ANIMAL DIMENSION

DOG (LUCKY)

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!

CAT (BURT)

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.

PEACE!

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

A POEM OF LOVE IN UNISON

SUNDAY MYSTIQUE

Single beauty of two souls

Accessible

Giving

Receiving

Believing in

And living

In the hearts

Of one another:

Safe harbor which

Warm inside

Pulsing 
Beating

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.

--Steveroni

Images:

Two_natural_hearts_by_Roji_Hachi
Two_Little_Hearts_by_littlemewhatever
in...DEVIANT ART

FOURTH DIMENSION OF "HAPPY"

“How are you?”

“Fine!”

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.”

ARE YOU HAPPY?

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:

steveroni...or...

“happy-roni”

ALONE--IN A CROWD...A DIMENSIONAL

ALONE AND LONELY

“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...

PEACE!

Steve E

ONLY GOD COULD HAVE MADE THEM

CES ART

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

is HERE

GOD ART

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

PEACE!

Redwood photo from Google Images

SMELLING SMOKE--A DIMENSION

HALF AND HALF AD 1927

 PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT!

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.

PEACE

GOODBYE, FRIEND

Drew

Good soldier

So proud

So sober

So spiritual

So sad

Ave Maria University

Mourning in the morning

We who stayed

To help others

Along their sober way

Asleep in car

Note in lap

That final goodbye

(Seems now so far)

To his friends, his Peeps.

Sleep in peace now my friend...

Drew

Posted for OSW
Congratulations! One Stop Poetry is one year old.

A PERSPECTIVE

 

THINKING...NOT DRINKING

I LOOK AT ME

"My best thinking is what brought me here”, is what some members of Alcoholics Anonymous say in a semi-humorous fashion. Actually, the disease “alcoholism” is more one of 'thinking', than 'drinking'. Once I stopped drinking, booze was not my problem.

I did not realize that my drinking was what it was, merely a symptom of that 'thinking' illness, alcoholism. So tonight, I'm 'thinking', not about drinking, but about THINKING. In doing so, I substituted the word 'drinking' with 'thinking'. Let's find out how that works:

I think, because it makes me 'feel good'.

My thinking makes me more sociable.

Thinking erases all my mistakes.

My thinking makes everything “OK”.

When NOT thinking, I am Restless, Irritable, and Discontent.

My thinking makes me believe people LOVE me.

Thinking got me drunk.

I got morning hangovers when I 'thought' too much.

Thinking landed me in jail.

Thinking caused my divorce.

Because of too much thinking, I lost my

Boat,

Car,

House,

Wife,

Children,

Health,

And eight Job(s).

Most of these consequences—exception, jail-- occurred as a result of--or after I stopped—drinking.

So...to get better, to grow spiritually, to rid me of alcoholic insanity, I needed help: AA, a Higher Power (could be God? Hmmm!), a set of Steps to work on (a way to live without 'drugs'). A COMPLETE CHANGE in my thinking, attitude, behavior, my very outlook about life was/IS absolutely necessary.

NOTE: Alcoholic 'insanity' means doing over and over what I used to do, expecting other, better results.

NOTE #2: I'm a slow learner....

PEACE!

IMAGE: Anonymous. If an artist 

recognizes this work, please write

KILLING ME SOFTLY

           

 "Ancient Rainbow Oak" by LINDA *

(see below).

DO ME!

  Tear me limb from limb

Make me pain

See me bleed

Such long I've lived

And long loved

From my Father's seed

I grew in vain?

Down now. Take me

 But one more tree

Write exactly160 characters, POST on Sunday, 

and let Monkey Man know, with a comment.

Read a couple others while you are there, OK?

* Image of ancient oak by LINDA,California Artist (and Blog Peep).
View her vividly colorful work. Read 
her interwoven philosophies and witticisms
at Vulture Peak Muse. Beautiful galleries.
Many works are listed for sale.
Presented With JOY!

EXPERIENTIALLY KNOWING

IT TAKES TWO—OR MORE

A spark of energy bursts at the meeting of two people with like-minds. For example, as one alcoholic communicates with another, there is a common bond of “You 'know' me—I 'know' you.”

However, there is that requisite: it takes two or more which communicate for this spark to occur. Two prison inmates or two professors, bricklayers, attorneys, priests, artists, teachers, airline pilots...

