Alcoholism. Always.

 

Just in from the theater.  Well, not the theater proper, a National Theater Live production, recorded in HD and shown in small movie theaters; so it's a bit like going to see a film but much more like getting to watch a play -- the Brits really know how to do that right.

The Professor and I went to see "Timon of Athens."  One of Shakespeare's lesser known and least produced plays.  The production was grand, and the Professor's company always delights, but after seeing T of A, I can tell you why it's lesser known and least seen.  Shakespeare is Shakespeare, but the Bard's best it ain't. 

I'll leave it at that, though. After all, you're not here for theater reviews.

It's late as I write this.  Cold and a little windy out, the kind of weather I love.  At the theater, when people entered the lobby, big dead leaves, all brown and crinkly, would blow in through the open door around their feet; an image so perfect that if you saw it in a movie you'd think it cliche.

I guess my brain was still crackling from three hours of Shakespearean rhythms, so when I changed into my jammies and curled up on the sofa to let the kittens (now a year-and-a-half old, so cats I suppose is more correct than kittens) scold me for being out so late, the book "Good Poems" by Garrison Keiller was handy and I started flipping through it.

(I know how terribly affected this all sounds.  In from the theater, curling up with cats, a book of poetry at hand -- trust me, the book was only handy because I had suffered an all too brief and irregular house cleaning spasm recently, and it was down off the shelf on a pile of others, more in the way than put away after some halfhearted sorting, straightening and swiffering.)

All of which is to say that I found myself with a Bukowski poem in front of me.  Keillor snuck a few into the collection, and as I've written about before, C.B. is a dangerous thing for me to read sometimes.

What is it, that dark, wet magic -- literally the opposite of the healing power that happens when people share -- when the right kind of drunk can make the worst kind of alcoholism sound like the best kind of existence?  How can it be that as wonderful as my life is most of the time (when I recognize it as such) I can still feel the twang of seduction (and desire. and identification.) thrumm in my gut when, in unguarded moments, drinking and the debasement of an alcoholic life is paraded before me?  In the second act of the play tonight, when poor Timon (rhymes with Simon, by the way) is having a tough go, one of the characters hands him a bottle of vodka.  The production was one of those modern retellings, so while the language was 17the Century the costumes, setting and props were all 21st.  Thus the vodka bottle was one of our era's examples of decanter art: clean and slim with frosted glass framing clear silhouettes of trees. (Google tells me it was probably Belvedere.)  The bottle had the shape and scale of something that wants to be held in the palm of your hand.  It's certainly a tribute to the lead actor, Simon Russell Beale's talent, that when he unscrews the top and lifts it to his lips you can see all the relief a good swig can bring.  But me, sitting there, close to a quarter of a century from my last drink?  Absorbed as I was in the performance, when he took that hit my mouth flooded with saliva. Seriously!  Still!

Alcoholism.  Always.

 

I'm very grateful and more than a little overwhelmed by the worries and well wishes posted here in my absence.  I'm afraid I'm going to make some of you mad or let others down when I tell you that ... well... nothing happened.  I didn't get drunk or suffer a terrible dramatic anything.  I think I was a little burnt out, and just missed a day writing.  And the day turned into several, which turned into a couple of weeks, which turned into... and when I'm not blogging I don't check the Mr. SP email... and so I was, as usual in my life, a little clueless as to how my actions -- or inactions -- might be effecting other people.

I apologize for any upsetness but really... I just drifted away for a while.

A sponsee a few weeks ago said to me, "Hey, have you looked at Mr. SponsorPants lately?  You better check in over there..." and that was how I discovered that there was some concern over my absence.  Which led me to feel wholly inadequate when it came to writing anything which didn't involve being kidnapped by extraterrestrials or suffering a blow to the head and forgetting everything which occurred after the sixth grade.

But tonight I came home and thought about the play, and read the Bukowski, and marvelled at the nature of the beast inside me -- which made me think, "well, I might have something to say about that at least."

And so I did.

So I suppose I'm back, mostly.

Thank you again for the well wishes and concerns, I'm embarrassed and grateful.

 

Mr. SponsorPants

 

Comments

[Sally]

Welcome back, Mr SP. I'm glad nothing dramatic happened to you, and that you were getting in with life. That's much better reason not to blog than some of the things that we were worrying about.

[Helen]

Mr Sponsorpants, so glad you're back!!

[dAAve u]

What a wonderful surprise when I saw that you had posted.
I'm VERY glad you're back.
I'm gladder that you are still alive and still sober.

When friends (and I consider you a friend) disappear from my life without explanation, my mind usually goes to the worst of extremes. So, of course, I'm relieved. If you decide to leave us again, please warn us, if you can.

[Syd]

Good that you are back. Reading Bukowski's biography is like a train wreck. But so many of the greats were train wrecks of one sort or the other.

[Lexie]

LOL, I'm tempted to sound like my own mother: "Don't you know you had us worried SICK?"

But no lectures--just glad everything is OK with you, and I know you have a lot of people who missed your daily posts. I get a LOT of email, including a few things I subscribe to (you know--inspirational stuff like daily comic strips), and I always saved the feed from this blog for last, like dessert. It generally gave me a good way to start the day.

