The Point

by Bree L.

Glenn, a true local, was born and raised in Bayview-Hunter’s Point in San Francisco.  He was born into a large family, the youngest of seven children. He was a fraternal twin with one older brother and four sisters.  His mother was the primary caregiver as his stepfather, an alcoholic, was gone a lot. His father eventually died from cirrhosis of the liver.  Today, two siblings have passed away and the rest are living in the area. His mother died of lung cancer after smoking steadily for forty years.  Glenn, as the youngest, says, “they spoiled me.”

His sobriety date is October 28, 2003. Prior to getting sober, he was in and out of jail for many years. There was a reoccurring theme of getting sick and going to San Francisco General Hospital (SFGH). He would be admitted for overnight observation and upon departure get discharge meds, and the whole circus would start over again. One time, while waiting for his medication he decided to take a walk. He stopped for a cigarette as part of his walk and ran into a sheriff’s department security guard. The guard recognized Glenn, detained him, and realized there was a warrant for his address. He landed in jail four more months. That was an example of how his life went up and down. 

His life went up and down

The last arrest before his incarceration, he was sent to drug court and sentenced to attend outpatient rehab in the Bayview, his old stomping grounds. He’d attend class on Carroll Ave. every day from nine to one and spend the rest of the day using. It was great to get treatment in his neighborhood as he knew all the dealers and where they were located. Periodically, he’d return to court, but treatment would be denied because he’d had too many dirties when they tested him.  The last time, he was sent to Redwood Center inpatient program. It was an opportunity to get out of the city. He was dressed for court at 850 Bryant, thinking he’d have a day or so before treatment but this time he was sent directly to Redwood City with no chance to visit his known neighborhood. 

Getting to Redwood Center, he questioned if he really needed to be there?  There were all these men, punk rockers, gays, straights, so different from his neighborhood but he decided to at least give it a shot. He didn’t see what they could do that would be so different, but there was at least a chance for change. He managed to graduate after ninety days. But with this new certification he was still unemployable. He says it was a lucky break that the city paid for all his treatment.

His new sponsor told Glen about the Dry Dock

Upon his return, he had a conversation with his godmother who lived in the Bayview. They both questioned if he could stay clean. He knew he was now more focused and had an idea of what he wanted out of life. He figured between his Higher Power and his godmother, they would help him stay on track. He moved in with her and began taking care of his godmother who had multiple health issues. 

His new sponsor, Terry, told Glen about the Dry Dock and how it had many meetings. Glenn took the bus from the Bayview (the 24 to Jackson, and the 22 to Lombard and Fillmore) and began attending the 8:30 pm meeting after putting his grandmother to bed. This worked well so he included the 10:00 pm meeting. Things got better as he got to know people, and with that, he added the 5:15 meeting after feeding his grandmother an early dinner. Her son was available after work help. Glenn stayed with her as a caretaker for four years until she passed

After his godmother passed, a man from the Dry Dock said he had an extra room in his place in Daly City. The man had a disability, needed help, and asked Glenn to move in. This worked well for ten years, but toward the end, Glenn needed to make a change. As our program works, he fortuitously connected with a fellow at the Dry Dock who said he had a condo in town with an extra bedroom. The fellow’s mother had originally bought the place before she died and left the condo to him. Here he was offered a San Francisco condo, centrally located. As Glenn says, it was a “God shot” to have this wonderful place available to him.  

Glenn now works the swing shift, customer service desk at the Dry Dock, which has the most meetings of any site in the city. His motto is to never turn anyone away, even during quarantine. When a room was full, he had a dial-in lobby connection. He truly adheres to our motto of always having the helping hand of AA available to anyone who reaches out.

by Kathleen C

One morning I was lying in bed. I was hungover. Yeah, I’m a morning person: I could wake up at 5 o’clock in the morning and have a joint. My sister and I were talking about this, “How is that possible?” I felt it mellowed me. Hungover I was grumpy. So it’s morning and these two bright-eyed little two-year-olds come bounding into the bedroom. They start jumping on the bed as if it’s a trampoline. One of them landed on my stomach, really hard and she hurt me.

