Drinking Alcohol taught me how to fly
Then it took away the sky....

Sunday, July 31, 2011




Once I asked the managing director (my former boss and friend) of a large hotel about the heavy-duty responsibilities of his job. Exactly what was it like?

He answered, “Oh, nothing to it. I say to one, 'Go', and he goeth. I say to another, 'Come', and he cometh.”

He was at once being both facetious and truthful.

Curiously, remembering that moment in reflection, I find in it references to my present-day life. In Alcoholics Anonymous I discovered the how and the why of it. In the drama of life, I failed as 'director' of everyone and every living thing.

No longer boss of my life, I now have a new Employer.
All-Powerful God. When I stay close to Him, and perform His work well, He provides everything I need. Usually when He says, “GO!”--I goeth. He says “Come!” I cometh. It can be that simple.

My new Boss is Kind, Gentle, Trustworthy, Loving. Mostly loving! I do not fear Him. And I do not want His job anymore! But I will do anything He asks. I'm becoming accustomed to using AA Peeps, you bloggers, and my AA sponsor to discern God's will for me. I don't think God is good in language, so He “talks to me” through you.

In sobriety I have done some crazy things—insanity returns?--grin! Somehow God turns my world right-side-up. It happens. I know. I have lived it, am living it. With God's Power in my life, and being conscious of His presence, I no longer fear anyone or anything. Nor do I fight, struggle. God does that for me now. (But I still do crazy things—not stupid. Crazy!)

Please NOTE: I'm not here to tell you how 'goodie-good' I am. Rather I would and do usually write how good I am NOT. My point here is to say that if I do behave justly, it is not my fault. It is simply that God has removed, one-by-one some bad behaviors, habits, obsessions, but He is long from finished!

I hate to sit in an AA meeting and hear Peeps talking about how good they are. I want to hear how bad they are/were, and what happened to insinuate a change in behavior. We are not perfect. NOBODY! (Well, I should not speak for you—grin!)

My Employer tells me this is a long-enough blog post. He also says it is bed time! And so I goeth!!!



(Next time PART III)

PICTURE: galloway_forest__survivors
by_coigach-d2n9rmi in Deviant Art

Friday, July 29, 2011


My Recovery—Part One (of three)

My life was self-directed for many years. A life of utter chaos! I would have been perennial winner of the “self-will-run-riot” award. When I arrived at the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous, I had been beaten down, driven by a hundred forms of fear. So sick mentally, physically, and of course morally, I recall just standing there and mumbling something about “I'm DONE! Please, someone help me, please tell me what to do.”

And I really did surrender myself to these sober Peeps—and the program of living they worked—and was ready to do anything to stay sober. A stranger at my first meeting said to me, “AA has many 'promises' for the Peeps who work these Twelve Steps. But I have ONE unwritten promise on which you can 'bet the farm': If you don't drink, you will not get drunk! If you don't believe me...try it!”

This happened in Naples, Florida. I was a bartender. I attended one meeting a week. That first dry day was not easy. But that night...I had one (God-given) moment of clarity, which many Peeps experience. Somehow I knew I would never take another drink. And I have not. That was March 18, 1974.

I never looked back! 

--Steve E

Thursday, July 28, 2011

just a poem


forever I've thought
'me' very special
find out is not true--
same as everyone
else, even you.

forever I've driven
loaded up with stuff
in sagging carriage
handing my love what
some say “baggage”.

forever arranging
this, that and others
what they do, even say,
never changing
where I work and play.

forever in dark night
hiding great fright
from your sight
peeps I am alone
not really home

forever however
does not last
runs by fast
while I, so clever
believed surpassed.

forever, ever the ass
of egocentric pride
much do I have to atone
before final sky-ride
forever alone. alone


Tuesday, July 26, 2011


Posted for dversepoets

TO earth she gave birth
in creative moment
of dance, mirth

ah! nature. see?
 just to be...

pulls water from sea

clears, cleans
returns those waves 
as rainy sheen
back to you and me.

let us dance...
dance in the rain

the grandest scheme

than greatest dream--

process of extraction

using again and again
...while we
dancing in the rain

with sweet

nurturing growth
providing sustenance

reasons to dance--

is the milk
mother cloud

future dance



Poem recycled and edited from:
Oct 23, 2010

Monday, July 25, 2011



what came before
does not haunt me
whatever in store
is not who daunts me

this moment, this riff
will play, sway
what you do and if
you stay...or betray.

