Neil has a perfect life. A wife, two sons, a great job, a beautiful farmhouse. He?s also an alcoholic. At the beginning of his memoir, he describes his ritualistic stop at the bar where Phyllis the bartender works before he gets on the train to go home.
My loyalty is rewarded. The glass is always waiting. The instant she sees me burst through the front door, her hand shoots under the bar?she grabs the stubby rocks glass, fills it with a handful of ice, then brims it off with Jack Daniels?I love that. I will not lie to you. The magically arriving glass is my Pulitzer, my round of applause from the world. Love it.
Personally, I remember this kind of thing well. First as the bartender. I used to tend bar while putting myself through college. I remember running the happy hour shift at a well known hotel. I had my number of Neils. I took care of them-you bet your ass I did! I never once thought of their lives outside of the bar. Occasionally they would talk a bit about home but they were mostly concerned about themselves. And their drinks. That?s what came first to them. Second, on the other side of the bar, in my early 30?s I?d go out to bars with my husband. They would know our regular drink and have it ready for us. Made us special, you see, a bit above the crowd. Sigh.
After an unfortunate event, the event being Neil getting very drunk and hitting his wife, Neil finds himself in court-ordered rehab, perhaps also losing his job and his family?his life. In rehab, he?s first introduced to the concept of AA. And a higher power. He struggles with this.
?I?m not an atheist,? I say. ?They?re zealots too. They make nonbelief into a religion. I?m an agnostic??
I don?t know how many times I?ve heard people who are ordered or who choose to go to AA to say this type of thing. No more comment about that. It's too personal for each person for me to get into it. Not my business but well written about in the book.
In an afternoon session a lady talks about her drinking. Neil calls her the elderly bag lady. Really, should he be in a place with these kind of people?
?When I was drinking I would feel really good,? she says in a soft Southern drawl. ?But then I would feel guilty and it would bum me out. I was always hiding bottles, minimizing how much I was drinking, I?d sneak drinks. I didn?t use a glass. I?d use a coffee cup with a top on it, and for a while that worked. It?d only take two drinks a day ? you can imagine the size of that coffee cup. Always just wine, no hard liquor ? I can?t stand it. I wasn?t ever stumbling drunk. I thought my family didn?t know but of course they did.?
It turns out Neil?s ?old bag lady? was a North Shore society matron.
My judgment is not only skewed, it?s hair-triggered. I?m so hot to dismiss these people as being beneath me that I can hardly see what?s right in front of my eyes.
Neil?s counselor, Linda has something to say to Neil.
?You may think that you?re unique. You obviously fancy yourself the Special Boy. All alcoholics do.?
Neil finds that his cousin, a relative he loves dearly, is dying of cancer at a young age. He calls David and tells him about his alcoholism, rehab, the whole story.
?Hang in there,? says David.
?Hang in there,? I respond.
?One day at a time,? he says.
?One day at a time,? I answer, with sincerity.
How many of us at MWO have said that to each other? Hundreds? Thousands? Neil continues on his recovery talking with a neighbor he meets who happens to have been in the program for years.
?Have you ever looked back on a period in your life ? a year, a week, an hour ? and said, ?I wish I drank more?? Have you ever looked back at an event and said, ?You know, that was fun, but I just didn?t drink enough???
?Never.?
I couldn?t put this book down and can?t recommend it highly enough. The author was so brave as to keep every real name and place, except for two, throughout his entire ordeal. He certainly isn't a perfect person, nor was his recovery. His candor, tact, sense of humor and, illumination into alcoholism is a wonderful read. Loved it.
Take care, :l
Be
My loyalty is rewarded. The glass is always waiting. The instant she sees me burst through the front door, her hand shoots under the bar?she grabs the stubby rocks glass, fills it with a handful of ice, then brims it off with Jack Daniels?I love that. I will not lie to you. The magically arriving glass is my Pulitzer, my round of applause from the world. Love it.
Personally, I remember this kind of thing well. First as the bartender. I used to tend bar while putting myself through college. I remember running the happy hour shift at a well known hotel. I had my number of Neils. I took care of them-you bet your ass I did! I never once thought of their lives outside of the bar. Occasionally they would talk a bit about home but they were mostly concerned about themselves. And their drinks. That?s what came first to them. Second, on the other side of the bar, in my early 30?s I?d go out to bars with my husband. They would know our regular drink and have it ready for us. Made us special, you see, a bit above the crowd. Sigh.
After an unfortunate event, the event being Neil getting very drunk and hitting his wife, Neil finds himself in court-ordered rehab, perhaps also losing his job and his family?his life. In rehab, he?s first introduced to the concept of AA. And a higher power. He struggles with this.
?I?m not an atheist,? I say. ?They?re zealots too. They make nonbelief into a religion. I?m an agnostic??
I don?t know how many times I?ve heard people who are ordered or who choose to go to AA to say this type of thing. No more comment about that. It's too personal for each person for me to get into it. Not my business but well written about in the book.
In an afternoon session a lady talks about her drinking. Neil calls her the elderly bag lady. Really, should he be in a place with these kind of people?
?When I was drinking I would feel really good,? she says in a soft Southern drawl. ?But then I would feel guilty and it would bum me out. I was always hiding bottles, minimizing how much I was drinking, I?d sneak drinks. I didn?t use a glass. I?d use a coffee cup with a top on it, and for a while that worked. It?d only take two drinks a day ? you can imagine the size of that coffee cup. Always just wine, no hard liquor ? I can?t stand it. I wasn?t ever stumbling drunk. I thought my family didn?t know but of course they did.?
It turns out Neil?s ?old bag lady? was a North Shore society matron.
My judgment is not only skewed, it?s hair-triggered. I?m so hot to dismiss these people as being beneath me that I can hardly see what?s right in front of my eyes.
Neil?s counselor, Linda has something to say to Neil.
?You may think that you?re unique. You obviously fancy yourself the Special Boy. All alcoholics do.?
Neil finds that his cousin, a relative he loves dearly, is dying of cancer at a young age. He calls David and tells him about his alcoholism, rehab, the whole story.
?Hang in there,? says David.
?Hang in there,? I respond.
?One day at a time,? he says.
?One day at a time,? I answer, with sincerity.
How many of us at MWO have said that to each other? Hundreds? Thousands? Neil continues on his recovery talking with a neighbor he meets who happens to have been in the program for years.
?Have you ever looked back on a period in your life ? a year, a week, an hour ? and said, ?I wish I drank more?? Have you ever looked back at an event and said, ?You know, that was fun, but I just didn?t drink enough???
?Never.?
I couldn?t put this book down and can?t recommend it highly enough. The author was so brave as to keep every real name and place, except for two, throughout his entire ordeal. He certainly isn't a perfect person, nor was his recovery. His candor, tact, sense of humor and, illumination into alcoholism is a wonderful read. Loved it.
Take care, :l
Be
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