy from the textbook for another. I will practice my new moves with this old life, trying to remember that I cannot start over again, only continue from where I think I have left off. It's like arriving back at the main road after taking a wrong turn in the dark and foggy night. It's a relief to be on the highway, yes, but at times the scenery isn't as vibrant as that wrong turn, full of pitfalls, narrow escapes, and hairpin turns on twisting mountain roads. Living on the edge seems to be fun at times but the safety and security of a well-lit path holds its own charms as well. Today only thinks it's boring.

I finally went to see "Capote" the other day. Amazing film. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Truman Capote with an ability that made me remember what an 'actor' is supposed to do. It is not good enough to portray a fictional character wherein the actor can infuse his own characteristics upon him. An actor should be able to mimic an actual person from history, making the viewer forget he is watching a a staged production. Stunning work. Go see it, quick!

So I have seen all the films up for 'Best Picture' and, I must admit, they all deserve the award. I am so pleased that this year there was no crap like "Titanic" to squeeze out the quality work. All the films are great, they should all win, but if "Capote" doesn't win, well...something is rotten in Denmark.

So in light of reclaiming my future, here are 3 new haiku. I stop publishing those old 'jail' haiku in an attempt to remind myself to live in the present and hope for the future.

#1.
Light snow falling slow
no wind to blow it away
a crow calls loudly.

#2.
Rain falls on the roof
snow melting in winter fields
gray trees and gray sounds.

#3.
The years weigh heavy
experiences unsought
taken on by fate.


Johnnyboy

Sunday, January 22, 2006

I'm not a cop, only a sober drunk...

Thank you all for your sage advice in the previous sponsoring dilemma. I made some calls last night and spoke to my sponsor this morning and the upshot is this: It is not my job to enforce the rules of the house where he lives, nor to make decisions that should be made by his doctor and him. My only job is to make sure that he has access to AA meetings and is able to meet other AA members. If there are medical reasons linked to his psyche meds for his not drinking coffee, not smoking, etc...then those issues need to be addressed by his attending physician, not me. I'm not even going to get involved with his host family on any level anymore, beyond picking him up. My sponsor reminded me to even let this go until something comes up wherein it needs to be addressed.

What a relief. Once again I am reminded that I cannot save the world, and even in saving myself I need lots of help.

I'm going to read some schoolwork this morning, hit the showers around noon and then go to the movies. "Capote" has come back around to the local cinema, and, as I missed it the first time, I'll grab a seat this time and enjoy a sober day with some popcorn. The review will follow...


Johnnyboy

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Can you say "out of control"?

My lunch with my sponsee went pretty well. I stressed how I was not going to enable his smoking anymore. He took it all in, agreed, and we had a decent time. We then went to the coffeeshop up the street and he bought me a chai. He had a large coffee with lots of milk and sugar. Of course it didn't really cross my mind that he wasn't allowed to have coffee because of his meds. So I have enabled him yet again.

Tonight at the meeting I spoke to his 'host' and she told me about his coffee drinking, his smoking, and his lying. She is very worried about him, because without the mental health program that he is currently involved with he would go to a state-run group home with constant monitoring. There he would not have caffeine, nicotine, or sugar, all chemicals that he consumes as if they were (and they are!) drugs. It is safe to say that he will always be under the watchful eye of the state in one form or another. He cannot live without it.

I am worried for myself now. It's as if I have suddenly acquired much more than a drunk trying to stay sober. I am dealing with a drunk trying to get sober who is also schizophrenic and is on a thrice-daily cocktail of massive amounts of anti-psychotics to keep him stable. He lies and sneaks to get his coffee, sneaks around to get cigarettes, and is not trusted to stay by himself, alone, in the house where he lives. His host is worried that something may happen to him and she will get the blame. What about me? I'm the one driving him around to meetings! Am I now supposed to be his babysitter and medical orderly as well? I feel this situation spiraling out-of-control. I do not want to be involved with this anymore.

This goes against everything I have been taught in AA so far, but does it? I know that I must carry the message, not the drunk. I know that I cannot "cure" anyone. I also know that I am not even a mental health amateur, let alone an expert. I can see myself becoming so involved with this situation that it takes on legal proportions and I become stuck in the middle. I can see it ruining my life and effecting the lives of my family members.

I need some real advice and I need it now. I'll be speaking with my sponsor tomorrow, and, I hope, with my therapist on Monday. I will also be picking the brains of other drunks and asking their advice. This sounds fucked-up, but I'm really glad he doesn't know where I live...

Johnnyboy

A problem shared...

I went to my usual Step meeting last night and received the answers I need to my problems at hand. I also spent most of the day with my sponsor, which was great, considering he assigned me some new spiritual tasks to further my growth.