Every discipline characteristically utilizes a language all its own. My profession is music which, by its nature, IS an audible language. Strange notations and signs translate—by the hands of a skilled musician—into sound-messages, which have power to stir emotions in all who 'feel' and/or 'hear'. (My father while deaf-blind, enjoyed putting his hand on my violin and 'hearing' the vibrations.) And, the discipline--this art, music--has its particular spoken language also.

When conversing with another of the same vocation, a certain feeling of camaraderie ensues—almost spiritual in nature. It is communing of two Peeps who studied and worked long and hard to achieve proficiency in their art.

Couple nights ago in FaceBook chat I met Kimberly, a violinist-blogger-Peep. We 'talked' music, symphony playing, auditions, practicing, teaching, etc. It is the first time I have enjoyed that special familiarity of mutual understanding, of being on the same musical wave length—through this blog-world.

During a “first conversation” with any working musician, I sense a similarity of that particular 'moment' when I first meet another recovering alcoholic. In the case of the alcoholic, the two of us experience instant comprehension of a past commonality. From helplessness and hopelessness, to rescue and recovery, we each found a way of living a happy life without booze or drugs.

Back to music and musicians: click on Kimberly and you will meet an enthusiastic blogger, and a true musician in every sense!

This morning I visited with a very talented man I used to play jobs with: flute trios, duets, in churches, banquet rooms and symphony halls. He is elderly. We talked of our years as soldiers in the symphonic armies, and of our musical lives today. I had been gently urged, brain-tugged, to ride to his home. A widower for several years, I found him lonely, and not very well. We discussed techniques of bowing, vibrato, teaching, tone production...all in a language many would find foreign. One more opportunity for me to experience true joy in that spiritual warmth of 'knowing' another Peep, almost with the closeness of former battle comrades. 

As I sit here and wonder, pondering these things in the wee hours, I gaze past the laptop at my “gallery wall” of paintings and drawings from Blog-Peeps, and thank God for His kindness to unworthy me. Why was I chosen to be so blessed? Blessed with sobriety, with amazing Peep-friends: artists, writers, poets, musicians and Sober Peeps? I will not question, but simply and silently revel in this life which is (gratefully) so BIG!

Love and PEACE!

Illo:
design_for_cover_by_ayhe-d3iwvs8

DEVIANT ART

DIMENSION of WEAVING

 SPINY-BACKED ORB-WEAVER

 Lots of these guys/gals in every back yard In our area. I don't mind them, EXCEPT when I'm mowing grass between our numerous bushes and trees--and fences. Because I do not 'see' them until they have found a home under my sweaty shirt...or under... well, worse--grin!

For a real cool experience, watch this, then tell me there is no God. Probably I'll not squash one of these spider-peeps EVER AGAIN! Seriously.

Go HERE to see what I mean!

 For more information, click THIS

NOTE: during my "drunk" days, I would have (partially!) eaten creatures like this.

AN OLDER DIMENSION

 PROPER AGING?

Upon viewing recently found pictures from a lot of years ago, I recalled thinking at the time how terrible I looked. That prideful shame I felt for anyone to 'see' my image. This lasted most of my life.

How I wish now for those likenesses of an enthusiastic, carefree youth riding his first motorized bike were still me. Photos from days of college, symphony, and those crappy news photos alike, how I hated them. Today, how I wish I 'looked' like that again? NOT!

Not really! Nope, I do not really wish to be a teen—or a twenty-een—and die all over—again! Because so well I remember parts of all those years I needed to drug my brain with alcohol, just to feel 'normal', to enjoy myself, to be with others, etc.

Life is too good, too big, too great now. I'm truly looking forward with  joyful anticipation of each tomorrow. What wondrous meetings, what 'miracles' await, what happy moments—and sad—are lurking, hiding themselves in the next hour!

However, a poem did emerge from my thoughts the other day, and so I wrote the following to a friend:

ON GROWING OLDER...

This age of mine

I detest.

Cannot run

Breathe heavily doing steps

Forget names of people I know so well

Cannot remember even what day is now.

To frighten someone away, I need only

Send them my photo....

Naked

And my true loved one I feel to be

Maneuvering away from me.

It is so the same

No blame

Hurry, Reaper Grim

Rush. Bring to me

That darkness of

Forever night

I am here to welcome you

With enthusiasm of one

Who has waited so long...

One very tired

Of it

All

--Steve E

growing_old__by_bnichole

DEVIANT ART

A DIMENSION OF BLIND HOPE

"AND THE BLIND SHALL SEE AGAIN>>>"

Another page in the "Book of Steve"

A girl--now age eight--was born sightless. I know her well. (I shall call her "G".) G knows that she is not the same, that others perceive things in a different manner than she. Hearing is perfect. She talks of course, has many cousins, Aunts, Uncles, BIG family. None live close by.