before is never,
all gone away.
now and evermore
wrapped in today.

how did our 'before'
bring us to this place of
deep sea, fine-sand shore
where we now face

the next degree of burn
while clocks tick and
monthly pages turn.
did i never measure

this tower of our love?
its power, its strength?
am i finally tired of
predicting its length

today let us love
you and me,
and tenderly
let it be


Saturday, July 23, 2011



Probably one lone Peep in the whole world has been found asleep while viewing a Harry Potter film. Nobody heard me snoring. But my grandson suspected my lethargy, when he saw the box of chicken and fries fall off my lap onto the floor.

Grandson, age 12 (the violinist!) picked out an activity for us this Saturday. He enjoyed it immensely.

Harry Potter Part 2” is the eighth and supposedly final film in the series. I have not read any HP books, nor seen any of the movies prior to this one—the end. I knew not who were good guys or bad guys. Lots of explosions—actually constant!—and filming tricks, altogether quite boring for me. Sorry, you Harry Potter Freaks Peeps!

Everyone I've spoken with said that I must either read the books, or begin with movie #1 and see the first seven before tackling the last film, the end. Also they all let me know how much they love Harry Potter. Did I take their advice? Of course not!

I am happy to have seen this one, the redeeming factor being that it let me know I'll not see another or read the (how many?) books. “Contempt prior to investigation?” Yer dammmm right! Once a year I allow that—for just a half 

The SILVER SPOT CINEMA in Naples is fairly new, sporting cutting edge technology. It took me a half hour to figure out how to buy a ticket (exaggeration), and is complete with restaurant, huge leather living-room-type theater seats, tiered so every row has perfect view. A real pleasure to visit this place for an afternoon--no swimming pool! But there IS a thousand-mile beach one mile to the west--grin!

Back to films. I'm more of a “Godfather” or “Goodfellows” type of movie fan, and...truth be known, I'd much rather be sitting in front of my computer reading blogs and commenting, writing one now and then. Or chatting with a friend on Google-chat! Or attending a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous and feeling like, well...useful...or well-used?!

Most Peeps who might read this do know I am not a chronically dissatisfied Peep. In fact I try to practice being satisfied with whatever I have (key word...practice).

Going to bed happy, because I know getting up will be fun. It always is. Can't wait to see what the day will bring: Happy, sad, frustration, serenity, peace, joy, maybe a dose of each.

Have a great Sunday, Peeps!
Love! And PEACE!

Thursday, July 21, 2011




Why am I usually 'happy'?
why do I enjoy LIFE?
why do I feel at peace?
what frees me from
unnecessary stress?

How come I was 
gifted sobriety?
please...was not  
'will power', friends!
shhhhhh! Whisper...
(how do I stay sober?
grace of God, plus A.A.)

where I
walk, ride,
work, reside--
dead-end or

freedom from Bondage of Self,
they say.
keeps me off dusty shelf
they say.

does not mean I'm unselfish...NO!
freedom from attachment
freedom from needing...wanting
freedom from Ego. Flaunting
talents not the game
daily assignments daunting
yet all the same.

living life on life's terms...”
acceptance with open arms

thinking not less of self
but thinking of self less

clinches this deal:
living not lifeless stress
but living stress-less life
just me and my wife...


Tuesday, July 19, 2011


Happy date of birth to DVERSE POETS PUB JULY 19, 2011


Moon always is with us
Seen or unseen.
Responsible maybe
For earthly lunacy
Some say

Always with us, our moon
Now tugging, now pulling,
Soon pushing away
As throbbing heartbeat
Some say

Dark nor light can fail
Freckle-faced Pimple-cheeked globe
From showing shadowy forms.
Size and shape changing daily
Some note

Yet none on earth or else
Can render force of gravity
Less powerful. Lovely moon,
Imperturbably spotted,
Pimpled, Dimpled, and
As some say,

Strongly influencing equally
Fierce fighters...Passionate lovers.
It is said this gigantic sphere
Hides among its secrets
Even ever sweeter attractions

Some say

Posted on the occasion of OPENING DAY

Image: Google Images

Monday, July 18, 2011



In the hallway, I met a grown man crying—sobbing is the better word.

Allow me to elucidate. We just spent a few days in Miami, Florida (US), a place where many come to live before they move somewhere else, because of the many--just too many--Peeps who did NOT move somewhere else. It was a conference of Area 15 of Alcoholics Anonymous Districts which we attended.