Of course, I don't want to do anything he told me to do. That would be a positive change for me. The first was to get more exercise. He wants me to try some cardio-aerobic activity every day. Walking for 35-45 minutes is fine, he says. I don't need to go to the gym or anything. The problem is that I'm lazy and the weather sucks. Neither of these are 'reasons' to not get out there and move my ass around for a few minutes each day.

The second task is to not only take the spiritual baby-steps of AA, but to reach out to the spiritual community in the real world. He reminded me that he was not telling me to join a cult, but rather to investigate other avenues of spiritual growth. Both of these tasks will help me in beginning to make amends to myself over the past and break out of much of my isolation and loneliness (did I say that? Am I really lonely...?).

So I'll start the reaching-out with either the Quakers or the Unitarians. I couldn't find the Quakers listed in the yellow pages under 'Churches', so I'll ask around. There is also a pretty big Buddhist community around where I live, so I also have that option. All of this will help me to forgive myself, which, in turn, will help me to get over the people-pleasing need/fear of worrying about what other people are thinking/saying about me. I hope.

The exercise I'll start this afternoon, rain or shine, after I come home from lunch with my sponsee. This brings me to my next subject: Lying.


My sponsee (let's call him Bob) has many mental health issues on top of his alcoholism. He has a long history of psychiatric incarceration, homelessness, and dysfunction. To say that he may be scared living in the real world is to be light about the subject. As his sponsor I treat what he says to me with strict confidence. His host-family, on the other hand is something else. This household is very sober, and accustomed to having people like him live with them. They currently have 2 other boarders under their roof. Everyone is on medication of some sort. The stories I hear from Bob are not the same as the updates I receive from his host. His is a tale of misunderstanding, bitchiness, and cruelty. Theirs is a story of his stealing his meds, lack of hygiene, and lying, especially about his smoking. He is supposed to quit smoking as part of his out-patient program with the state. I caught him a few days ago talking about "sneaking a cigarette so 'she' wouldn't know". I put the kabosh on that kind of stealth activity, seeing it as just another way to lie, cheat, and steal, his way through life. It now turns out that he is also wearing 'the patch'. I had asked him a few weeks ago if he was, and he said "no", so I didn't think about it. Now I learn that he is, and still smoking. I even gave him a cigarette the other night! His host 'mother' also found a pack of smokes in his jacket last week. Yet he continues to lie.

So he lies to me. This is fear, I know it. Because I've been there.

We are having lunch together in a couple of hours where I will address this lying of his. If we are to maintain an honest program he must know that he doesn't need to lie to me. The truth will not have him thrown out of my car, sponsorship, etc...

I wonder if he knows that he is lying, or even cares? Maybe the fiction in his mind is the truth that he sees and lives. He is a tough soul, and has been through a lot. This character defect is probably one of the strongest weapons he had out there on the street. It will be difficult and sticky to de-fuse.

So I'm off to the showers, and then out to lunch. I'll update this saga tomorrow.


Johnnyboy

Thursday, January 19, 2006

An inner struggle continues...

Over the past year-and-a-half I have been regular in my AA meeting attendance. I tend to go to meetings at night, leaving my days free for school and other activities. The meetings that I attend are regular and predictable. My homegroup is strong and representative of many walks of life and both genders. I feel confidant in my sobriety when I am there. I leave that meeting feeling refreshed and new, with a positive, forward thinking attitude towards my sobriety and the future. There is a Step Meeting that I regularly attend on Friday night which has been instrumental in my sobriety. That meeting also has a Sunday night speaker/discussion meeting that I enjoy. Unfortunately there is one AA group which, 7 times out of 10, leaves me cold, confused, and feeling as if I have been watched, judged, and found wanting. It is a very 'cliquey' group and not the friendliest bunch in the land.

I have just returned home from that meeting with those same feelings. I have battled for a long time concerning my feelings and my safety in that meeting. I guess that's the upshot--I don't feel safe there. I feel as if people are quick to judge, and I also believe that certain people gossip about me and my pre-sobriety past behind my back, spreading untruths and rumor. I find that kind of behavior disgusting and extremely un-sober.

I do not feel that way at the other meetings I attend, so I know it's not just my nutty mind playing tricks on me. Unfortunately there are some people there who I do like, trust, and get along with. But, as they say, one bad apple can spoil the whole barrel.

The nights I attend this group are Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. I can change Thursday to a Big Book Step meeting nearby that I enjoy and reap a benefit from. The Tuesday night I can figure out somehow. I'll check the schedules. The Saturday night meeting I'll keep because it's a big group and those same people that irk me tend not to go that night.

I know that I'm in this for my sobriety. I know that what other people think about me is none of my business. I know that I should turn it over and rise above the pettiness of others thinking, but I must make a physical change in my life to help this process out. "Move a muscle, change a thought" as a wise man once said to me. So I will.

