Sorry I've been absent so much in recent months. I just haven't felt motivated to write. I still plan to pick things back up sometime soon, although I don't know exactly when . . .
In the meantime, I wish everyone a happy and prosperous 2007.
If I don't post this, I won't have a single entry for November. So here it is . . .
I can hardly believe it's been an entire month since my last post. I'm not sure what caused me to run out of steam. Maybe the changing seasons.
After I finish this brief "check-in" post, I'll be laying low again for awhile - probably until this cool, refreshing autumn air progresses to the frigid, dark days of the long Michigan winter.
While I'm here, I could write about the World Series-bound Detroit Tigers . . . or my caffeine relapse (I lasted about eight weeks) . . . or my new job which, with any luck, will soon be my former job.
But since I made my loyal readers wait such a long time for a post, I guess I'll reward them with something a bit deeper, and more candid.
Here, then, are some personal factoids previously unknown to the public:
1. My favorite melon is most certainly the cantaloupe.
2. I've never cared for the sound of the vibraphone in jazz music.
3. My dog and I sometimes lie naked together in bed, but it's never progressed beyond cuddling.
Wow, that was quite cathartic, indeed!
Be back in a few weeks.
Awhile back, I wrote about seeing Dave Brubeck perform in Ann Arbor. Just for fun, here's a clip, courtesy YouTube, of the classic line-up playing their signature tune, Take Five, on television in 1961.
Pope Benedict XVI says he regrets that Muslims were offended by his recent remarks, but he stops short of apologizing for the remarks.
Would it have helped if the offended parties had read the entire speech, rather than taking a few sentences out of context? It seems that the violent reaction among some Muslims, including the firebombing of churches, only serves to reinforce the Pope's point - that faith without reason is trouble.
Continued from A New Life - Part V
The Salvation Army Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC) provided me with just the right amount of structure necessary in those early days of recovery. It helped that I was at an above-average ARC (the relatively new facility in Romulus, MI - pictured at right) which was under especially good management at the time.
The ARC program is six months long. There is no charge for services; funding is provided through donations and sales of items in the thrift stores. There is also a lot of free labor in the ARC - residents are required to complete 40 hours of Work Therapy per week, in various positions related to donated items (e.g. receiving, processing, and merchandising), or doing janitorial or kitchen work in the ARC itself. When not doing Work Therapy, residents participate in individual and group counseling sessions, as well as other didactic programming, chapel services, and Bible study.
There is plenty of free time as well, in the evening and on weekends. We had a ping-pong table, a pool table, a library with computers (plenty of software, but no Internet), and four TV rooms, not including the big-screen TV in the main recreation area. In good weather we also had a basketball court, volleyball, and a small driving range with donated golf clubs and balls.
The second floor included bedrooms and showers. It was here that the country club vibe gave way to more of a military feel. Each bedroom housed five or six men. Every man had a cot, a night stand with two drawers, and a locker. Upon intake to the facility, everyone received a voucher for clothing to be obtained at the adjacent thrift store, including a suit of spiffy Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes for chapel. In addition to our "new" garb, we were given a shaving kit and a pocket-size, paperback New Testament. Then we were sent off to shave, shower, and make ourselves look presentable for a change. I had already been sober for about five weeks, so I came in clean as a whistle, but the majority of new recruits were a bit grungy.
We were required to keep our hair short enough that it didn't touch our shirt collars. That's another thing - all of our shirts had to have collars and be tucked into our pants. And forget about facial hair, except a well-trimmed mustache.
Work Therapy assignments began the first full day of the program, i.e. the day following intake. I lucked out and got assigned to a Stores position. These thrift store jobs were highly desired. The work involved sweeping and mopping the sales floor, arranging furniture and other merchandise, and occasionally assisting customers. It was far easier than working in the warehouse.
The massive warehouse was behind the thrift store, and provided Work Therapy assignments for around 70% of the ARC residents, including most newbies. Donations were picked up from homes and other drop-off locations by drivers, some of whom were residents, and brought to the warehouse for processing. The majority of most truckloads consisted of clothing donations, which were processed on a conveyor belt. At the beginning of the line was the Bag-Buster. He tore open the garbage bag, often dusty from months of sitting in someone's musty garage, and scattered the clothes on the belt. Beside the dust and smell of unwashed clothing, there were sometimes bugs, and occasionallyaccidently donated lawn clippings. Next came a long line of Sorters, who picked out garments deemed resellable. Whatever clothing didn't make the cut ended up in a huge bailing machine, where it was compacted into half-ton cubes and, as I recall, sold to some other company which picked it up and trucked it down to Mexico.
My adjustment to the ARC program was made a good deal easier by the spiritual awakening I experienced shortly after my arrival, which I outlined in the previous My Story installment. The experience produced such an upheaval that much of my worldview was turned around 180 degrees in a matter of days. As I began to look at life through the eyes of faith, I had to discard many long-held opinions for new ones. But despite the dramatic changes taking place, I felt a profound sense of peace and joy.
I now felt I had a much stronger armor to defend me against the slings and arrows of early recovery. And I would need all the help I could get - the next year would bring some of the biggest challenges of my life.
While you're all on the edge of your seats in anticipation of the latest fun-filled installment of My Story, let me hip you to some of the better films I've seen lately.
Now, when I say lately, I mean the last year or so, since we only rent or go a movie every three weeks or so.
I tend to prefer small comedy-dramas to epic, action-packed, spectacles. With that in mind, here are some favorite rentals of recent months:
Continued from A New Life - Part IV
During my first two weeks at the Salvation Army's Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC), I was restricted to the facility and surrounding property. I was immediately given a Work Therapy assignment in the adjacent Thrift Store - but when my first weekend arrived, I realized I had a lot of time on my hands.
