Mr. SponsorPants

... a scurrilous accusation!

 

GIBLET: I never speed.

DUMPLING: What are you talking about?  You speed all the time!  The only time your speedometer is at the speed limit is when you're accelerating past it or braking because you see a cop in your rear view. 

GIBLET: That is a scurrilous accusation!  I never speed!

DUMPLING: oooh. Scurrilous.  Good word.

GIBLET: Thank you.

DUMPLING: But you do too speed.

GIBLET: I don't.

DUMPLING: Did you get any speeding tickets last year?

GIBLET: [mumblemumblemumble]

DUMPLING: What's that?

GIBLET: yes.

DUMPLING: How many?

GIBLET: [mumble]

DUMPLING: How many?

GIBLET: Three! Three! Okay?  Three!

DUMPLING: So you speed.

GIBLET: No, I don't speed.  Those times I got a ticket, I was running late.

DUMPLING: Do you have any idea just how alcoholic you truly, truly are?

GIBLET: What do you mean?

DUMPLING: You honestly think that if you have a good enough reason for why you do something the reason actually changes the something you did.  That is profoundly, terrifyingly alcoholic.

GIBLET: I... I... I'm gonna think about that, and when I figure it out, I suspect I'm going to be deeply offended!

DUMPLING: You go right ahead.  'cause that would be deeply alcoholic too.

GIBLET:  Now you're just irritating.

DUMPLING: Everybody needs a hobby.

Giblet and Dumpling: Maybe you only get good closure in the movies.

The lights come up on GIBLET, moving about the apartment, packing clothes and toiletries into a gym bag.  After a minute or two they pause and pick up a picture from a side table and look at it for a long moment.  There is the sound of keys in the lock and GIBLET hurriedly puts the picture down, turning to face the front door.

 DUMPLING enters, and stops short upon seeing GIBLET standing there.

DUMPLING:  Oh.

GIBLET:  I was just getting some of my clothes and stuff.  I didn't know if we... I mean, if you wanted... I'm staying at my sponsor's for a couple of days, and I needed some clothes and all.

DUMPLING:  You're staying at Chickpea's?  Wow.  Pretty nice of them since you never... I mean, uh, good.  Yeah.  Yes.  That's good.

GIBLET:  Yeah, turns out a sponsor is good for something after all.

DUMPLING looks at GIBLET for a long moment, and then walks into the apartment.

DUMPLING:  I forgot to grab my cell before heading in to work.

GIBLET:  Yeah, I came by now 'cause I thought you'd be... I didn't want to get in the way or ... I dunno.  Now I feel like I should have come by while you were here but then we'd...

DUMPLING:  Have to talk?  Finish our argument?  What?

GIBLET:  That argument is never finished. 

GIBLET tries for a chuckle and it sounds as forced as it is, so it dies off.

DUMPLING:  I don't want to argue anymore.  I don't want ... look, did you see my cell while you were packing?

GIBLET:  No.  It's probably in the sofa cushions again, you always leave it there when you're watching TV and talking to Popcorn.  Have you told them... I mean, did you talk to Popcorn about our... stuff?

DUMPLING:  I talk to Popcorn about everything, Giblet.  Because, yeah, a sponsor IS good for something after all.

GIBLET:  Whatever.  I just never liked the idea of you bringing our prob... our business to some self-appointed...

DUMPLING:  I didn't bring OUR problems, I brought MY problems to them.  And... and... look just... I don't have time for this.  I don't want to do this now.  I may not want to do this ever, but I sure as hell don't want to do it now.

DUMPLING crosses to the sofa and starts to feel under the cushions.  GIBLET moves to help.

DUMPLING:  Don't.  Just ... go ahead and pack and... whatever.  Say hi to Chickpea for me.

GIBLET mumbles something inaudible.

DUMPLING:  What.

GIBLET:  Nothing.

DUMPLING:  You know, when you do that mumble thing it's like you...

DUMPLING pauses and takes a very deep breath.

DUMPLING:  When you do that mumble thing I feel frustrated and a little threatened.

A long look passes between them, and DUMPLING resumes looking amidst the sofa cushions.

GIBLET:  Well I'm sorry, but I'm not responsible for how you feel.

DUMPLING jumps up and whirls around, taking several strides over to GIBLET

DUMPLING:  I'm not asking you to take responsibility for my feelings, Giblet. 

GIBLET:  That's a nice change.

DUMPLING screams in rage and for a moment it looks like DUMPLING might hit GIBLET.

DUMPLING:  You know what?  Maybe you're right.  But the fact is, I'm NOT asking you to take responsibility for my feelings -- but on the subject of change, I'd like to suggest that YOU take responsibility for your ACTIONS.  That would be a nice change too!  If you act like an ass and then I'm upset and I tell you that I'm upset it's some pretty sick shit to somehow turn that around on ME!  And ...

GIBLET:  Fine!  Fine!  It's all on me then.  You're the saint and I'm the asshole.  Man, I know how much you've been rehearsing for this scene -- only like your whole god damn life!  I have never met anyone who got such juice out of being wronged, you know?  God, you're just so...

DUMPLING:  You know what?  Fuck you!  Just Fuck you!

GIBLET:  No!  Fuck YOU!

DUMPLING:  No, YOU!

GIBLET:  YOU!

DUMPLING:  YOU!

The You/You goes on for a few minutes, and as it does, the tone and delivery begin to change from furious to mocking each other to outright silliness.