This is not a new thing. I have posted about this issue before, and recently. It's time for me to quit whining and make a decision.


Johnnyboy

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Wednesday deluge and Tuesday's haiku...

It's raining to beat the band. The wind last night sang and moaned in the telephone lines and howled in the chimneys. At times it reminded me of arcane Japanese flutes being played in a bamboo forest. I woke up this morning to a heavy sky and high winds. It seems as if global warming is working its magic. I remember reading somewhere once that the Northeast US will assume the weather patterns that we see more prominently in the Northwest, i.e. Seattle, Vancouver, etc...From the looks of this winter the predictions are correct. Thankfully my home is on high ground and there are already existing waterways around the house to carry the deluge downstream.

My own mental deluge continues, however. I calculated my future in terms of school credits, and, if I can stay in school full time (12 credits, or 3 classes) I will have achieved my B.A. in a little over 3 years. That "if" is the chance. Of course I was projecting the future, which never looks good, but I would like to stay on course if possible. It's not the money I worry about, it's the time that seems so elusive. That is the nature of time, though. It is purely relative and a figment of our imaginations. Many scholars believe that time does not exist at all and that the only reality is what is here, right now. So if I stay in the moment, live for today, and have gratitude for the present, I'm OK. So why do I project? It's as if I want to find a certainty and an unwritten schedule of my future. I want to know that everything will be alright. Of course, if I use that philosophy to live in the present, everything will be alright, because the future is constantly becoming the present. Tomorrow will become today as surely as today will drift back into the wake of the past. Memory will replace the now experience and as waves behind a boat change shape with the passage of my craft, I move through the brine, creating and living in my amorphous future/present.

I neglected to post the haiku yesterday. These next three will be the last of the "Jail Haiku". Although there are many more, I am becoming bored with this rehashing of my painful past. I will begin to write more haiku, specifically for this post, and have them up faithfully every Tuesday. I will try to pick these last three with a sense of closure. So, as I watch the wake of my boat from the transom, I will see how the waves fold back into one another, smoothing themselves out, falling back into the sea, undistinguished from the rest of the ocean.

#165.
Faded timetables
and a broken luggage cart:
forgotten station.

#241.
Through the grey morning,
and my narrow, stained, window,
illumination.

#14.
The brooks water flow
has increased triumphantly:
winter is thawing.


Johnnyboy

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Political opinions...

Like many Americans I spent the week keeping track of the Alito hearings on the radio and TV. For those not in the know, Judge Samuel Alito has been nominated by the White House as the replacement for retiring Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. He has a long and active judicial record and speaks very well in public, seeming to take a non-partisan, apolitical, stance on many of the questions raised by the panel of 18 US Senators over the course of 5 days. But, the outcome will, I believe, only draw this republic closer to fascism than ever before. In my opinion, Samuel Alito is a slimy, double-talking, toady, who will anything his master (George W. Bush) commands. He is as slick as lawyers come, playing his "fairness" cards to the end in his bid for this important lifetime office. His views on Roe v. Wade are just the tip of the iceberg. R v. Wade is symbolic of his views on personal privacy as a whole, and jeopardize all Americans regardless of political or economic standing. He believes that the attorney general should be exempt from prosecution and financial amends involving illegal wiretaps. He is quoted, by Professor Chemerinsky*, in The New York Times, as saying, "The president should have the last word as to the meaning of statutes. There should be an increase in executive power." he believes in the unitary theory of the executive branch. Those who subscribe to this doctrine wish to limit Congress's ability to control the executive branch. They put forth the idea that the Securities Exchange Commission, the FCC, and special prosecutors are all unconstitutional. Ms. Michaelman*, in her analysis, continues by stating that "...There is much in his record that indicates, I think, clearly and beyond the boundaries of reasonable dispute that he rejects the idea of privacy, personal privacy as a fundamental American ideal."

This nation is moving quickly, not drifting, towards a fascist state. The government has already begun by using it's military to secure global positions in key economic and politically charged sovereign states. The propaganda machine used by the current office holders rivals that of Mussolini and Hitler. In fact, they are demonizing many of the same types of groups as both of those 20th century dictators. Intellectuals are considered an enemy of the state because they question the motives behind the actions. Art, literature, free expression of ideas, and individuality, are shunned in favor of the mob mentality of 'bread and circuses'. 'Bread and circuses', by the way, is what the Roman emperors used to placate the crowds, distracting them from the real goings on in the empire. These days I call that professional sports, reality TV, scandal, and celebrity cooze. Anyone who speaks out against the current administration, particularly its "war" on terror, is branded a traitor, or worse, even a terrorist themselves. Everyone knows that this "war" is unwinnable, which is its purpose. Killing only breeds more resentments and angers towards the New Empire. A perpetual state of war is a boon to any fascist state, keeping an industrial war economy booming and the rights of ordinary citizens down. Fear mongering insures that those who buy into the New Empire run to It for help instead of thinking for themselves.

