No Gloves….No Loves

The Easter weekend getaway got off to a rousing start. Up at 6 a.m., on the road at 7 to begin our 3 hour tour….our 3 hour tour.

“The weather started getting rough
The tiny ship was tossed,
If not for the courage of the fearless crew….”

Wrong 3 hour tour. Oops…my bad…

For the actual start of the adventure, check out the blog post my better half published yesterday-

Fun Times by foreverpaused

I will take over where my frustrations began……..

For the past 6 years and some odd months (and believe me, odd is a kind adjective), I have lived in what I consider the country.

-A town of under 30,000.
-No airport.
-Traffic jams occur when horse drawn wagons chip a spindle or something.

It’s a laid back, slow going paradise. I have learned to love it and wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.


I still refuse to switch to the code of wranglers, 10 gallon hats, boots, and
spurs….or camouflage for that matter.

That’s for another story.

I grew up in large cities. Hustle and bustle, road rage, middle fingers, noise and pollution.

Being out of that lifestyle for so long, I have to mentally prepare myself to go back.

My wife hates to drive in the city. I love it.

I honed my driving skills in my teens and twenties driving in Mexico. Which is best described as “Neighborhood NASCAR”.

The trip is going well. As we near the city limits I perk up in the seat, place my hands at 10 and 2, crack my neck and look over at my wife and say,

“Honey….it’s go time. 15 miles until we hit downtown. Hand me my driving gloves!”

She looks up from her phone, smirks, and says,

“Your What?”

“My gloves….get my driving gloves….I’m turning on my city boy driving switch. For complete integration I NEED MY GLOVES! They are in your ‘glove box’….”

“You NEED to not drive my new vehicle like an idiot. Driving gloves? You mean those mittens with the fingers cut off that were hidden behind the owners manual? Weren’t those the ones our daughter used when she was imitating Madonna? I put those back in her room this morning.” Then she chuckles and says as she returns to posting from her phone,

“Driving gloves….”

I start to pout and reply,

“But…but…how can I drive in the city without my gloves? I can’t flip the switch without them….”

She gives me “the look” and says with finality,

“There will be no flip switching, no car flipping, no switch flipping or flipping cars…if I see one motorist flipping you the finger for your “city driving” skills you will be flipping channels from the sofa while I sleep in the bed…got it?”

“But we have full coverage…can’t I Dukes of Hazzard it just once?”

“Your driving is already a hazard….to my sanity. Please, just drive like a normal person.”

“Yes, dear.” I say as I always do.

As I think to myself,

“Next time, I keep the gloves in my back pocket….that way when it’s time to show the love….I got the gloves!”



The Coming


Clear skies slink away
Dark clouds creep with the wind
The rumble from within warns
Flashes of light walk the land
Before the storm introduces
The coming cleanse.

Poem by-Me
Photo taken by Jonathan Oplotnik and sent to our local newspaper.

-I cannot take credit for things I have not done.

After The Lightning


Weather or not

The lightning is indiscriminate
In the damage it leaves
Property destroyed
Lives in the balance
The start over must begin
Humans rebuild on faith
Nature is its own God.


Photo taken at a roadside stand in middle Texas. The building was hit by lightning. All was lost. His is starting over.

The human condition in full effect.


The Pickpocket Putback Principle

The pickpocket pilfers the pockets of the plenty,
placing packages onto his person to please his perverted pleasure.

Podering perhaps that his pathway to pain is predestined,
He proceeds to place packages pointlessly INTO the pockets of pedesrtrians and passersby.

Thereby pouncing the predicament of prison….

Say all that 10 times fast…but just watch the video once.

I know I am not much of a poetry person, but please be polite….

For some reason I gotta go “P”.

The 3


I have 3 characters that I have chummed up with for most of my life. Our relationship came to fruition during our high school years.

One of them disappeared for quite a few years but we eventually met up again.

They all read this blog, so for purposes of anonymity I will use alias’s for them.

Their names are-


I am sure we have always been around each other in some

Shape or

But we really got to know each other during our sophomore year of high school in 1985.

It was at a bar in Mexico called “The Tequila Derby”.

My older brother took us there as a rite of passage.

About midway through the evening and 6 Coronas later, my 3 friends, started gabbing endlessly to me.

EGO- “Now that we have relaxed, let’s go hit on some chicks we have no shot with….look…there’s that cheerleader who gives you the dreamy eyes….SHE’S DANCING ON THE TABLE!! She is ours for the taking!”

PRIDE-“Finally…we made it. No more feeling left out. We can just sit here and drink a beer just like everyone else and not be judged. Finally.”

He would say with his chest puffed out and sitting tall.