When I had been in jail, in my boredom I made to-do lists, including one of books I wanted to read once I got out. When I didn't know of a title, I wrote a description of the type of book I would seek, such as, "a book describing Christianity from a scientific perspective". What I had in mind in that particular case was not Christian Science, but traditional Christian doctrine presented in a manner that would be palatable to the modern reader who takes for granted a scientific viewpoint of the universe.
As a youth, I had accepted at face value the doctrine and theology I had learned. Then, in my high school and college years, I had welcomed the common objections to Christian doctrine with enthusiasm, having already abandoned the Church. I had outgrown my childish understanding of spiritual matters, and had never bothered to seek out a more complex understanding. Now, for the first time, I found myself wishing vaguely that I could find a mature faith - an adult conception of God.
After all, I was in a Christian-based rehab, where I would be expected to attend religious programming, including Chapel services twice per week. I wanted to believe in Christ, not only in order to feel more comfortable at the ARC, but because I found myself drawn to Christ's teachings, as I understood them. I just couldn't get past the idea of a bodily resurrection - the idea that this Jesus person was the Son of God and actually rose from the dead. If the resurrection story was not true, then what, if anything, in the Bible could be believed?
Regular readers of this blog are aware of my ongoing struggle with caffeine addiction. I've sunk so low that my days are spent consuming mass quantities of that hideous substance known as Diet Mountain Dew.
Until six days ago, that is.
I'm pleased to announce I've gone nearly a week without a drop of caffeine. This is rather exciting to me, as caffeine was the last substance on which I was dependent. Sure, I've gone longer than six days without caffeine -for over a month on a few occasions - but that's why I'm informing the whole blogosphere of my intentions this time around: it's an extra incentive to stay quit.
Also, I haven't blogged in eight days, as one loyal reader (my wife) pointed out, and I couldn't think of anything else to write. Perhaps it's the withdrawal symptoms (mental sluggishness, drowsiness) that have kept me from posting for so long.
If I'm feeling up to it, I'll probably have another My Story installment in a day or two.
I'm not much of a sports fan, but I always enjoy seeing a local team doing well. It's especially fun to watch this season's Detroit Tigers, who have unexpectedly dominated the entire league. Tonight I watched them take out the Red Sox, 7-4, to end a five game losing streak.
The Tigers have only won the World Series once in my lifetime (in the stellar 1984 season). This year certainly looks promising . . . a Series in '06 would be all the sweeter considering how poorly they've performed in recent seasons.
It was fairly cool outside this evening, so I kept the AC off, let the fan blow a breeze through the house, and watched the last few innings. If only Ernie Harwell had been on the radio, it would've been the quintessential Michigan summer night.
Most experts on the matter believe that a genetic predisposition is among the factors contributing to addiction. Not everyone finds this easy to accept, however, as is discussed in this post at Addiction and Recovery News.
I'm very pleased to report that my two-week-old nephew was finally released from the hospital on Saturday. He was going downhill for his first several days, and ended up on a ventilator due to his difficulty breathing. He's much better now, thanks to the medical staff of Sparrow Hospital in Lansing, MI, and all of you who kept him in your thoughts and prayers.
Continued from A New Life - Part III
After a couple weeks in the slammer, I was granted a personal bond by the court, following my preliminary hearing. I was facing charges of Impaired Driving (2nd offense), and Possession of Cocaine. This was, without a doubt, the most legal trouble I had ever been in.
During my stay in the pokey, I'd had plenty of time to mull over my options for what to do when I got out. But I didn't really need to ponder very much - I knew I needed to go to one of the Salvation Army's Adult Rehabilitation Centers (ARCs). I had a friend in the recovery community who'd recently completed the six-month ARC program, and he was in the best shape I'd ever seen him in. I figured if the ARC could help this friend of mine, it could help me as well. But, with no job and no place to live, my options were limited anyway. I needed a free roof over my head.
Continued from A New Life - Part II
This post consists of some memories of the two weeks I was held in Wayne County Jail. This was technically at the beginning of my recovery, although I didn't have a very strong sense at the time that I was getting better. It felt as though I was trapped at the bottom, and might finally be down for the count.
As is noted somewhere in AA's Big Book, "How dark it is before the dawn!"
I wrote this entry in bits and pieces over the past couple weeks. I had a hard time staying focused on these memories - being relatively recently, the pain and misery are still fresh. I hope to get the next installment of this series up soon.
As seasons go, I've always been partial to autumn. I enjoy moderate weather best. When it comes to temperature extremes, I fare the worst in the heat. Michigan may not be as bad off as southern California, but we've been in the 90s regularly of late, and that's too hot for me. It's like an oven out there!
(Specifically, it's like the inside of an oven - one that's been turned on, and allowed to heat up to an uncomfortable temperature. In other ways, it's not really like an oven at all.)
Of course, it's not the heat, it's the humidity. Am I right? Heh heh.
Lucky for me, there is air-conditioning of one type or another almost anyplace I go. My work is cool in most areas. Our car is not only air-conditioned, but shaded by the garage. Our house does not have central air, but the window unit kicks out the breeze very well. I would gladly give up television before the A.C. Right now, it's one of our most important possessions.
Now that I'm thinking about it, I guess I'd rather have air conditioning than a bed to sleep on. I'd rather be cool on the floor than sweating on the mattress. I'd probably even get rid of Internet service before air. I could always go online at the library, as I've had to do in the past. How 'bout you, readers? How important is air conditioning to you?