There were just under 600 sober Alcoholic Peeps meeting,  greeting, carrying on some service business, listening, learning, and having also a good time, by the way—grin!

Cascades of water seemed everywhere inside and out. Water was falling everywhere also in the jungle-like, partly shaded swimming areas—you know the kind, same old, same old. But each was a miniature Niagara and each, in the shining sun so splashingly gorgeous!

Beautiful hotel...GREAT hamburgers, I mean that! (Seems such a shame to visit a Five-Star Hotel, and order hamburger, the only item under $22.) Oh well, the accommodations—luxurious!

Those B I G jet airplanes taking off from Miami International are numerous in a given day. The runway facing our direction sends those giant Jets out over the Atlantic, about every two minutes. Beautiful, especially with all those lights at night, they fly so low here until that great surge of power zooms them upward and outward over the moon-drenched sea.

Oddly enough, the rooms here are marvelously soundproofed. It has been an exceptionally interesting weekend for me. The 'main' meeting was from 9 AM-3 PM Sunday. We drove across the state to our home in Naples late Sunday afternoon, a two-hour trip. It is always a fun experience to escape the routine life.

Oh yes...that man crying outside our room—he was not one of our 600 Peeps—was deeply saddened by the fact that this fancy schmantzy hotel charges $13 per day for WI-FI. He claimed that rate is nearly (with tax) $5000 annually. So he is lived for three days without Internet access. Boo-Hoo! TELL me about it—grin!

Each of us Peeps have our own demons. I will not tell you mine, but I'll give you three guesses...and you will probably be correct no matter HOW you score! (No, I have not robbed a bank. That is one of my “yets”. It has not YET happened! And likely will not!)

What a wonderful, peaceful, interesting, busy yet serene, few days away! And it was spent with hundreds of Peeps who do not deem it necessary to DRUG themselves in order to have a great time together--WHO would have dreamed that I could be one of them?


A special EMPATHY I have for those bartenders who work in a 5-Star Hotel during a convention of 600 Alcoholics—who DON'T DRINK!!! (Or should I call them “Adult-Beverage” Dispensers?)

IMAGE: Google Images

Saturday, July 16, 2011



And, one more time--
I see above:
Glowing, golden shadows
And glorious fullness--that
Magnificent magnitude of
Moon Over Miami

From the highest perch
Gives one more chance
To witness,

Oh! what sights
What sounds
And memories.
Human delights
Stories told, retold
About when young
And now old...

Huge winged machines
Speeding worldwide
Float close over
Nearly noiselessly
Carrying cargoes of love
Beneath that SO special
Moon Over Miami

Hearing sweet music
Swimming in my head
And even sweeter
Songs written--
Songs sung

Balcony leaning...
Me? Overlooking
Over ALL.


Fantasy Image:

Thursday, July 14, 2011



Feet danced lightly on the
red brick road of love
to Somewhere
Over there

to a land far away
between mountain and sea
a paradise where live
the tallest trees
and honey-bees

where bluebirds sing
cow bells ring and
Peeps wish on stars.
Children glide on slides
somewhere—over there

What is that trestle-like arch
which none has seen begin
nor has yet found the end?
seeking always that pot
of red brick, or yellow gold
brightly young, or faded old

in perpetual smile
happily frowning—you!
oh! beauteous rainbow
forever changing
exquisite colors

we were enticed here
by the red brick road
now changed to gold
will we ever or shan't we
discover elusive golden pot?

Though it seems like not
dance we must
on the gilded path
whatever its color
or course where it lead.

What we found is this:
the universe itself
teaches faith, and hope
that all which ever was
all that will ever be...

is love

no begin, no end
to rainbows of life


Tuesday, July 12, 2011



Certainly everyone who has ever 'walked' their dog has noticed that in a half hour, the animal will 'mark' with a bit of wetness. Our 'rescue dog' Lucky and I went for a jaunt today. But first (dirty trick) I made sure he peed in the back yard. OK. (walk, walk) pee, (walk, walk) pee...and after ten more stops to water (mark) everything from mail boxes to waste disposals, to trees in empty lots, I began to wonder, where is all that urine stored? And is it 'held back' on purpose?

