Sunday meeting

I'm just walking into the mini CP meeting on a lovely Sunday evening.
I was planning on writing about what I hoped to get out of it. How
pointless! The question should be, what can I put into this meeting.
With that in mind, its time to get in there.

Chicago Acoustic Tab by Mat Kearney @ Ultimate Guitar Archive

Chicago Acoustic Tab by Mat Kearney @ Ultimate Guitar Archive

Home Delivery

If I ever write a book or a screenplay, my first subject will be my life as a milkman.  The milkman profession is a cross between wholesome, throwback, service work and the Mafia.  In one respect the modern day milkman is carrying on what is generally thought to be a long lost piece of American history.   On the other end of the spectrum are turf battles and food stamp fraud.  I remember my dad telling me about having a shotgun pointed at him by a drunk who mistook him for his neighbor.  They had apparently started a fight the night before and this guy had decided to finish it.  It almost cost my old man his life.  I never really call him my "old man".  I just thought is would sound cool.  At any rate, I might give this Milkman story some more thought.

6s and 7s

I did a blog search on Alcoholics Anonymous and came across this entry on the Reformed Blacks of America site. I'm really impressed by this guy's insight into AA as an outsider.

I recently spoke with a fellow seminary student and we talked about our experiences and requirements in various classes. He told me about the requirements for one of his classes which was to attend an Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting. The particular group with which he was required to interact was at levels 6 and 7 in the 12-step program. After he described the scene of the room and sense of encounter to me, I perked up to receive the conclusive and valuable insight regarding how to deal with the needy. Then he said something that shocked me. “Michael, I felt more accepted and received amongst that group of individuals than I do my own church family.” I was taken aback and jolted. I expected to get valuable insight on how to attend to the needy however I realized that he along with I, had been thrust into an encounter with brokenness for which we very much wanted to be involved. Instead of identifying someone else in their brokenness as though we were observers or onlookers, he and I came to understand that we were as broken as they were and very much in the middle of our own significant struggles.

Discouragingly, he understood that if his church friends did not realize and articulate their struggles, then they, regardless of how much Scripture and doctrine they understood, would be unable to realize and articulate Christ to themselves or others. The capture of our struggles and shame leads to the capture of Christ and our true selves. This is the essential story of the broken believer who rightly conceives of his brokenness. My friend continues to attend the AA meetings, not because he is an alcoholic but because of his desire to participate in uninhibited, pure and honest fellowship.

Tested

Some of the humans I work with are really pissing me off lately. The
ones who work for me aren't doing their jobs. That means I get hassled
by everyone else. Normally I can appease them by teling them I willl
start cracking heads if things don't improve. Now its not enough.
They want me to be a babysitter. I want to say leave me the frack
alone. I guess that isn't an acceptable response if I want to keep my
job. So its time to suck it up and continue taking the heat.

Good talk.

The family drunk

The wife's sister makes me so glad I'm no longer in the middle of the
hell of hating life drunk as much as sober. I just snuck out of
another family gathering where, despite just getting out of jail and
entering treatment, she is sipping on a beer. I'm impressed with her
disregard for the obvios humiliation of it all. The question is
though, why do I give a shit?

Coffee talk.

I realized yesterday that I'm not perfect. This epiphany came to me
whilst having coffee with my first wife. We are supposed to be keeping
the lines of communication open but when she talked about her
frustrations with keeping the house clean and the kids fed I just
wanted to tell her to shut the hell up and stop complaining.
Fortunately before we left I recognized how counter-productive my
attitude was and we were able to discuss ways to reduce her burden.

Friggin funny

I laughed really hard today. I consider that more progress. Maybe I'll cry sometime too and we'll really be getting somewhere. A friend of mine died right in front of me last year and I never shed a tear. I was really depressed and shook up about it but I was a little freaked out that the urge to cry never hit me. Not even when the bagpipes played at his funeral. That should have been enough to break down anyone. Not me. I teared up today though when I was laughing. I can't remember the last time that happened. So I think I'm starting to have normal feelings again. Maybe I'm just starting to have feelings again.

10 Hail Mary's

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. Its been 6 days since my last blog entry.

Its been a weekend of sadness and gratitude. One of my in-laws wound up in the detox at 1800 Chicago with .33 blood alcohol level. This is after she smacked my wife in front of a couple police officers. So she'll have some consequences to deal with. Quite nasty. However the thing I kept thinking about through it all was, "But for the grace of God..." I am so thankful that I don't have to live that way anymore.

In other news...

My music obsession is in full swing. In the past 24 hours I bought two more albums. One by Townes Van Zandt - Nashville Sessions. I can't believe I haven't been aware of this guy until now. He's had an influence on an amazing number of other singer songwriters.

I also just downloaded the latest album from Charlotte Gainsbourg. She's the daughter of the infamous french bad boy singer Serge Gainsbourg. It's damn good. The only problem is that I now have 3,070 songs on my iPod.

My friend Jason and I have continued to hit the open mic's around town. Last Tuesday we played The Chatterbox Pub in South Minneapolis. A much different atmosphere than the artsy cafe's we've played at so far. The main difference is that nobody is really listening at The Chatterbox. At this point in my "career" that is a very good thing.

Proudayou

My wife and my son were complaining yesterday about the fact that I was going to leave them on Easter evening to go to a meeting. Then my daughter stepped in to defend me by saying, "I'm really proud of you dad." It is clear that I am pretty dang lucky. The message I took away was that my family not only wants me around but they are also really thankful for the path I'm on.

My daughter's comment probably had something to do with what she witnessed at the family get together we had Saturday. It started out as a quiet Easter/early birthday party for my son. In the end it was a gathering of slurring drunks. My wife tried to make it clear that we had to get up early Sunday for church so everyone had to leave at a decent time. Apparently decent time means 3:00am to some people. Do I sound bitter? I'm actually not. The experience left me with a lot of gratitude.

The good the bad and the ugly

I had a really great open mic experience this week. I was really relaxed and just had fun with the songs. I played four songs. That's a new record!

My daughter performed in yet another church play this week. She always makes me so proud and she really seems to be having fun.

It was 2 steps forward and one step back on the spousal front. I had the thought during one of the low points that maybe I have multiple personalities. That would explain why one moment I am content and the next I am ragefully discontented. That diagnosis doesn't hold up when I consider I only have this problem when it comes to my marriage. I'm pretty even tempered, low key and laid back with my kids, friends and at work.

Who am I?

Am I a square peg and the life I've chosen a round hole?

Or am I so deluded there is no way I could accurately assess my own situation?

Then again there are periods when everything seems to be just as it
should be. Is this the real me?

All the above?