A few years ago, author Norman Mailer wrote an Op-Ed piece for the Village Voice in which he posited that the ultimate result of man's search for political stability was fascism. He likened it to an evolution, wherein we pass through the halls of democracy, republic, theocracy, monarchy, and finally reach the end of the line, where we all march in step to a common drummer. Niccolo Machiavelli believed that most men are stupid and irrational, unable and incapable of governing themselves with intelligence, so therefore, they look to a strongman for their answers. Thomas Hobbes believed that the best system of government was one with a strong leader at the top of the chain-of-command and everyone subservient to him. So perhaps Mailer is right.

George Orwell's "1984" is another example of how the government works. The lies told by the current Bush administration are told so often that they become the truth. This is a trick learned from Joseph Goebbels, actually. Take for example the idea of fighting terrorism by invading Iraq. Few people remember that Saddam Hussein was the strongman the US depended upon in the 1980's to balance the power of the fundamentalist Islamic state of Iran. The theory that religious terrorists could exist within the secular Baathist system is unthinkable. Hussein would have considered such people to be a threat to his own power, brutal and bloody as it was. "Osama bin Laden" is as elusive and evil as Orwell's character "Immanuel Goldstein" the eternal enemy of Big Brother. ObL is pushed onto the screen, much the same as Goldstein, whenever the edge starts to wear thin. The horrible legacy of September 11th, 2001 has become a way for the administration to keep the nay-sayers at bay, shaming many people into submission and lock-step formation.

I fear for my country. I no longer consider it a nation, or united, in any way. We are divided along brutal and potentially bloody lines of demarcation concerning freedom, equality, and human rights. The Constitution of the United States has become ineffectual, being used to promote fascist, monarchical, power, rather than protecting all citizens from these dire ends. The camp at Guantanamo Bay is only the beginning, I believe. Soon there will be more camps, more jails, more prisons, and more people to keep them full. Soon the police will come knocking on the doors of ordinary citizens, just like you. This is not a theory. This has happened over and over again. There is proof of this kind of downward spiral. It is happening as we speak here in the USA.

So when they come knocking, knocking, on your chamber door...

What will you do?



Johnnyboy

*Erwin Chemerinsky, Duke University Law School
*Kate Michaelman, former president, Naral Pro-Choice America
quoted in The New York Times, 1/14/06, A10

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Wise decisions and a Nieuport 11...




I have decided against the 'Erotic Fiction Blog' concept. On the surface it seems a fascinating and enjoyable project, but when I began thinking about it with my sober mind I realized it would be the kind of thing I would write if I had been drinking. I think that the whole idea really was a product of my head cold/feverish dreamworld. Plus, with all the attention the law is paying to porn these days on the internet, even written porn, I thought it wise, as Obi-Wan Kenobi put it, "to steer clear of any Imperial entanglements." So I'll let others post their juicy tales of lust and abandonment and stick to a better, less fraught, path on this journey, this odyssey.

As some of you know I build model airplanes for a hobby. It's very calming and meditative for me and piques my interest in history. As some of you also know, I have recently become enamored with Ebay. I have been able to combine these areas easily, searching for rare and out-of-production (OOP) kits that now stock my shelves and a couple of largish boxes. One of my favorite kit is of the Nieuport 11, nicknamed "Bebe" by it's French makers. The best kit is made by a Ukrainian company called TOKO, or Eastern Express. I have been cornering the market on these kits. They aren't hard to find, nor are they expensive. I now own 8 unbuilt kits of this aircraft. It is a sweet little craft; small, manouverable, and quick, staying in service long after its contemporaries became obsolete. I've posted a picture of a French N.11 although they were used by the English, Belgian, Italian, Imperial Russian, etc...The list goes on. It is my favorite airplane of that era, really just a box-kite with an 80hp rotary engine. A sweet machine if there ever was one.

Johnnyboy

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Fever dreams and Haiku Tuesday...

The other day as I was trying to sleep off a serious head cold I had some wild dreams. I usually dream quite vividly if I sleep during the day and I have attributed this to the large quantity of light impulses bouncing off of my eyelids, but these were different. Even though I wasn't running a fever, they felt like those kinds of dreams: vivid, colorful, and more surreal than normal. I awoke at one point, and half-asleep, thought up an idea for a new blog to post:


Erotic Fiction.

In the dream state the words flowed smoothly and succinctly, weaving a real story based on my own experiences and those that I have read/watched/heard. The fiction was classy and non-smutty, although surely for mature audiences only. It seemed to be a cross between the Victorian porn style and the newer, more sex-positive writings of people like Carol Queen and others. It rocked, I tell ya.

