SEE IF YOU CAN IDENTIFY THE SHIFT IN TONE

Well, for the first time in awhile (save for one year when I went to my parents' house) I saw in the new year as sober as a rock. I went with a friend named W____ to an Alano Club in Waterford. An Alano club is a place in which people who struggle with addictions can go to celebrate holidays or, during a normal day, just go and relax.

There was a spread of food on the table, but I didn't eat any. (Gotta watch my girlish figure, don'tcha know.) There was neverending coffee of which I took great advantage. They had pool tables but I didn't play because there was a tournament going on at all three tables.

There was karaoke and I sang "Alabama Song," by the Doors. You know the one: "Oh show me the way to the next whiskey bar/ Oh show me the way to the next whiskey bar/ Oh don't ask why/ Oh don't ask why." That could have been what some in the business call a "trigger," but, fuck it. If my singing "Alabama Song" horrendously makes someone "go out" again, that's on his or her shoulders, not mine.

Trigger!

There were also meetings downstairs at the top of every hour. W____ and I went to two. The first sucked because I couldn't hear a damn thing about half of the people were saying. I have an idea, folks--If you're going to share with the group, make sure that you speak above a whisper, raise your head so that you're not speaking to your chest and don't talk as if a room 20 feet by 30 feet is a room 10 feet by 4 feet. Vocalize or don't share. Thanks. The second meeting was better.

So, the new year was rung in, noisemakers were utilized, hands were shaken and hugs were given. We left shortly after midnight, but the festivities were scheduled to go on all night until 12 noon on the 1st. It's called an Alcothon, and it's utilized during "trigger holidays."

I dropped W____ off at her house and then I took off down the rainswept streets for home. I saw cops sitting on the side of the road, in the darkness, like the poaching spiders that they are. I flashed my brights at them whenever possible, and tried to point them out with my turn signals, so that if anyone had had a few too many and was driving behind me, they would hopefully see the pigs, thus eliminating the element of surprise. I saw a cop, flashers cycling, who had pulled a Honda Civic over and I made sure to shine my brights at him. It was tough to focus the lights on him, but I swerved a bit and made it work. Hell, they do it to us when they pull us over. How do you like it, pigs, when you have a bright light in your eyes, you pompous fucks?

I wanted one of them to pull me over. "Have you been drinking tonight?" "Uh, no ossifer, why?" "Well, you were driving erratically." "Can you even spell the word, ossifer?" "Excuse me?" "I asked you if you could even spell 'erratically,' or is that beyond your comprehension?" "Step out of the car, sir, and we're going to have you blow into this." "Okay, ossifer; if you want to look silly, that's your call." "Hands on the car." "Fuck you."

Okay, it probably would not have gone like that. That's a little extreme. But I'd be damn sure to rub their faces in the fact that I was as sober as a six-year-old. Better luck next time, dicks. I'd be damn sure to make them cognizant of that fact and I would, with every word I uttered, be thinking, fuck you fuck you fuck you. Pig.

On the way home, I stopped at a 7-11 to get some smokes. 90% of the clientele had alcoholic beverages. I walked out of there with some Lysol and a pack of American Spirits. And a pen.

Do I seem bitter? Why ever would you say that? It's nice to be able to wake up with a hangover-free head. It truly is. And the meetings, the portions of which I could actually hear, made that point abundantly clear. Health is good and addiction is bad. Intellectually, I know that. Emotionally, however, I struggled a bit tonight.

In the program, they speak of the first couple or three weeks (whatever) as being a "pink cloud." Why it's pink, I have no idea. But the basic premise is that, early in recovery, people feel almost beatific and grand; they feel as though they are just floating on a cloud and they are loving life. Eventually, though, clouds dissapate and people come back to earth.

Get out the landing gear, Adam, you're coming down.

You know what combats those feelings of bitterness and anger and self-pity? Support and meetings. It's a roller coaster.

One more thing and it's pretty ironic. I've been bereft of cravings since I started this A.B.. ("After Beer.") Tonight, at and on the way home from the Alano club, I had my first real cravings. I could almost smell the beer. Pretty ironic that a place that designed to be a virtual refuge for alcoholics and druggies can actually, too, be a trigger. But, then, I've always been kinda contrarian. Marijuana jazzed me up, as did beer, and I can drink coffee nonstop up until bedtime and then sleep like a baby. (A tired baby.)

So, that's it. Happy New Year. May 2007 (wow!) be a good year for all.

Peace. (But not to pigs.)