You see, in retirement are many sensational, situational events. These need pondering, meditation, to even reach close to resolution. On that rare occasion when I was out of booze, and had to (Ugh!) crack open some beer to drink, I had to relieve myself after each two bottles—which translated into maybe a dozen trips to the throne. Oh well, on to this next topic, wait until you read this!


Burt is a 'rescue' cat (I rescued him in infancy, 14 years ago). He lived—for 11 years, a normal cat-life-of-leisure. With the following scenario I need help, maybe even feline psychiatric consultation. Burt was neutered early in his life, and all seemed well. On my bed Burt has a favorite 'throw'. But about two years ago he thought it was his mother—and, behaving like a normal 12-year-old (cat—grin!), he began sucking on this blankie. Now WHO in their sane mind would remove his illusion? Not me!

So he began to eat less, his stomach was full of “fantasy-milk”. Well, he got tired of that and developed a more 'husband-wife' relationship with same blanket. Definitely, totally IN LOVE, and extremely sexually active in his mind (aren't we all—guys...GUYS?). Well, he has cat-sex for an hour or more. I know, because I sleep right there beside this hairy orgy. When 'finished', he takes his siesta, huffing and puffing, all tired out.

I let this continue, first, because he SO depends on this activity. Second, it keeps him from thinking my FOOT is his 'significant other'...in which case, he would be in need of rescuing once more—grin!

Anybody out there with “Sex-Cat” problem? Any advice? I have let this go on far too long to abruptly end Burt's reverie. So I guess that's that?

Even with these, ummmm--GIGANTIC—grin! problems of daily life, I am still sober. Now, I'll check the fridge for chocolate milk, made with HERSHEYS syrup. Shhhhhhhhhh! Everyone asleep here.


PS. Somehow, it seems degrading to call a loved one by the title "significant other"--even for a cat.

Saturday, July 9, 2011



Single beauty of two souls
Believing in
And living
In the hearts
Of one another:
Safe harbor which
Warm inside

Caring. Not which is you or me
Because there is NO you...and me.
Together at mountain, at sea
Beneath sweeter moonlight and sun
We are only and now but ONE

That oneness we cannot know
By reasoning.



Friday, July 8, 2011


How are you?”

This common greeting between friends and/or acquaintances has lost its true meaning. Who is going to answer “How are you?”...with “Oh! I'm full of fear, and low self-esteem.”


OK. Early yesterday I met someone I do not see regularly at the meetings. I asked, “How have you been?” She responded, “Fine!” Then she looked at me and asked, “Are you HAPPY?” As I immediately answered, “YESSS!”...I felt, somewhat wrongly, that an invasion had just taken place.

We settled into an “Are you happy?” conversation (she IS!) and I decided there and then to experiment with my newly-discovered greeting.

All day, whoever I met (ran into), friends AND strangers were jolted by my “Are you HAPPY?” I report that only ONE Peep said, “None of your Gd damned business!” However, he DID answer the question, right?--grin! (Turned out he was just 'being a smart-ass'.)

ALL day long I enjoyed thoroughly my experiment which already—for me—my new “How are you?” Out of possibly 100 Peeps (I see lots of Peeps daily!) around 15 answered with words like “marginal”, or just plain “No!” ...So 84% responded in the affirmative!

I also found that a flowing conversation became a common and direct result of asking, “Are you HAPPY??” Even Peeps who were obviously not so 'happy', were lifted up a notch in their 'happiness quotient' simply as a result of talking—which in the 'old' way, our conversation might well have ended SOON after the word, “Fine.”

Later, last night at the 'cookie' meeting I overheard the 'greeter' asking someone, “Are you HAPPY!” As I fell asleep later, I was still smiling at that one.

If any Peep who reads this decides to try it, kindly let me know in a comment how it went.

Naturally, if I am in 'isolation' mode, I won't be prone to asking, “Are you HAPPY?” But if I force myself to ask it ONE TIME, I will be out of my selfness, and maybe into helping another—and myself. How 'bout that?

Signing off as:

Tuesday, July 5, 2011



Some day he will be unable to imagine life either with alcohol or without it. Then he will know loneliness such as few do. He will be at the jumping-off place. He will wish for the end.”
--“Alcoholics Anonymous”, pg 152 

As a child I felt so alone, yet I was surrounded with Peeps, a brother, two sisters, lots of 'family' friends, and hired live-in farmhands. One who did not fit in during early school years—me. I was really the country bumpkin who—at age six--had never heard of a baseball game. The result of my 'feelings' (which are not always 'facts'--grin!) was isolation of myself from others. I rather enjoyed being the loner.