Hugs, we missed ya!

[Sam]

Glad you're back here and w/o drama & trauma.

[Cameron]

I have missed your wise counsel every day, for four months... Glad you're "back"!

[Melissa]

I click on the link to your blog daily without thinking most times, and this morning when it wasn't the ass falling off into a bag post I felt my heart stop for a second.

So so so grateful and glad you're back, Mr SP! Mostly for my own selfish gains from your selfless reflections, but also because in this great wild wonderful world this side of heaven you're okay!

Much love from a grateful alanon. ~M.

[Elizabeth]

well sounds like the Aliens wiped your memory... that was kind of them :) Good to have you back.

[daisyanon]

Great to have you back, glad nothing bad happened.

I suppose we could say that our prayers for you have been answered.....

How does it feel reading something akin to your own obituary? He, he.

[Rusty]

Welcome back, for as long as you can stay. Missed you.

[Julie]

Oh gosh!! I'm so overjoyed! So happy!
I really really missed you! Really!
Signing on today to read archives....and there you were....well, I'm just overjoyed.
I'm still sober, I've gained two new sponsees both of whom have benefitted from your archives.
Keep trudging my friend
~Julie~

[divalolo]

Not affected at all. Beautiful moving prose with impressive visuals.

What relief & delight to find you back at the typepad. You do indeed make a difference to the world.

Hugs, and take care.
<3

[Taaaf]

Dear Mr SP,

My own blog absence I explained to myself using the leaving of my marriage as a reason, but I think that truly, it was more becaose I missed one day, another, then a week, then forgot to even look for a while.

So for me, your return is both a catalyst and a delight.

[Kary May]

Well, if there's a silver lining to your absence it's that there was such concern expressed on several message boards that a lot of people probably checked out your site to see what all the hub-bub was about, me included.

I'm glad I did.

[Lisa H.]

I was choosing to believe you took a break and good lord, I'm glad that's all it was. We missed the crap outta you. Welcome back, for however long you choose to write! You complete me. Wait. More stepwork in order...or Al-Anon. Happy Day!

[michele]

yes.
thank you.
live your life, but just poke your nose in so we don't worry.

[Laura]

Suffering as I do from the tendency to awfulize, yes, I was worried. Thrilled to have you back here and grateful for all that you do.

[Love]

Something told me to give a check in today... I always knew you were just taking a break. Hopefully more events will spur inspirations for writing. be well.

[Opheliasmom]

So relieved that you are back. Thank you.

[Grace]

yay you're back! so nice to see you here again!

[MsSponsorpanties]

As said at the tables so many times, "Glad you're here!". No allegations about the absence, just relief over the return!

[Jackie]

I don't think I knew how important you were (are to me) until you disappeared. Welcome back.

[Moi]

OMG YAY. When I saw TWO new posts by you in my reader I was so happy! Didn't want to pressure you, but yeah, I was pretty worried. Thank God you are okay.

[deb smith]

welcome back have missed you and your blog

[recovering jezebel]

OH THANK GOD. And welcome home.

(Also, I totally agree with you about Timon of Athens.)

[Kathleen]

Just another reader who is glad you're back.

[Tricia C.]

Gratitude abounds. So very glad to see you back.

[Debbie G]

Extremely excited to see a post from you here....seriously made my day. Missed you much!

[lulu]

Welcome back. So glad to see you posting again!

[John A.]

"...that he was raised on the third day..." Well who's counting. Me too thanks for your expressions. Welcome to hear you again. Keep coming back!

[molly]

I am SO glad that you are all right; I don't fault you for having a life at all, but your posts have meant a great deal to me...and it really made me think, I wish he'd had time to make a book out of his posts, as I frequently talk about a point or two you've made over the years. I do hope you think about that, of doing a book, so your wonderful wisdom (and great sense of humor) would be saved for others to enjoy...

[Michele]

Oh MR. SP, I am so glad you are back! So very, very happy you are back.

[Jill]

I kept watching for you, almost every day. So glad to see you write again and very thankful that there was no drama that kept you from it for awhile. I appreciate all the experience, strength, and hope you've shared.

[Elle]

Welcome back Mr. SP...you were missed very much!! Thanks for returning...hope you can stay for a while...:)

[Bobby D.]

Hmmm. You sure about not being abducted?

Well, if you start having flashbacks—call your sponsor!

GRIN

[David S]

Reading all the well wishes for your unceremonious departure leaves me vacant and curious..
No drama? No decision to withhold? No ego?
You obviously are not the alcoholic of my type..
Nevertheless we embrace your impish wit back and will sit with bated breath waiting for your next unceremonious departure, all the while enjoying your musings. Glad you're back.

[Tara]

I almost teared up when I just checked in and saw a recent date! I am so relieved you are okay. It's funny to have been so worried about someone I don't personally know! Anyway, glad you're back :)

[Gay-in-AA]

Welcome back. Color me emberressed that I stopped checking back daily. I checked and saw several posts. I was really happy. My flesh and blood sponsor is moving to the east coast in a few weeks. I was beside myself. This brings a little solace.

[Jay]

Thank you.