EXPERIENCE- “You know….this is fun and all…..but remember you saying you were NEVER gonna drink alcohol because of your Dad?”

Experience was always the party pooper.

I would look at him with a smirk and reply,

“Can’t we just have a good time without thinking about consequences? I mean look at pride and ego….they are in Utopia! I’m gonna go talk to the cheerleader, you just sit here and enjoy your club soda if you want. The 3 of us are gonna get down and party.”

And so it began.

Experience went home early. And we would not see him for many years.

Ego, pride and I stayed until 4 a.m.

And we were attached at the hip for the next ten years.

Doing whatever we wanted, when we wanted, how we wanted.

Of course, we eventually had to get jobs to support our drinking and partying habits.

PRIDE and EGO came to the rescue again.

EGO-“Dudes…..I have a plan. In order to keep up this awesome lifestyle, we need cash…..we would make great…..BARTENDERS!!”

PRIDE-“Nice, Ego. Not only would that supplement our “no” income status….but with our superb listening skills we will be able to help our customers with their problems…..and maintain our stays as party pros. We ARE good at what we do.”

ME-“Maybe we should go back to school and get some higher education… I really wish Experience was still around….”

EGO & Pride (in unison)-“Bah…he’s a blowhard…no fun…how about….BARTENDER SCHOOL!!”

A few years later, Experience showed back up and hung around a while.

EXPERIENCE-“Glad to see you are all able to hold down a job for a while…and married. Wow! Thought I would see if I was needed for anything….and word on the streets is you are thinking about trying cocaine….”

EGO-“We can handle it. Word has it we could drink more…and longer with it!”

PRIDE- ” Plus….we can’t let everyone else have all the fun. We need to keep up with the crowd.”

Me-“sure a lot of people are using it but does that mean we have to?”

EXPERIENCE-“Didn’t I hear you say once that you would never try cocaine because you heard people died from it?”

EGO-“We said that about booze too…and LOOK AT US NOW!”

ME-“You are right, Ego…just a little couldn’t hurt…….”

EXPERIENCE-“I gotta go…”

The drug years began.

It was fun until it wasn’t.

I never wanted to NEED a substance. Now I needed 2.

That need carried me into




And finally to AA and living quarters at a halfway house.

I had been sober for 3 months…and 45 days of rehab time. I don’t count that time….my choice. When there was a knock on my bedroom door.

ME-“Who is it?”

EXPERIENCE-“Just open the door.”

I did, and I saw my old friend. Only he looked different. He was standing tall and was in great shape.

Me-“Holy Crap! Look at you! Where and how have you been?”

EXPERIENCE- “I’ve been good and I have been gone. It’s good2begone. I have been in the stands of your life for years. It’s time I took over the field. Aren’t you tired of those 2 buffoons, Ego and Pride running stuff for you?…I mean look at them….They treat you like a blip in that video game “Pong”. Back and forth, back and forth. You have been doing the same thing over and over for years and expecting something different each time. You are insane!”

Me-“I’m trying.”

EXPERIENCE-“You aren’t trying. All you are doing is blowing smoke up the bunghole of the world. Ask someone for help to stay sober and I can become your best friend in life….Don’t worry, Ping and Pong over there will always be there for you, just in a different capacity.”

Me-“Well, what do I do?”

EGO & PRIDE tried to chime in. Before they could utter a complete sentence, EXPERIENCE had picked up an old encyclopedia off the desk and ripped it in half. Throwing each a piece of it and said,

“Zip it. We need change here not the riff raff of you two idiots.”

They skunked back into the corner with pouty faces.

He looked back at me and spoke,

“Let’s go the next meeting and find a sponsor and ask him to help us. Then we do as he suggests and nothing else.”

We went to the next meeting.

As we walked into the room Experience nudged me and whispered into my ear,

“There’s your sponsor. All you have to do is ask.”

After the meeting I did ask him to be my sponsor, with tears in my eyes.

He looked me up and down and said,

“I knew you were gonna ask. I tried to leave early but obviously didn’t make it. Yeah, I will be your sponsor. My first suggestion is to shut up in meetings for 30 days. Don’t talk. Just listen. I will tell you when you are ready to speak. Suggestion 2-start praying every morning asking God to keep you sober, and at night thanking him for keeping you sober.”

Me-“But I have so much to say…I know a lot of stuff! And I don’t pray…God hates me.”

Sponsor-“That is just your ego and pride talking and i don’t care if you think God hates you, just do it. You know nothing about staying Or being sober. Just call me every day, until further notice, and listen in meetings…got it? Pretty soon you will realize that your past experience can and will become your bigger asset and not a hindrance as it has been. I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow.”

I went back to my room at the halfway house.