I didn’t think, I acted. This was a visceral reaction to getting my stomach jumped on. I pick her up, I’m lying down so I pick her up, and I threw her on the floor. The floor was carpeted, I hope she wasn’t hurt. Honestly I don’t remember. I don’t remember if she cried. I don’t remember what I did, if I hugged her or comforted her or what. I will remember forever the look on her face when she realized what I was about to do.

It really was something that I was aware of for years afterwards, because I figured she had realized, “Don’t make mommy mad. Whatever you do don’t make mommy mad. If she’s not brushing your hair the way you like it, don’t make her mad, just do it yourself.” My daughters say they don’t remember these things. I remember. I will always remember.

Don’t make mommy mad. Whatever you do, don’t make mommy mad

Funny how mornings are just not that great for us alcoholics. My other daughter wanted to go to the park. I didn’t feel like getting it together to take her there. Her sister was still asleep, she was in her little fuzzy pink pajamas with feet, those kinds of things. I said, “Why don’t we just go out in front of the house?” It was sunny on the sidewalk, there was a little picket fence and I said, “Let’s just go outside.” Maybe that would get it out of her system.

We were standing out there on the sidewalk and the phone rings in the house. The phone’s hanging in the kitchen, it’s right inside the front doorway. I said, “Stay right there, honey.” She’s standing there, she’s holding a cloth diaper that was her security blanket, sucking her thumb. I’m like, “Just stay right there honey, I’ll be right back.” I run up the stairs, I answer the phone. I space out. I forget about her. I don’t know how long I talked, 15 minutes, 20 minutes. I hung up the phone and I realized, “Oh my God, she’s still out there on the sidewalk.” Except she wasn’t.

All that was there was her little cloth diaper hung neatly across the picket fence. I went nuts. I started screaming, assuming she’d been kidnapped. I’m running up and down the street. One of my neighbors came out and she took charge. She said, “Okay, you go down to that end of the block, I’ll go down to this end of the block.” Where we lived then, and I still live now, is Bernal Heights. The park she had been talking about was Rolph Park. We were on the other side of what was then Army Street, now called Cesar Chavez. My neighbor found her standing at the southbound on-ramp for the 101 freeway, looking across four lanes of traffic at the park across the street.

My neighbor found her standing, looking across four lanes of traffic at the park across the street

That didn’t get me sober. That didn’t. We are immune to self-realization. Not good. Sorry, I just gave you horrendous drunkologue and no sobriety. My sister had gotten sober, she started taking me to meetings down in LA where she lives, saying we’d see movie stars. We did. I also saw her life and how it changed. She dragged me to meetings. Forget attraction rather than promotion. She said, “If you don’t stop drinking you’re going to die,” which was true. She said, “If it was the only thing left in the world would you abuse it?” I realized, if there was nothing left but alcohol of course I’d abuse it. I was still abusing it, I just wasn’t acknowledging that fact.

I started going to Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings, which I did for about a year and a half and I worked the steps in that program. Then I decided to check into Alcoholics Anonymous. I started going to the Potrero Hill Big Book meeting. My sobriety date by the way is September 11th, 1986, which is my sister Carolyn’s birthday. I won’t say which one. I started going to the Potrero Hill Big Book meeting, eight o’clock, Monday nights. I got my sponsor, Bonnie, and she worked the steps with me very patiently. I went to that one meeting for five years. I was just going to do the minimum.

Half the time when I’d say I was an alcoholic I had my fingers crossed behind my back. It was really hard for me to do that First Step, say, “Yes, you’re just an alcoholic.” Eventually at five years I went to a conference with Carolyn in Southern California. I shared that the extent of my program was the one meeting a week, sometimes commitments. Yes I had worked the steps, but I wasn’t sponsoring anybody. Nobody wanted what I had.