One brother, age 5, has specially befriended G, stays with her everywhere, plays games, walks in the woods--everywhere--holding her hand. When they come to a babbling cool brook, they splash one another with obvious glee, even JOY! This closeness is necessary for them both at this time.

Other numerous children in this family are too far removed by age to relate well with younger siblings--that 'teen' stuff, ya know?

G knows braille symbols, is extremely intelligent, but lives in a state which allows too many of its handicapped residents to fall between large cracks. The family lives far away.

G's younger brother was sent (I believe this!) by God to G, or she might be dreadfully alone in her uniqueness. Things are what they are. My prayer: As the lives of these two emerge, each turning point might safely harbor positive change.

This I know. G will 'see' many things which most of us sighted Peeps do not. The sightless are NOT unseeing.

Imagine becoming a resident of this beautiful place—earth/universe--never to view in 3-D color. My father was sightless also from birth. His lifelong theory: "God takes special care of Blind People and Drunks!" (He was not a 'drunk'!)

BLIND GIRL

 Please say a prayer for G, that God also might care 

for her in a special way. G might be the shining light 

for someone—or many--if that is not already happening.

Thank you, Peeps.

PEACE!

Top Image: Space_of_my_mind_by_excence

Bottom Image:  Sightless_Eyes_by_Zombion

DEVIANT ART

One-Dimensional

RESPITE

These are a few thoughts which 
I've garnered from Peeps:

“In the absence of our judgment, everything is at it should be.”

To relieve our depression we practiced symptoms of radiant happiness

We must do things which are uncomfortable, in order to BE comfortable

Sobriety should not be a struggle, for we have ceased

fighting anybody or anything—including alcohol

Q. What will I DO when I stop drinking?

A. Everything ELSE!

New book title: “HOW TO STAY SOBER.........for DUMMIES”

Chapter ONE: Do Not have that FIRST Drink!

For Family Outings, Parties, watching TV football:

MUST I numb my brain in order to enjoy life????

One thing worse than enthusiasm which is dead--

PATHETICISM!

Wife, to recovering alcoholic husband:

“YOU always were a Jekyll-and-Hyde,

But the wrong one got sober...”

__________________________________________

MAN, thinking about quitting drinking--

'talking' to his fresh bottle of Jack Daniels:

“ You made me lose my wife, children, house,

car, boat, my job, my 'friends' and my health...

..(He puts bottle up close to his ear, and softly says)

"DID I JUST HEAR YOU APOLOGIZE?”

sayings_by_limeslime34--Deviant Art

DIMENSION OF STEVE

ONE OF MY FAVORITE

SONGS!

Once there were green fields kissed by the sun
Once there were valleys where rivers used to run
Once there were blue skies with white clouds high above
Once they were part of an everlasting love
We were the lovers who strolled through green fields

Green fields are gone now, parched by the sun
Gone from the valleys where rivers used to run
Gone with the cold wind that swept into my heart
Gone with the lovers who let their dreams depart
Where are the green fields that we used to roam

I'll never know what made you run away
How can I keep searching when dark clouds hide the day
I only know there's nothing here for me
Nothing in this wide world, left for me to see

Still I'll keep on waiting until you return
I'll keep on waiting until the day you learn
You can't be happy while your heart's on the roam
You can't be happy until you bring it home
Home to the green fields and me once again

CELEBRATION DIMENSION

ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE

Yesterday, June 10^th Alcoholics Anonymous celebrated it's 76^th year. Two men, Bill W. and Bob S. met in an estate gatehouse in Akron Ohio. A 'planned' 15-minutes turned into a nearly half dozen hours. From that meeting was discovered that 'Higher-Power-God-triggered-spark' of addiction healing which likely begins with two willing souls in face-to-face sharing . These TWO evolved to more than today's two-million-plus sober members and 107,000 registered groups worldwide. Thank You Creator God, from all us sober Peeps, rescued from the chaos of desperation, a state of helplessness and hopelessness.

Open House was held at our Naples Intergroup. I was one of the 'hosts', to show peeps around (2 rooms—grin!) and eat OMG-Good-cake!

Saturday, we have a largerread 'longer'- celebration. More Peeps, and all-day shows, contests, historical stuff, capped by a dinner, speaker meeting, and dancing. Well, it's not EVERY day an organization turns age 76. I was already age 2--yes the 'terrible' twos, that was me! No, I was not yet a member of Alcoholics Anonymous--grin! But I was surrounded by farmer-Peeps who SHOULD have been.