For the first time, in a long time, I felt real change coming.

It’s been a little over 6 years since PRIDE & EGO took a back seat in my life. They still flare up, every now and then, but EXPERIENCE keeps a firm hold on the future.

The Weight Is Over

Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
I walk as far as they need to recover
For how long? (ha!)

I want to carry a piece of who I was before
So when I hit the wall, I really hit the wall
I want to tear away the death again
A whiter shade of fucking meth again
I want to stick to clues, I want to come unglued
I want to shape the world to fit the way you move
Oh, should I listen for a dress size?

I owned up, I’ve grown up, do you remember me?
I showed up and so what if I’m the used to be
I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry I was sorry
But I’m happy that you’re happiness is no longer about me

Trade rules, switch sides for your beautiful eyes
Let him be you through your beautiful cries
Let him hold you up so you can touch affordable skies
Live your life just like a dream
Without the pain of goodbyes

Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
I walk as far as they need to recover
For how long?

I been a drunk disrespectful little street punk
Unlock the back of my trunk
You see, you take this bat
And bash my head into the street again
No-ones around so I keep beating it

Pull my hair back, look me in the eye
There’s a self-destructive meaning in the bleeding of a guy
It’s the guilt of what reality has given me

Making sense of all mistakes and my stupidity
And when you’re sick you seem to think
You’ve failed eternally

And that the people you let in are only crumbling
When you’re sick of thinking life in this recovery
When my decision paved the road
That lies in front of me

So to my friends that even call but I don’t call back
I want you deep inside my heart upon a hill
It seems to hide sometimes and run away and wonder
I’m really sick of saying sorry but I will

Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
I walk as far as they need to recover
For how long?

But are we scared to take the ride?
Or dare to look inside?
I’m floating far away (far away)
I’m floating far away (leaving home)
I’m floating far away (so far away)
I’m floating far away

I want to learn to walk with others as an equal
I want to treat the ones who love me with respect
I want to tell the world I’ll give them all a piggyback
And try to take away my negative effect
I want to kiss the girl, I know I’ll never lie again
I want to call my dad and tell him that I care
I want to let my brother know
He saved my life a thousand times
Throughout the years he’s been my friend
Who’s always there

Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?

Lyrics by Blue October

Song title-Overweight

Yeah….I get this.


No More Secrets-The Story


I was around 10 years old and was living my “normal” childhood.

By “normal”, I mean, I had no other to compare it to….so to me it was normal.

School, soccer, and playing with my friends were all I did.

Too young to get a job, too old for a babysitter.

It was a good time to be a kid.

Every once in a while, I would hang out with a kid I knew.

His parents and my parents were in the bar business.

Lets call him born2bebad.

He was my rebel buddy. His parents were always gone. So he did what he wanted and only had to answer to his 2 older sisters. They were 17 and 16.

I would stay at his house every once in a while.

One Friday night I stayed over. He fell asleep about 11 p.m. I always stayed up late to watch the scary shows, so I was wide awake watching ‘The Twilight Zone”.

Around midnight the oldest sister came home.

She came in and saw her brother asleep on the floor. She looked at me and said,

“You are up late.”

I replied,

“Yeah, I’m not tired so I am just watching TV.”

She smiled and said,

“You wanna play a game with me?”

I looked up from the show and said,

“Sure, should I wake born2bebad up?”

“No,” she replied, “he is a heavy sleeper. This is just a you and me game. Follow me.”

I followed her…..

Right into her parents bedroom.

She shut the door behind us and preceded to take the covers back on the bed.

She completely undressed and got under the covers.

I was 10. The only naked females I had seen were when I sneaked a peek at a nudie mag in the convenience store while with her brother, born2bebad.

I froze. She looked at me and said,

“Don’t be afraid. Just take off your clothes and get in bed with me. Then I will tell you what to do.”

I did not know what was going On. All I knew, is that his sister was always nice to me and never tried to harm me.

I did as she asked.

Then she positioned me on top of her and began to gyrate.

I was still frozen.

Naked but frozen.

She would tell me what she wanted me to do in between her moans and I would do them.

After it was over she helped me put my clothes back on and asked me to keep this a secret. Maybe we could do it again if I did that.

Then she laid a kiss on my mouth.

And not the kind of kiss my Mom would give me.

Keep it quiet? Who would believe me if I told them?

I did keep the secret. Every time I stayed over there, after that, I fought to stay awake until she got home.

Sometimes we played. Sometimes she already had a playmate who was her age.

Fast forward>>


I am in AA and working with my sponsor at the time.

He says, “Have you ever done a moral inventory?”

I look at him with my best sour face and reply,

“I don’t have any morals…what do you think got me here? Aren’t you supposed to help me find them?”