A woman came up to me afterwards. This is something really important in AA: we reach out to people. She said, “You’re going to drink.” She said, “There’s no standing still in this program. If you’re not moving forward you’re sliding back. You’re going to drink.” That is what made me start going to more meetings. I started going to the Tuesday noon meeting in Civic Center, where I met Patricia. That also got me started going to meetings in West Marin, where I didn’t realize there were alcoholics. Surprise. I met all the wonderful people that I’ve met out in West Marin, which completely changed my relationship to that community, because all of a sudden I knew people in a real way. (To Be Continued)

by Israel B

The sixth annual Unity and Service Conference promotes interest in the 12 Traditions and 12 Concepts of AA. The content specifically caters to sponsored members who have worked the Steps, but might not yet have a strong grasp of these two important areas. It is the Conference’s hope that attending members will be inspired to volunteer for General Service, as well as discover more ways to put the principles of A.A. into their everyday lives.

The seed for the Unity and Service Conference appeared in 2012, and sprouted from the friendly conversations of two Love and Service Group members. Almost by accident, Bob D. and Kent D. started the local conversation about expanding service and awareness of the Traditions and Concepts. These two men were on fire for the Concepts and Traditions and wanted the world to know it! How could they get more people interested? How could they inspire more service? How could they share their own experience, strength and hope with the AA World? Through much hard work and sponsor’s encouragement, the answer appeared: The first Unity and Service Conference came to reality on Labor Day 2016. The event was a resounding success, so much so that it became one of the annual highlights of the San Francisco Bay area.

This year has been a challenging one, due to COVID-19 and the state-wide restrictions on in-person gatherings. There was a very real worry that the momentum over the years could be slowed, and the committee was concerned that there might not be a conference at all. What we did not count on was the ingenuity, resourcefulness, and dedication of A.A. members. All around we saw other events adapt to the situation, finding new ways to interact. We saw the spark of A.A. continue to burn even in the face of this daunting scenario. Thanks to video-conference technology, the willingness of members to try something new, and everyone’s creative efforts, this year’s gathering would go on! This year’s conference would be virtual, offering members from all over the world an opportunity to share in this once local-only event. How exciting it was to find this much needed silver lining in a year marked by so many challenges.

This year’s conference would be virtual, offering members from all over the world an opportunity

The Conference committee has put a lot of hard work into this event, and the speakers are dedicated to doing their best to communicate their own enthusiasm for the 12 Concepts and 12 Traditions. They hope to inspire attendees to catch Bob D. and Kent D.’s fire, and take it back to their own friends and local groups. General Service is an amazing chance for A.A. members to get involved in the fabric of what keeps A.A. going. The event’s motto is “The Secret of Service,” which echo’s Bill and Bob’s discovery that indeed it is the secret to success in A.A. 

Link: https://www.unityandserviceconference.org/

By Gail F.

The fall of 1988 was when a group of newcomers in West Marin were told, by one of the few women out here with some time in the fellowship, that we should start our own meeting. There were four of us trying to stay sober by doing “365 in 365” instead of the usual “90 in 90.” We were having a lot of fun driving back and forth from Inverness Park to Bolinas and Stinson Beach. We had endless discussions puzzling about sobriety, meetings, A.A. in general, the Big Book, the Steps and our various personal problems as we drove back and forth trying to avoid the wildlife on Highway 1.

We didn’t know it then but the bond we formed helped to provide us all with a solid base for our recovery. I think about those times often when a new woman comes into the meeting we started back then and wish for her what was given to us — a feeling of connection and support that none of us had experienced before. 

We started by asking all the sober women in West Marin to tell their stories

The meeting began in a little cottage in downtown Point Reyes Station, a cottage which at that time housed Health and Human Services. The living room we met in had an old-fashioned fireplace. We all got into the habit of bringing wood in the winter to keep ourselves warm. Eventually the meeting had to move when the house was sold and we were lucky to get the Inverness Fire House meeting room, where we are now. 