So I woke up and mulled it over in my head and then decided to do some research first. I used my own blog host as a search engine and came up with lots of stuff. Apparently the only thing people like blogging about more than their own personal lives is their own personal sex lives. There were some genuinely good sites. Some were downright pornographic, complete with pictures. There were some that emphasized the play and fun aspect of the subject, and some were very serious. Every fetish you can think of is represented. I won't link them here (search for yourselves!)but there were a few I liked. One of the funnier sites is written by a woman in search of the perfect battery operated companion, if you get my drift. She has been doing her research as well, trying to find something that sends her over the edge and doesn't sound like a leaf-blower. Another was from a couple in the mid-west who write out their fantasies on-line, take suggestions, and perform them for their audience. So the breadth of scale is enormous.

If I were to attempt a blog in this genre I don't think writing it alone would be any fun. I mean, seriously, it's always more fun with others, right? I was thinking of posting an "exquisite corpse" style of blog, with people joining in on the content (text only, please). What do you all think of that? I think it might be fun. If it doesn't work, we can always scrap the idea.

Think about it while you read the haiku...


#23.
Hurried water runs
over patient mossy stones
splashing on the bank.

#63.
Milky jade light
ignites to full tangerine:
suddenly morning.

#79.
Hand in hand, downtown:
every look a pure romance
softer than the sun.


Johnnyboy

Monday, January 09, 2006

I'm getting better...

For those of you following the saga of my head cold, it is on the down-swing. I woke up this morning feeling slightly better than yesterday, so I decided to call the whole thing off and stay at home. I was supposed to go to a seamstress and have some chinos hemmed and cuffed, but I cancelled after making my decision. Instead I read "The Color Purple", some philosophy, drank tea, juice, water, took some pics of my newest aircraft build, and tried to squeeze in a nap among the raging goings on of a nothing day. But that's alright. I'm also going to skip the meeting tonight. I think if I can have one more night without a radical change of body temperature, I may kick this cold into next year.

I had a brainstorm the other night about smoking cigarettes. Now, I smoke, but very infrequently and not at home. I manage a pack of smokes every 2 1/2 days or so. Still, in my state a bill has just been passed that would increase the price $2 across the board! I know that they are bad for me, and I know what they do. The fact is that I am stubborn and willful when it comes to these things. Oh yeah, my brainstorm...

I want to smoke a cigarette. That is obvious.

But I don't need to smoke a cigarette. I think it may work. Every time I experience a craving, I say to myself, "I want one, but I don't need one." After all, what have the little bastards ever done for me? Sure, they look good on film, in black and white, in a tuxedo, but how often do I ever get that chance? Never. So I'm going to try to dump these things. At the very least I'll save about $24 a week (my cigs currently go for $5.75 a pack) after the price increase.

All this talk of smoking makes me want to have a smoke, but that would mean going outside, temperature change, etc...


I want my family members to stop reading my blog. Stop it, right now. Think of it as a dresser in someone's room: sure you know where it is, but that doesn't mean you have to rifle through it looking for clues as to lifestyle and opinion. Set some boundaries, folks.

Johnnyboy

Sunday, January 08, 2006

A Better Blog...

Well I am finally able to post my favorite spaces and places on the internet. With the kindly, patient, and indispensable help of Aravis I have added some links at the bottom of the page. One of them is my photo album, which saves me loads of time if I refer to my pictures in a blog. Another is the best resource for the aircraft and those that flew them during the First World War. Aircraft of that era are a hobby of mine and this site is the key to my happiness. I have linked 2 of my favorite personal blogs as well, those being 'She Who Weaves Hypertext Markup Spells" Aravis and Sam, of Sam I Am. The fifth addition (sounds like a soul R&B group...The Fifth Addition!) is possibly the best recovery site out there. They cover almost any aspect of recovery one would wish to talk about and the forum is really spot-on, as they say. So sign up for Sober Recovery...It's free and well worth the imaginary dollar in the basket.

What a relief. I was really confused about this html stuff, and rightly so, being a language I know nothing about. But with a little patience and a template provided by the above I seem to be getting the hang of some of it. This means, of course, that I may have to find more and more blogs to add on. I have a few in mind, so stay tuned.

I'm still sick, feeling on the borderline of either getting well or worse. I'll stick to tea and juice for the next few days. My only real commitment this week is school on Wednesday morning, so I'd like to kick this dog before then.


Johnnyboy

It's official...

Yes, it's true...

I'm sick. It started a few days ago with the classic scratchy throat and the occasional sneeze. I think it blossomed yesterday into something lurkingly nasty, culminating in feeling like hell this morning. So I did the right thing: I made some ginger/lemon/honey elixir, crawled back in to bed with some reading for school. The concoction made my blood move and the heat rise and the book was good to take my mind off of my sniffling and sneezing. In about an hour I was asleep again. I slept until about 2PM and now I feel pretty good. I'm still sniffling, but the feeling of being sick has left me. I'm loathe to take any syrups or tablets that might stop my drippy nose because those things usually have something in them that wack me out. They either make me sleepless or drowsy, neither of which I like.