Note: Actually, I always had a girlfriend, beginning age five, but I wanted to be accepted by the boys, or as they called themselves, “men”...I mean, age 6 is too young to 'go steady'. So, isolate I did. On the outside I became Mr Friendly, but inside—where it counts—I hid my heart, my soul, my self.

This wishfully-granted loneliness expressed itself in many ways, over the course of many years. Just one short example:

I recall about the year 1954, sitting as a violinist, surrounded by 124 other musicians. I was a member of Cincinnati Symphony orchestra. After the finale of a Brahms symphony, nearly 2,300 Peeps stood, applauding and shouting. As the orchestra--and I--took a bow, I felt those salty tears streaming down my cheeks...tears of fear, loneliness, utter despair. It seemed as if the whole world was happy except me. And that was a direct result of my behaviors, just the “way I was”. Being unhappy and depressed was my destiny—or so I decided.

Of course, through all those years I was not falling-down-drunk every minute. I was sober several times each day, only to easily fall back on my crutch, alcohol. It made me feel like I was “Somebody”, ya know?

My character traits, poor choices, unrealistic view of life, my insane behaviors were the “isms” of “alcohol-ism”. Alcohol just neatly covered them from MY sight, not from others. SO...when I stopped using the drug, I was left with those 'shortcomings', and could not deal with life—without my crutch, alcohol. Hence, Alcoholics Anonymous, where I could observe others like me, and see what they did, to “STAY” sober.

So now, having been sober for many years, why do I continue to go to AA meetings...like—am I going to throw it all away, and drink? Well...

“...The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.” --Jean Cocteau

'Nuff said for now about my drinking “career”...does anyone but an alcoholic talk about his drinking-life as a “career”?--grin!!!

Lonely and Alone, no more...
Steve E

Saturday, July 2, 2011



Ever since my yout' I have experienced affinity with grass, weeds, stuff growing from, and in earth. As a child, I went through a period of not walking on grass, for fear of 'hurting” those glistening green blades!

My recent fondness for and love of trees, and other 'objets de la nature', is due in part to faithfully following the life and work (through her blogs) of C.P. Adorio, my most-preferred (without reservations) artist-Peep.

Pigma ink on 9"x12" Bristol Board
C.P. Adorio's "Miladysa's Glen", long my most favorite, stimulates my awareness, consciousness, of peace, serenity, nature, God's gifts.
Drawing, right, was inspired by photo, left.
Interesting rationale


You've seen one redwood, you've seen 'em all, right?

How many times, really, can we wander through a patch of redwoods and be silenced by the sheer beauty of these 2,500-year-old things? How many times does staring at a tree that was around when the Romans ruled the world make our lives seem irrelevant? How many times can we be flat-out amazed by the sheer tenacity of redwoods to survive for 25 centuries?

Every time, actually, if we have a soul.
Seen one redwood, seen 'em all, right?

I must get a life. Hug a tree. Get a crick in my neck. Be humbled. (No need for my arms to reach all the way around the tree--grin!)

For a VERY informative short video about how these giants are measure, and the importance of that, please click on TREES

Redwood photo from Google Images

Friday, July 1, 2011




Whoever really knows me, realizes that I smell.
WAIT! I smell good!
What I mean is that I have an unusually well-developed sense of smell.

Tonight, riding Flex (my scooter) to an AA meeting, I experienced olfactory sensations which took me to a place far away and long ago.

A fellow walking the 'hood was smoking a pipe, the tobacco was Half-and-Half, a brand my father smoked. And I will 

never forget that most pleasant of odors. 

Long before I saw my 'mark', I smelled his pipe's burning of that same brand of tobacco which we children so many years ago bought for my Pop each Christmas, and Birthday, and Father's Day. It was the one thing we knew he would happily, satisfyingly use, during those nightly minutes after a long day working the farm.

Well, tonight I could not help myself (common for me—grin!). I made a U-turn, rode right up to the 'older' man and said “Thank you!” He wanted to know why...and I told him, “...for smoking that beautiful aromatic blend of tobacco, while 'strolling down the avenue', like thumbing your nose at this chaotic world in which we are living.”

He smiled.
I smiled.                                     
I'm still smiling!

It was a GREAT meeting, Peeps.