It is hard to keep a small meeting going sometimes, but this meeting has been strong for a long time now. Seventeen years. It’s easy for me to remember because I only had a few months of sobriety when the meeting began. We started by asking all the sober women in West Marin to tell their stories. That took care of our first few months of speakers. We decided pretty early on that we should alternate speaker discussion meetings with discussion meetings. After the local women had all told their stories a couple of times over as well as stories from their sponsors and relatives, we branched out.

I was going over the hill regularly to the Fairfax 7:00 a.m. meeting in those days and invited women from Fairfax and San Geronimo to speak at our meeting. We all made it our business to supply speakers. As a lot of sober women came to give us their experience, strength and hope we found they became regulars at our meeting and brought their friends. Now the continuing membership is at least one-half women from out of our immediate area. The meeting still fluctuates between 3 and 35 or so. We meet at the Inverness Fire House from 6:00 to 7:15 p.m. every Saturday. All are welcome.

by Gerald W

This is a phrase I have said at least a thousand times over the past five years, since entering into a new way of living through Alcoholics Anonymous: “I am an alcoholic and an addict and my name is Gerald.” And these words have changed my life. Every time that I say them I am reborn. Because it is through the program of Alcoholics Anonymous that I now have a life and not just an existence.

In addition to being an alcoholic and an addict, I am also African American, gay, and I have a depressive anxiety disorder. And I am living with HIV. These are my truths. Nonetheless, at some point in my life I used each of them as an excuse to drink and use. Until I realized there are no excuses.

I believe that the disease of alcoholism is both of nature and of nurture

My introduction to alcohol came as a young child when I tried to mimic what I saw on 1970’s television dramas. Whenever some catastrophe that took place (someone getting shot, a car accident, an avalanche), there was always someone standing by and the first thing they did was to give the distraught victim this stuff called brandy. This magical elixir called brandy seemed to make the victim more at ease and able to function and calm down after the trauma. So yes. At eight years old I tried the magical elixir and I hated it. I swore I would never drink it again. Well, that was the first of what would become a pattern of lies surrounding alcohol and drugs.

I believe that the disease of alcoholism is both of nature and of nurture. I come from a long line of alcoholics. All of them participated in alcoholic antics: Playing chicken with trains while drunk, sleeping in the neighbor’s dog house, or jumping into oceans when you can’t swim (that was me), just to name a few. My journey into A.A. was not a graceful one, and I am not unique.

My higher power made it perfectly clear I could either change, and stop using drugs and alcohol, or I would die. This was demonstrated by my almost walking into traffic in what I termed a “walking blackout,” barely missing getting hit by oncoming vehicles. A loud voice in my head woke me just as I was about to step into the street. I call this voice my higher power.

My journey into A.A. was not a graceful one

I had to surrender to a power greater than myself. The practices and principles of A.A. have given me the opportunity to be of service to others that suffer with this disease. I no longer have to wake up not knowing what I did the night before, sick from the ingestion of poisons, remorseful, ashamed, demoralized and the like.

It was college where my alcoholism took off in leaps and bounds. This is where cocaine was introduced to the mix and this made partying a sport. Who can get the most wasted yet still claim some parts of their sanity? Not I. This is also where my promiscuous attitudes towards sex began. There is no doubt that I contracted HIV as a result of the behaviors directly related to my drinking and using. That was just one of the consequences of the deadly disease of addiction. I have learned in this new design for living that acceptance is the key.

Today I start and end my days by making an effort to be the best version of myself. This starts with thinking of others before I think of myself, and knowing that I don’t control anything. Don’t think, don’t drink. Thy will be done and  bless you all.

by Rob S

Here is a description of the evolution of our ego, followed by Sigmund’s Freud’s disclosure of its purpose. From an evolutionary perspective, ego is surmised to have evolved from self-awareness. Self-awareness is particularly advantageous for social animals like us — humans. It gives us an idea about our strengths, weaknesses, our role and position in the society and also to understand other’s behavior. When Freud developed psychoanalytic theory, he used the German word es (Ego in English) to describe the part of the self that is responsible for decision making.