Aravis is going to take me by the hand and show me how to post some permanent links on this blog . I'm so inept when it comes to this stuff. If it isn't in the 'point-and-shoot' format of programming I get all kinds of confused and give up. It will be fun to have my favorite blogs and sites listed. I can finally put my photo site as a link and a link to my favorite recovery site, Soberrecovery.com. It's a big forum with all kinds of recovery from AA to PTSD and everything in-between.

Sop I'm going to try to make it to a meeting tonight. The weather seems calm, no rain or snow, so I'll bundle up around 6:45PM and head out into the dark for a little dose of program.

For once I think I'll sit in the back, lest I spread this cold any further. BTW, I think I caught it from my sponsee...Thanks a bunch!


Johnnyboy

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Being comfortable in my own skin...

My thanks to Aravis, Hawkote, and SamIAm for their kind words of hope, advice and all that jazz. But really, it's nice to know that someone is reading this thing!

Despite yesterday's unnerving experience with a person who loves to dabble and reform in their own image, I am secure in my Self. I am finally becoming comfortable in my own skin after too many years of not. I attribute all of this to AA and the Steps and what they teach me about myself. It's funny, though, how there will always be people in my life who do not agree with the littlest things about me, as if my own life's quirks are their pet peeves. I really have no desire to create someone in my image. Perhaps that's why I think those reality 'makeover' shows (take your pick) are complete and utter bunk and not even worth a laugh. All I can think of are those poor people with a perfectly normal, solid, livable ranch-style house in the suburbs who are suddenly left with a medieval castle made of cheap goods from Big Box stores, WalMart, and Home Depot. I read somewhere, actually, that one of those shows ran over the time limit and so they packed up and split, relegating the huge cost of rebuilding, repairing, and cleanup to the owner of the home. There were lawsuits and the owner won but it put a spotlight on just how cheap and crappy these makeovers really are.

So what I'm getting at is there is no point in being something you're not. If I choose to be a hip kinda guy, it's because I am already and different clothing will not improve that Self. The new facade will probably just look ersatz and tawdry, as if I have something to hide or am compensating for a lack of verve.

In the cooking world it is well known that the only reason the French are so fond of sauces is so they can cover up lesser cuts of meat or fish.

I am trying to put some permanent links to other folks' blogs, but I don't know how or even if I can with a free blog. I may have to update and get a paid site. Oh well, I'll figure it out...


Johnnyboy

Strange day...

What a weird day. I woke up this morning and started my day as usual---meditation, coffee, newspaper, and then some schoolwork. A friend called around 10am and invited me to go with her to a nearby town with her while she ran some errands. She asked me a very personal question on the drive there: "Have you thought about a career?"

My answer was the same as it has always been: I'm back in school to figure that out. It was obvious that this wasn't enough for her, so I had to elaborate on how my life has been turned upside down in the past 3-4 years, my felony conviction prevents me from entering certain careers, and how I'm trying to figure this out in my own time. 19 months in a maximum security jail also tends to have a lasting effect on a person. I suddenly felt such huge pressure, as if the question was actually being fielded from many people and filtered through her.

On the way home she started talking about how I needed to have a relationship with someone( what are we going to do about you?), get back out there, etc...Then she started in on my glasses (I'm near sighted). I asked her if she liked them and she said "No, they remind me of my father's glasses. You need something chic and Euro." Now, I've tried the little glasses, round and not round, and I don't look good in them. Also the frames or edges of the lens catches my eye and puts strain on the ocular muscles and pulls my eyes out of focus. I explained this to her and also how I don't buy into the media-driven image of beauty and style, seeing it as just another way to influence consumerism and a false sense of Self. "If someone is going to love me," I said, "It will not be because of what I wear."

That seemed to put the kabosh on the subject, thank The Force.

So now I'm wide awake at a time when I should be asleep. My mind is spinning with all this crap about image/self-image, the grinding rumor mill concerning my past, and all the things I shouldn't be worrying about. I know that what people think of me is not my business, but the urge to fit in and be just like everyone else will always be strong in me.

I am fortunate to not be in dire financial straits. I do not dress flamboyantly, choosing muted earthtones as my colors. I do not laugh uproariously, or create passionate drama wherever I go. I am more subdued, calm, cerebral, and patient. I have seen enough in my life so far to not be surprised or shocked by anything or anybody. Frankly, a lot of things I find pretty boring and hohum. It takes a really good joke to unseat me. So I think that this physical and mental presence that I have makes people think that I'm holier-than-thou, or something. Actually I'm just listening, being quiet, pensive. I'll let other people run around like madmen if they want. I'll watch.