Today I am grateful for God's Gifts; sobriety, health, family, special blog-friends, summer (yes!), artists and poets, animal-friends, seasonal and personal change, ability to live and to love.

PEACE!

DIMENSION OF OBLIVION

ONE ALCOHOLIC TALKS TO ANOTHER

At the risk of sounding my usual pompous self I relate this short story:

5 AM...Monday morning. The last thing I desired was to 'rise-and-shine', greet the new day, the new week. So I set my sights on a 7 AM meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. Figured I could fall asleep while some of the old-timers bloviated. Outside the 24-Hour Club were standing nearly 100 Peeps, all talking, shouting, laughing—SOBER!

This scenario often appears when I least feel like it: in the midst of the cacophony stood a solitary fellow, who had obviously spent the past few weeks/years living in the Everglades 'woods' (means: HOMELESS!). He looked terribly 'uncouth', ya KNOW what I'm sayin'--and claimed he stayed sober for 2 years...TEN YEARS AGO...and knew me from AA meetings then. He has been homeless for 8 years.

He refused to introduce himself as a returning Peep, also did not wish to go into the 'Beginners' room. So we stayed put. As a topic unfolded, (“What are YOU doing to help others stay sober?”) I whispered to him, “We're OUTTA here”, as I scurried him over to the 'newbie' meeting.

And we ran right into a discussion of Step 3. “Made a decision to turn our life and will over to the care of God as we understood Him.” Guess who--out of a room of 25 Peeps—was called on to 'share'. MY PEEP!!! So he DID get his 'Baptism under fire', so to speak.

Later, outside, we talked about several who said they had “relapsed”. To me, if a sober alcoholic drinks again it is not a “relapse”. It is, that the Peep MADE A DECISION to drink. Call it what it IS. “Relapse” is when a cancer returns after 6 years of cancer-free. My opinion, Peeps.

Oh, one more thing, a painter-friend--after the meeting--gave my new man a job for the day, painting! I could see God working all over the place Monday morning.

My schedule for Tuesday morning...you guessed it! Up at 5 AM, meeting at 7 AM. (Now—GO TO BED, Steve!)

  
NOTE:
"Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant." - Robert Louis Stevenson

A BORING POST?

antimatter partner of the helium nucleus: 

antihelium-4--discovered 2011

RANT--A DIMENSION OF STEVE

Six hundred years ago (c.1411) I might have been the same Peep as today, riding my scooter-quasi-motorcycle (sans motor!) up and down the alleyways of town. Destination today--grandson's house, where we'd spend an hour studying and practicing the art of violin playing. He is age 12. As I roared into his driveway, he remarked that I reminded him of a European troubadour many years before—yesss, he can even spell that word!--with all the stuff, music, stand, violin, metronome, tuner loaded on top my bike. Without the 'roar'!

Okay. But this post is not about that:

Sitting number eleven in a row of vehicles I noticed the red light changed to green. I waited...waited, and not even the first car had pulled away from 'stop' yet. WHAT are they waiting for? The Rapture? So then, one-by-one, the Peeps in front of me waited for the car or truck in front of them to move forward about 20 yards (18 meters) before they, too, began to move (pitifully slow) ahead.

Ah, finally! MY turn to go. You've already guessed it—the light turned RED! Another 3 minutes of waiting. Grrrrr! (And this happens all the time.) Fortunately on my scooter--usually--I can slither in, out, and between, those daydreaming Peeps with cellphones at their ears. Whew!  

 End of Rant

At that precise moment my 'program' kicked in: this is an  opportunity for me to be quiet, practice patience and tolerance—maybe meditate a moment on the wonder of That Love which inspired Creation of all things between a speck of Antihelium-4 and Andromeda. And be grateful for my special gift of Sobriety.

And...for the remainder of this day, from task to task, exactly what was supposed to happen—happened. One more day sober, an AA meeting, and a few other personal matters, dealing with ISP Comcast (Internet Service Provider), and most important, serenity happened. And it hung around ALL day. Another meeting (speaker) tonight.

By the way...“D”, my violin student, showed real progress since a week ago. I'm so proud of this smart kid. If NOTHING else comes of his music lessons, he will one day be able to greet a violinist, and 'know' what that Peep had to go through, in the beginning. And...he might even enjoy a Beethoven symphony another day long away, with HIS child/Grandson.

God is Good. As Jessie often passionately exclaims: YAY GOD!