ConstantCommentary® Vol. I, No. 4, October 23, 1997

So Sue Me . . .

by Mike Jasper


Drunks say the darnedest things

I had arrived. After two years of rigorous sobriety, I was finally asked to speak at the Sunday night meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

"Hello, my name's Mike and I'm an alcoholic."
"Hi Mike," everybody said back to me.
"The best thing I can say about my drinking is that I didn't have sex with a domestic animal," I started. "But all I'm really telling you guys is that I never got drunk on a farm."

Big laugh, thank god. I cruised through the night.

Alcoholic's Anonymous, AA for short, kept me sober and thoroughly entertained for more than two years in Sebastopol, California. I had been introduced to the meetings by way of the state judicial system. Two drunk driving tickets and a Sebastopol cop who haunted my every waking day convinced me to keep up my membership.

So I did the AA thing: Went to meetings, conferences, all night coffee klatches at Mary's Pizzeria, read the Big Book, worked the 12-steps, talked the talk and walked the walk. I... was... into it. And I stayed into it for two reasons:

1) I knew my drinking had escalated to the point where it was alienating my friends, threatening my career, and ruining my health, and...

2) Sober girls were easy. Who knew?

There was another reason I continued to go to meetings: it was fun. AA was filled with weird people, like me.

One of my favorite AA characters was a guy I called Gangster Frank. He was a big, burly, Italian guy with the air of a made man, the soul of a Labrador retriever, and the social skills of Dan Quayle. We'd have these heart-to-wiseass conversations and it was all I could do not to laugh.

He'd tell me about his drinking escapades, sincerity oozing from every word. Every story ended with him taking his pants off at some social gathering and dangling his "memorabilia" for all to see. "So they'd see me coming to the bar, and they could tell I was drunk and in a shitty mood," Gangster Frank said, "And then they'd say, 'Well, here comes Dr. Heckle.'"

He wasn't my main man, though. It was another Frank, Texan Frank, who really helped me get into the swing of AA. Texan Frank became my AA sponsor and showed me the ins and outs of the "program of Alcoholics Anonymous."

An AA sponsor, for those who don't know, is someone who makes sure you're getting laid often enough so you don't have the energy to drink. At least that's how my sponsor operated.

One day Texan Frank decided I wasn't talking enough at regular meetings, so he took me to a men's meeting. "Now, there's no one to impress here, Jasper, so you make sure you share something tonight." That's a word AA people like to use, "share." In the real world, talking about your miserable-ass life is called boring, but in AA it's called sharing. Anyway, I shared that night. The subject was about our "higher power," a kind of customized god. Your higher power could be the Judeo-Christian god, or it could be a rubber chicken on the far side of Mars -- it was up to you.

"Yes sir, do you have something you'd like to share about your higher power tonight?" the speaker asked me.

"My higher power keeps encouraging me to stay sober, even though he drinks."

Nice long pause.

"I mean, he's a higher power, so he has the power to do anything, right? Mine has a drink now and then."

Texan Frank nearly swallowed his cigarette. He didn't push me to share so much after that.

Another time he and I were at a meeting and a guy in a wheel chair said, "If it weren't for my higher power, I wouldn't have a leg to stand on." We avoided eye contact for the next 47 minutes and left with badly bitten tongues.

One night I went to a meeting in a different town (Forestville), hoping to find some new sober women to hit on. At least 100 people came to the meeting and there wasn't one new face in the crowd. I was displeased and sulked in the back row. I decided to share that night and I decided to do so as a parody of a "bleeding deacon", the nickname we had for rigid, higher-power-fearing, Big Book thumpers.

I just want to say that, like all of you, I am traveling this road, and it is only by the grace of god --a nd we have no idea whether it's a just god or a jealous god or an angry god -- but god is leading me down this road as he is leading all of us down this road and we do not know whether it will take us to the summit of the mountain or the crest of the wave, but we must follow this god even if it is into the hell of our own lives.

There was a stunned silence, the kind of silence reserved for the very profound and the truly bizarre. The spell was broken by Gangster Frank's voice booming from the third row.

"Amen, brother, amen."