I understand our ego is an inherited filter that protects us from outside hazards and perilous internal decisions. Without our egos humans could never have survived the slings and arrows of time. Our ego is to be considered a benevolent human psychological component. As Dr. Freud explained, it is a thought filter—a decision making apparatus.

Although this may seem an unusual glowing report for which is often given an extremely bad rap around the AA tables, we can experience a benevolent healthy ego that keeps us happy, joyous and free (Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 133). However, our egos sometimes may go out of whack and become disastrous to us and to our fellows:

An inspired ego filter takes precedence over the fear and destructive behavior of the secular driven ego

 The secular driven ego filter that lives in deep fear and elevates ordinary situations out of proportion. We begin to consider ourselves big shots (egomaniacs), unable to see another’s point of view, often insulting, uncaring of others, self-centered to the max, and all the rest of it. We can easily see how this dangerous disorder can lead alcoholics to that first drink.

As the result of living the Twelve Steps, an inspired ego filter takes precedence over the fear and destructive behavior of the secular driven ego. The problem (mental obsession) has been removed. It does not exist for us so long as we remain in a fit spiritual condition (Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 85).

I have a choice

My mental obsession has been removed although I have not remained in a fit spiritual condition every day though many years. Appendix II, Spiritual Experience, tells that we can have a personality change sufficient, “just enough” to bring about recovery from alcoholism (Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 567). In other words, my ego does not have to be one-hundred present on-the-beam of happy destiny all the time. Of, course it would be impossible to be free from lurking subconscious drunken monkey demons crashing into the alcoholic’s conscious mind.

But then, isn’t that what Step Ten is all about? It tells us when these things crop up to ask God for help, to discuss with another person, make amends if we have harmed anyone and turn our thoughts to someone we can help. I notice that when I really do this, my ego filter returns to a “God Inspired” condition (Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, Step 10). My self-propelled ego remains confined and I reman free. Is ego good or bad? I have a choice.

by Kathleen C

All day today I’ve been walking around my house, loading the dishwasher and making my bed and doing whatever I do as part of my life, saying this little chant that my sponsor Bonnie and I came up with. I don’t know where it came from, I think it was from a meditation book. It was, “The power of God is within me, the grace of God surrounds me.” All day long I have been saying that to myself. I realized while I was sitting at the table just now that when I was drinking and using I was alone. I was not a social drinker, I was a “hide out in my house with the blinds closed” kind of drinker and user.

There are drugs in my story, but you know, Bill and Bob had drugs in their story too. We use drugs as a cure for alcoholism. I was really fond of the cocaine cure for alcoholism, that’s a really good one. I would be in my house by myself, feeling terror and fear and shame. I’d be looking out the blinds of my kitchen at the street in front of my house, watching the cars go by, not sure if they were the FBI or the Black Panthers. I just knew they were after me.

We did go to the movie theater, which had a parking lot in the back

I don’t have that anymore. I am not alone anymore. I have never felt so not alone than I have in this room. I am surrounded, I am loved. Anything that life hands me, good or bad, I can share it with you. That is a huge gift of sobriety for me. That was a big step for me to trust other people, to identify with other people, to share myself with other people without fear … Well, yeah, I’d had some fear and some shame. You share with your home group and they laugh with you, they know you, they care about you. That is what happened with me.

That’s huge and that makes an incredible difference in my life. To the people who are new, who are concerned that without alcohol the party’s over, I think you can look around and realize the party is just beginning. Life is good, sober life is good. It’s not perfect, we’re not perfect, but it’s full and it’s rich. I was trying to think back to some of my experiences from early sobriety. One of the most striking for me was that I could actually look people in the eye. I could look another human being in the eye. I didn’t have to worry about how red my eyes were, or how stinky my breath was. I could look another human being in the eye and talk with them and share with them.