What I find exciting would probably bore a lot of people as well, but not me. Strange how that works. I'm probably not much different than many other people I know.

I chose my glasses because they were a good practical shape, not too noticeable, and lightweight. Not because they were "in" style. I am somewhat sensible about these things, not so sensible about others.

I am not a Puppet, nor a window mannequin. Play dressup-dolly with someone else's head.



Johnnyboy

Thursday, January 05, 2006

More gifts and promises kept...

Last night I made up my mind to swallow my selfish pride, confront my fears, and make a long overdue amends to my sister. Over the past few years, despite her love and support of me, I have said some cruel and judgmental things to and about her. Thankfully my conscience is still somewhat intact and the pain and guilt helped me to take the step and do the next right thing.

This morning I awoke with the determination to follow through with my plan. I almost balked, however, when I ruminated whether to get out of bed and have coffee first. Thankfully HP reminded me that coffee could come later as I had more important things to do. So I walked directly to the phone and dialed her number. I was relieved to find her at home. I was not wishing to have to leave a message and play phone tag with this important issue.

Everything went very well. I correctly assumed the responsibility for my actions and recognized how mean and unfair the statements had been. She was very kind and understanding, which was a huge relief. Just as quick as that we went on and spoke of an upcoming visit and some of the logistics involved.

We didn't talk long as I realized that I had to leave the house soon for a visit to a nearby town where I had a great session of NeuroCybernetics with my therapist.

It's a great feeling to use the phrase "what's done is done" in a positive sense. A huge weight had been lifted from my life. I love to lose the baggage that I drag around.

The gift is a new chance for an honest relationship with my sister. The promise is one I kept to myself.


Johnnyboy

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Confronting the Dark Puppeteer...

The funny thing about this blog, and I think any personal, anonymous, blog is just that: it is personal and anonymous. The thoughts and feelings I post here are mine, and mine alone. I may be misguided sometimes, but my posts are honest and truthful from the standpoint of any private diary, which is, of course an ego-driven exercise to begin with. That the blog is anonymous protects me and those I write about from public exposure and scrutiny. If my experiences can help someone else who may read this is a benefit that I may never see. My father has decided that to read this blog is a violation of that privacy and so he has set boundaries for himself: he doesn't read it.

It is only my ego-centric self-importance that assumes that my life is so special, so unique, as to warrant fear that the outside world will take any real interest in these postings. The whole thing could be complete fiction for all anyone knows. There is certainly nothing unique about family dysfunction, resentment, fear, and anger. I don't know anyone who doesn't have some sort of familial angst banging around in their cupboards.

Today, my anger revolves around my ability to play the victim in my life. If I travel down that path I assume that I am innocent of any wrongdoing, and merely a puppet manipulated by the cruel and unfair hands of the Dark Puppeteer up in the rafters of my memory. Thankfully this is not true. I have done wrong to others and myself, and I have taken responsibility for those wrongs. Only my own paranoia and fear want me to continue to jiggle on the end of a set of frayed and dusty strings. By playing that role I choose to keep secrets, not talk about my fears, and hide. By taking that extra step and moving through my fear I discover what many before me already have: that fear is a bogeyman, the monster under the bed, the shadow in the corner. In the clear light of day I see the truth. Under the bed are dust bunnies, the corner is just a corner, and there is no bogeyman.

Only me.

Once again I have been castigated for my blog. Not by the (also) anonymous public, but by my family. Perhaps someday I'll write a book about the whole experience and be done with it. A previous posting has caused so much pain that a potential family get-together may fall to ruins. I am sorry if I hurt anyone, but my own angers at myself tend to push me towards the puppet show and once again I find myself being showcased by the Dark Puppeteer as a prime example of the Perfect Victim. This is no excuse for lacking in restraint of tongue and pen, but the difference is that today I am willing and able to assume responsibility for my actions and also not blow them out of proportion. I am willing to not play either the Perfect Victim or the Dark Puppeteer in my life.

The world is not watching. The world doesn't care. The world is worried about itself, not some 2-bit free blog on the Net.

I've cut through the strings. I'm not afraid to stand limp and unsure. It's only my flawed and human memory telling me that I cannot stand.


Johnnyboy

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Strange resentments and feelings...

Through my step work with my sponsor I have come to my 9th Step. I have written before about my amends to my father and mother. It essentially comes down to their wish for my happiness through a healthy state of mind. My availability and sobriety today is my amends to them as it is to myself. When I first came into the program, my sister told me that my actions were the greatest gift I had ever given her. That was over 3 years ago. When I constructed my 8th Step list of people I needed to contact my sponsor and I looked at it and decided when I should make these amends and how to follow through with my plan. Most of the people on the list were family members. The rest were primarily former co-workers and employers. Thankfully I didn't owe any money or any legal restitutions. As most of you know I took care of the legal end to my fullest.