AA members have their own special code and way of speaking. For example, no AA member will tell another that they're full of shit. Instead they say, "Keep coming back." I heard "Keep coming back" about 19 times as I left the Forestville meeting that night.

I wasn't the worst offender, believe it. On Tuesdays, there was a meeting run by an anal, yuppie, Aryan, Prince Charles-looking motherfucker whose favorite AA motto was, "A good meeting starts on time and ends on time." Translation: you only get one cigarette during the break. I despised him, although I loved him in that very special way AA members do.

Anyway, I was looking forward to another boring meeting, but... the higher power is a drinker, is he not? Right before the break, Prince Charles said, "We have two minutes remaining. Does anyone have something they'd like to share quickly?" From the back row came this rapid-fire voice:

Well, my name's Darrin, and I nearly got kicked out of my apartment today and I know it's because of the music. I like disco and rhythm and blues, show music really. Anyway, I'm forced to answer the door, cause I know she's there, my landlord that is, and she doesn't want me to live there because.... wooooo.... well, I answered the door in a black bra and panties and I know that's not what my higher power wants for me, but I'm doing everything I can to stop cross-dressing and thank you, I just needed to share that.

Another stunned silence. I turned around in my seat, a little too loudly I guess, and beamed at The Prince. Now whatcha gonna do? I thought. He glared at me and finally said, "Thank you, we're going to take a short break and be right back." Got two cigarettes that night.

The best meeting of all was the night Gangster Frank, Dwight and sober little me took the gospel of AA to the local nuthouse. We were led to a room of four people. Three of them ignored us, but one guy was animated and couldn't wait to hear about AA.

"I only have one or two drinks tops," he said. "Could I still have a problem?"

"It has more to do about how it makes you feel than how much you actually drink," Dwight said "Do you drink every day?" The man said he did not. "Well, I'd just be careful and watch yourself for a few days," Dwight said. "See if you can quit for three weeks, that's a good test."

The man seemed greatly relieved and listened to Frank read from the Big Book, AA's guide to sobriety. After a moment, he raised his hand again.

"Did I tell you guys I'm a diagnosed schizophrenic?" he asked.
Frank, Dwight and I looked at each other.
"You're schizophrenic?"
"Yes," the man said, "and my other personality, well he drinks like a fish..."

We decided that his "drinking" personality should start going to AA, and he should start going to Alanon.

Those were the days. Since 1989, I've been in and out of AA and got five years sober -- but not in a row. I still keep in touch with Texan Frank and I hear Gangster Frank's got a new girlfriend. But I'm not going to meetings anymore and, yes, I am drinking occasionally. Do I have a problem? I don't think so. Am I an alcoholic? Hell, yeah.

I know, I know. Keep coming back.


* * *

How about a 12-step program for the rest of us: Sober Anonymous? I can see it now...

"My name's Mike Jasper and I haven't been sober since.... hmmm.... well, a real long time. Now I will read the 12 steps of SA."

The 12 Steps of Sober Anonymous

1)

We admitted that we had quit drinking, yet we called ourselves alcoholics.

2)

Came to see the irony in that.

3)

Made a decision to turn our will and our life over to whoever happened to be sitting at the barstool next to us.

4)

Made a list of people we had harmed and those we had meant to harm but had not yet found the time to harm.

5)

Harmed them.

6)

Asked our higher power to rid us of all our self-righteous attitudes.

7)

Made a list of drinking buddies we had avoided in the past.

8)

Bought them a drink.

9)

Made a decision to quit whining.

10)

Made a decision to start wining and dining.

11)

Made a list of all the alcoholic beverages we meant to drink, but didn't.

12)

Drank them.

And, of course, we'd have slogans: "Drink, Drink, Drink" "Expect An Hallucination" "This Olive Too Shall Pass" "One Drink At A Time" "Keep The Barback Coming" "One Drink's Not Enough, A Thousand Might Do For The Weekend" "Don't Leave Before The Buzz Happens" "Taking A Trip, Not Taking A Trip, We Swallowed Mushrooms, Let's Just See What Happens" "Rehab, Schmeehab"

And my personal favorite: I LOVE YOU MANNNNNNNN!!!!!!!

It could happen.

* * *

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 1997 by Mike Jasper.