In How It Works, it reads, “Our stories disclosed in a general way what we were like, what happened and what we’re like now.” I got started early. I had my first drink of alcohol when I was still a baby, I think I was about a year old. My parents were young and poor and they had three kids in four years. Nobody paid a whole lot of attention to their kids. They couldn’t afford babysitters, they’d either take the kids with them to a party or if the party was at their house the kids would be around.

I remember my mother telling a story about them throwing pillows in the bathtub for the kids to sleep in. I was discovered sitting on the floor of the kitchen, surrounded by the almost empty beer bottles that were left from the party. I was with a little boy, and this is one of my many experiences of alcohol and little boys. The two of us were tipping up the beer bottles and enjoying them I assume. I know this because somebody told me, I don’t remember.

Then my next experience with substance abuse was when I was about two years old. I got into my mother’s purse and I had a baby sister, and she was a crying baby. My mother, she had been taking diet pills because that’s what doctors prescribed for pregnant women, to keep them from gaining too much weight. She just kept on with it. It was a very good way for her to cope with having three kids in four years and working full time.

She also had sleeping pills. The sleeping pills were in her purse. They were red, I assume I thought they were candy and being an alcoholic and addict I took them all. They realized it quickly and I went to the emergency room and I had my stomach pumped out. That’s how I got my start. Nature, nurture, I’m an alcoholic and an addict. I think it was pretty obvious at that point. 

There were lots of things that I had to be drunk to do. One of them was anything to do with the opposite sex. I remember going on a date when I was 14 and we told my parents that we were going to the movies. We did go to the movie theater, which had a parking lot in the back. We parked in the back and my boyfriend had a six pack (I don’t know if he was my boyfriend—he was a boy). We sat in the car and drank and made out, and then it was time for the movie to be over. When the people were streaming out we asked them what it was about so we would have our credible story for my parents. 

To relax, to have fun, to party, I had to be drunk. You know how we are, we want to fit in. Everybody else was doing it and that was that. 

I met somebody and we partied like there was no tomorrow

I’m going to talk about three times when I hit bottom in different ways, to convince you if what I’ve said already hasn’t convinced you that I’m a real alcoholic and addict. Also, I see us speakers’ function a lot of the time is to give hope to newcomers, “Oh my God, if she can get sober I can do it for sure.”

I graduated from high school in 1966, into sex, drugs, rock and roll and the revolution. In 1968 I made my first move to San Francisco, which was a failure but in a lot of ways it was successful. I had dropped out of college and I wanted to go to San Francisco State. They have a really good creative writing department and I wanted to write a great American novel, or something, anyway.

I met somebody and we partied like there was no tomorrow. He didn’t have a real job, I had a job but he didn’t. He didn’t really care how long we stayed out. I had about three, four, five months of literally getting one hour of sleep a night. We’d come in at 5 o’clock in the morning. I’d sleep until 6:00 and then go to work. After months of this I just crashed.

My body couldn’t take it. I got a horrendous case of hepatitis and I had to go home. I flew back to the east coast. I had grown up right outside Washington DC and my parents were still there. I flew home and stayed with them. I was in the hospital for a week. I was really, really sick. Then my sister let me move in with her in Baltimore, where she was going to art school. It was really pathetic because I absolutely could not drink, because my liver was so shot at that point. If anybody’s ever had hepatitis or any kind of liver thing, you take a teaspoon of alcohol and it’s like getting kicked in the side. It really hurt … (To be continued in the July 2021 issue of The Point.)

by Anonymous

These AA folks in the Marin Fellowship I’d started hanging around with professed to not being a glum lot, but I was not in any mood for their kind of sober fun, whatever that looked like. I oozed contempt prior to investigation. Yet I kept coming back. When I found the miracle of sobriety I experienced the joy of which they spoke, as my sponsor guided me. “The old pleasures were gone. They were but memories” (Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 151). When I read these words, I was still drinking at the time. Though sobriety was in my future, it was but a mere speck at the tunnel’s end. The companionship drinking had provided was lost when the court served me a “kick-out order.” No longer did I have a surefire release from care, boredom or worry. Instead these feelings permeated my waking life. 

