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.