“No…you are going to find them.”


The dreaded 4th step.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

Followed, by the even more dreaded 5th Step.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

Every one I know who is working or has worked the steps has a secret that they believe is going to the grave with them.

The story I started this post with was my secret.

As I grew from a child to a man. That event altered from just a secret into


As the years went on, the black hole it created in my soul just….I don’t know, it just.

I wasn’t telling fucking nobody this.


If I truly believed that the steps could and would change me….then I had to be honest with everything.

And I did believe.

So I admitted it to God and my sponsor during the 5th Step process.

And because of that. I found out some truths about myself.

I can tell that story because it holds no power over me and maybe….just maybe someone who reads this might need to hear it.

Secrets made me who I was.

The longer I keep past secrets, the less chance I have to recover from alcoholism.

Alcohol is but a symptom.

The disease centers in the mind.

Revealing them to God and someone I believe is there to help, me made me who I am today.

Don’t fear the steps.

Trust the process.

It’s good to be sober.

I’m still good2begone.

Link to daily prompt click here.


I feel nostalgic.

I’m going to take a trip into the “Chamber Of Early Sobriety” and spin a yarn about one of my debacles….I mean learning experiences as I was just a monthling in the life without booze and mind altering substances.

Won’t you join me?

When I lived at the halfway house I was like the Messiah of Misfit Soberlings.

That even SOUNDS awesome doesn’t it?

The easiest way to explain that moniker is-

I was one of the few who remained sober while living at this particular sober living home. So I was the go 2 guy to the newbies at the house. The general idea was if you wanted to stay sober, then just hang around me and my aura of soberness would somehow transfer to you by osmosis or something.

I lived there 10 months. In that time I had 26 different house members who moved out to beat the sober out of themselves by drinking or using again.

Being the Messiah held great responsibility.

My mind continually told me how great I was.

It only took one incident to change me from Messiah to just another guy trying to stay sober.

My first 12 Step Call……..



“Is this good2begone? I really need to talk to him…”

“Why yes it is. You just caught me. I was about to leave to see if the local church needed me to baptize anyone. What can I do for you, lost one.”

I was actually watching reruns of-

But I had an image to uphold.

“I need to talk to someone about trying to stop using again. I used to live at the house with you….I trust you. Can you help me?”

“Why don’t you just meet me at the meeting….it like an hour away.”

“I can’t wait that long. I NEED to see you. Can’t you just come to the hotel I’m staying at.”

I saw the red flag go up. But I saw it as my cape being handed to me from above.


“Look, Robin! It’s the sober signal. It’s time to save someone! To the batmobile!”

Only there was no Robin…..and I lived at a halfway house. There was no Batmobile………I didn’t even have a bike to pedal.

I had to beat the pavement with my Chuck Taylor’s.

“Yeah. I will be there. Give me :30 minutes.”

And I hung up and hit the streets.

Something in the back of my head kept telling me,


But hey…I’m the Messiah. I got this.

I show up at the hotel door, Big Book in hand, and knock.

I sensed something was amuck with my plan.

I heard furniture being moved around.

The door opened and my old roomie stood there in his boxers….bottle ‘o vodka in one hand…..crack pipe in the other.

I went in and he shut the door behind me and then jumped in the bed.

I sat on the chair on the opposite side of the room.

Then he spoke….as he took a drag off his glass pipe.

“So, how long have you been sober?”

“About 8 months….why am I here again?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Well….your not talking…you are getting trashed and I’m getting uncomfortable. I think I better go…”

“No wait wait wait. I have to ask you something….”


“Have you ever been with a man, before?”

I chuckled.

“You asked me here to see if you get your rocks off?….Dude, I’m out.”

And before things got way out of hand I got up and left.

There is reason why going on 12 step calls is more than a 1 person deal.

Once again,

I chose to find out the hard way.

It’s still good2begone.

Still sober. Still learning.

Smart Rant


This is a “smart watch” or at least a prototype of one.

It does everything a-




…..Does. Except you strap it to your wrist with a harness.

Do we really need any mores smart objects to make us look and act less….


Besides haven’t we tried the smart watch before?

Hmmm….let me ponder that for a second….

Or oven better use my smart phone to produce an image of the last attempt…


Yeah……remember that piece of technological genius. It had the illuminator AND a calculator. How have we made it since that disappeared?

Isn’t it about time we just let a watch be a watch.

Just a quick rant.

My phone has just reminded me that it is time to go back to work.

I used to use watch….. but who wants to wants to waste those precious milliseconds having to raise your wrist and turn it towards your eyes to read the time when I can just have my phone tell me.

It’s good2begone….and that’s why I go.