I attended sober parties with this new attitude and outlook on life. I got involved in 12-Step calls and was asked to sponsor a new man every now and again. As my horizons broadened, so too did my interests in being of service. I was willing to accept life on its terms when I heard the recent end-of-meeting-announcement about a talent show. The Marin Fellowship Intergroup was sponsoring a talent show. All were invited to participate. Due to COVID-19, it was on Zoom. Talk about being rocketed into a fourth dimension, this sounded interesting indeed. What I got was kind of like an updated version of the old TV game show, Hollywood Squares, on steroids – in a good way, well-organized from start to finish.

Talk about being rocketed into a fourth dimension

The tone of the day was set by a songstress who acknowledged she did not have a great voice but she really wanted to share memories from her childhood in songs. She told touching stories about learning verse at her grandma’s knee, turning a ramshackle chicken coop into a clubhouse, and playing bluegrass. A love of music closed her act where it felt like a natural end. In vintage storytelling style, the singing was sparse, punctuating the tales, and then it was done.

Although a Zoom event, the stage was set. So when a popular local singer wowed the audience with her latest new song, it fit with other musicians who followed, each demonstrating their personal favorite tune, including a hit from Frozen. In one case the Zoomers joined the artist in a Cat Stevens song which, if you were old enough to remember, you could not help but welcome the opportunity to belt out a few verses. There was even a surprise visit from the Dynamo Duo of Sonny and Cher (or a couple strongly resembling them). Their duet exhorting the Zoomers to a truth they already held self-evident, that together there “Ain’t no hill or mountain we can’t climb” became the theme of the day’s festivities.

Joy defined the stage. The spoken word offerings ranged from traditional in nature, a set of engaging raptures which would make any long-gone Bard proud, to blank verse realism. I was reminded of the primary purpose of the recovering alcoholic – to carry the message to the one who still suffers.

“Science” also was prominently on display. A group of “researchers,” claiming to have been at one time on staff with National Geographic, presented their findings from prolonged research into the history of the species known as “Herd of Alcoholics.” They were able to conclusively establish that the first drink of the first alcoholic was actually a Crabappletini, shaken, not stirred, from the Fruit of the Tree of Ignorance. 

The monkey is off my back, but the circus is still in town

Any good alcoholic knows the foolishness of drinking on an empty stomach. The aforementioned researchers also described menu offerings available at “AA Burger, a Drive-Through Recovery Hamburger Palace” which their work was funding. This unknown, but up-and-coming fast-food food chain believes its Pink Cloud of Hope or Second-Time Sober burgers will soon be sweetening the palates of those in recovery. They even offer a Half Measure Menu for those intent on continued research. However, they were also quick to caution that the price of the Relapse Meal Deal with its Resentment Burger was very steep, often more demanding than the diner anticipated.

A trio presenting “Log Cabin Blues” ended the day. They reminded us, “Fear is like having faith that things will all go to hell” which harkened to times past, where they lived one day at a time—but that day was always yesterday or tomorrow. On the upbeat side, they proclaimed a truth so often heard: “The monkey is off my back, but the circus is still in town.”

My takeaway of the day was from the artist who shared not her fine art, but her “fun art.” With the promise of hope, she described how sobriety brought art into her life. Her goal in displaying her talent at this event was to carry the message that in sobriety anything was possible, such as achieving an artist’s talent where before there had been none. So much was on display during this Talent Show that it proved beyond any doubt was: we are definitely not a glum lot.