A long and seemingly endless drought for there was a famine of both rain and alcohol.
The grit from life’s hard rub sprinkled like particles of rubber on the hot bone dry asphalt. The exhaust of know it all speakers dripped with insecurity from lips that were in constant motion. A slippery emulsion sprayed an oily film of insincerity onto the unyielding hard knocks of the concrete pavement.
Dust and dirt pounded into the consistency of fine sifted flour filled the crevices and the cracks with the character flaws of old resentments.
A prescription for the perfect storm hail, rain and alcohol is a slippery slope, with white lightning as slick as a greased pig at the rodeo.
It hadn’t rained in recent memory it was the longest dry spell since Texas recorded history. A short rain squall came with a needed relief. Carey had mentioned on the road there was a fellow who had spun out of control and was stranded alone on the cold shoulder ditch. Carey in a moment of selfless compassion pulled over to inquire if she could be of assistance.
The stranded motorist confessed in the early first few moments of the needed rain, the roads had turned into an ice skating rink. He related that it happened suddenly and without any warning, the car started to drift and he took over corrective action, and before you can say John Barley Corn he was off into the ditch.
A most common tale of relapse on the bumpy road of recovery we hit a dry spell. The regular phone calls to our sponsor slowly become occasional, and then not at all, prayer and meditation has been put on hold as life’s demands become more and more bold. It is all about me and I have nothing to give and a buck is too much to pay. Recovery meetings become pass, and only the know it alls have something to say. Dry as a bone and ready to ignite from a spark of the first drink of alcohol. The ease and comfort that comes from the perfect storm of inactivity and failure to grow spiritually as skid row once the prevue of the rear view mirror once again fills the windshield screen in but a total explosive moment.
Some rely on the spiritual experience they had 5, 10, and 20 yrs. or even more ago and live in the meetings like lounge lizards on patrol. Failing to expand spiritually and their effectiveness are reduced to the illusion of control. The loose garment of love and tolerance has been replaced by the judgmental and unyielding suit of self-righteous self-serving medieval chain-mail not so leisure suit.
Our one immunity from alcohol is intensive work with another alcoholic, this activity works when other activities fail.
We are further told that we are to grow in understanding and effectiveness (AA, pg. 84)
Bill W. had concluded that A.A. was a spiritual kindergarten and I concur, though everything I needed to know I learned in kindergarten, but if I want to grow in understanding and in effectiveness I have to look beyond Kansas and kindergarten or be content to be one of the A.A’s. Komodo dragon police. or worse, reduced to praying for rain, while watching my ox and my life fall back into the ditch.
See you on the radio