The first order of business was importance. Was it necessary for me to search out every person in my life that I felt I needed to confront? Certainly not. What was important was to prepare myself for the day when I would confront them. As he put it,

"Ten years from now you're driving along and you stop to help a person with a flat tire. That person turns out to be the guy you lived with 20 years ago and skimped out on with the rent. You must be ready to react properly and with dignity when the subject arises, and it will."

Much of my list is made up of people like that: people whose last names I have forgotten, old lovers who are lost in the past.

The rest of the list live within 40 miles my home.

Do I go to them immediately and start knocking on doors? My sponsor seems to think that this should be an organic process and many of my problems in the past are a result of my pushing the envelope and forcing an issue. I think the idea is that they will appear when both of us are entirely ready to go through with the actions. I can see this working already: my brother-in-law called yesterday. We haven't spoken in years and in that time I said some very hurtful things about him. All of these things are due to my resentments, angers, jealousies, etc...Halfway through a great conversation I changed the subject and made my amends. It was simple. I apologized for the past and the hurt and told him that I would never do it again because I am trying to build something new from the ashes of the old. He was very gracious and more than understanding. He is a gentle and wise man who is able to see my insanity (and therefore my family's) for what it is and also for what it is not. He knew I was in pain. My pain hurt him, but he has forgiven me, as I have forgiven myself. So what's the problem?

Simple. Tonight at a meeting we read the BB Chapter 6, 'Into Action'. When it came time to share I laid out what I have just written. There were many good ideas put forth. One guy, however, I think, made it a point to try to correct me and said things like "This is not called 'Into Thinking' or 'Into Feeling'. My sponsor made me use google, phonebooks, start knocking on doors, and all that." This really irked me. It made me realize that he was comparing, not identifying, and even trying to one-up me. There were weird comments all through his share that bothered me and obviously seemed pointed concerning my and my sponsors apparent 'Easy does it' approach. Actually I think the guy is an asshole so that may be coloring my attitude. We don't get along, and frankly would never be in the same room together if it weren't for AA. Strange...I also think he spreads rumors about my felonious past that are highly damaging. Sometimes I want to say to him, "If you have something to say about me, say it to my face..."

Whatever. I don't have to like the guy. He has his own shit to work through.

Here are the haiku...

#28.
The rolling streambed
rattles and tumbles stones
and carves them rounder.

#238.
Swifts, flying abstracts
dancing on the bright pinhead
of a cool morning.

#194.
To be lost at sea,
floating, awaiting rescue,
miles from anywhere.


Johnnyboy

Sunday, January 01, 2006

A new year, with more gifts, and promises to keep...

Fortunately the only promises in my life these days are kept by HP and not myself. My attitude and outlook on life has changed and I have ceased struggling against the river. This reminds me of the Taoist tale of the man being swept down the torrent and walking ashore unscathed. His solution was to relax and let the current take him. In doing so the water kept him from bumping into the rocks and so forth. It was only the stiff and unbending branches that were snapped against the unyielding blocks of stone. Yes, I know it's cliche...Go with the flow, man...HA!

I decided to do a little websearching this morning and sought out a past teacher of mine from prep school. The school itself was pretty right-wing and I was certainly out-of-place being a political and cultural lefty in a world of rampant conservatives. As I recall the big heroes of the institution were a couple of lust-for-money Texans who cornered some commodities market way back when. I think they came to bad ends eventually, taxes I think. Anyway...I had this English teacher and hallmaster who was pretty cool, too cool for that place, if you know what I mean. He played guitar (not folk), read cool books, had a seemingly wild past that drew a few of us to him. He was also a genuinely nice guy. He helped me out a lot with my homework and even caught me tripping 2 days before the SATs. I remember his words well--"And remember John, no more psychedelics." That having been my first time around, so-to-speak, I was mortified that anyone knew about my strange experience. Isn't it odd that as teens we thought we were getting away with it all? Hmmm...But as the great philosopher said, "When I was younger, so much younger than today..."

So I looked him up. He is no longer at that school, but rather the Headmaster at a school in a Northern State that seems more balanced, less snooty, and certainly more based in reality than the previous hallowed halls of tradition and mammon. His picture shows him to be a little grayer (as am I), but with the same clarity of eye and easy smile which drew me to him in the first place. I even sent him the address to this blog.

I know the state he lives in pretty well, but not his region specifically. I checked the AA listings and there are plenty of meetings around his neck of the woods so if I end up visiting I can hit a meeting or 2. Strange...

"And now my life has changed in oh so many ways..."

Gotta love philosophy...

Johnnyboy