GIBLET:  Real mature.

DUMPLING:  I am not going to dissolve into giggles but if this were a movie, I probably would.

GIBLET:  If this were a movie, we'd be having make-up sex, not giggling.

DUMPLING:  No we wouldn't.

GIBLET:  Sure we would!

DUMPLING:  No, we wouldn't, Giblet.

GIBLET:  In my movie we would.

They regard each other sadly for a moment.

DUMPLING:  Oh, Giblet, maybe that's just ... maybe you and I were just never in the same movie to begin with.

GIBLET reaches out to take DUMPLING's hand.  DUMPLING steps back and in so doing winds up sitting down hard on the sofa, then reaches under where they landed and pulls out their cell phone.

DUMPLING:  Found it.  I ... I have to get in to work.

GIBLET:  Yeah, sure.  I'll just... I'll be at Chickpea's and if you want to...

DUMPLING gets up and crosses to the front door

DUMPLING:  Right.  Yeah.  We'll... I'll ... I'll talk to you later.

GIBLET:  Right.

DUMPLING exits through the door.  GIBLET goes over to the sofa, begins straightening some of the cushions which had become disheveled in the search for the cell.  Then GIBLET sits down and picks up the picture again, looking at it for a bit.  GIBLET begins to cry.

Blackout and curtain.

Giblet and Dumpling visit their respective sponsors -- A Round in 6 Parts

Author's note:  What started as just place-holder names in a hypothetical example almost two years ago has gotten completely out of hand.  These characters have now taken over their own story (so much so that they have a Category in the listing to the right of the blog post entries).  And with that said, I am as surprised as anyone as to what comes out of their mouths or what happens next.  I'm not even sure what this is anymore ... but it's their show now, I'm just the guy at the keyboard trying to keep up with them.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Down Stage Right, a picnic table, a park bench, a few bushes.  Chickpea, Giblet's sponsor, sits at the picnic table, working on a puzzle.

Down Stage Left is a small kitchen tableaux, with a counter, sink and some cabinets behind, a butcher block table, tall enough for one to work at while standing, in the center of the kitchen, and a smaller kitchen table with two chairs set to the side, extreme Stage Left but still in the kitchen itself.  Popcorn, Dumpling's sponsor, is standing at the butcher block table, cutting up apples into smaller pieces and throwing them into a large mixing bowl.

The lights come up Down Stage Right, and dim Down Stage Left.

Giblet enters carrying a cardboard to-go tray with two paper cups of coffee on it, and sits down at the picnic table opposite Chickpea.

GIBLET:  Umm, thanks for meeting with me on kinda short notice.  I brought coffee.

CHICKPEA:  I was happy to hear from you.  No big deal, I come here every week to work on this.  Thanks for the coffee.

GIBLET:  Sure.

Silence for a while as Chickpea works on fitting pieces into the puzzle on the table.

GIBLET:  So, what is this.  A meditation?  A metaphor?

CHICKPEA:  It's a puzzle.

GIBLET:  Yeah, but, I mean, the whole fitting pieces together thing?  It's kind of Yoda, you know?  <does a Yoda voice>  Puzzle I solve.  Teach you I will...

Chickpea stops working on the puzzle and looks at Giblet for a long moment.

GIBLET:  Yeah.  Ummm ... nevermind.

Chickpea goes back to working on the puzzle.  A few more beats of silence.

GIBLET:  Do you ... can I help?  Do you want me to sort the loose pieces or something?

CHICKPEA:  No, thanks.

GIBLET:  Oh.  Okay.  What's it a puzzle of?  I mean, what's the picture when you're done?

CHICKPEA:  I don't know.  I've never gotten very far.  I think there are pieces missing, or it might be pieces from other puzzles in the box.  I just enjoy the process.

GIBLET:  You don't even know if ... well that's stupi... that's interesting.

CHICKPEA:  I would ask why you called me, Giblet, since you aren't big on calling, but I know why you called.

GIBLET:  You do?  That's pretty good, since I'm not even sure why I called.

CHICKPEA:  Yes.  You called because something bad happened and you're out of good ideas and you don't know what else to do, so, on impulse and at the end of your rope, you thought maybe your sponsor might have some idea to make everything all okay.  You treat AA, and all things AA, like an emergency ripcord, Giblet.  When things go to hell in your life you call hoping for a magic bullet.  You want help cleaning up your messes.  AA can help with that, but that's really not what it's about.

GIBLET:  Remind me again why I asked you to sponsor me.  Was it for this warmth and support you're offering me right now?

CHICKPEA:  Dunno.  Since you've never been especially interested in being sponsored, I have no clue.

Lights dim Down Stage Right and come up Down Stage Left, where Dumpling is now sitting at the kitchen table watching Popcorn slice the apples.

POPCORN:  So Giblet smashed the mug against the wall and you ...

DUMPLING:  I sort of went to pieces and wished I'd never said what I said and now I ...

POPCORN:  Well that's not new territory for you.

DUMPLING:  Huh? What do you mean?

POPCORN:  This is an old, old pattern for you.  You stuff the truth and stuff the truth and stuff the truth until it explodes out of you and then, when the people you exploded at are surprised and reeling and acting out their shock at your explosion, you retreat into helpless apologetic mode and wish you'd never spoken up.

DUMPLING:  It is?  I ... I do?  Oh my God, I feel sick.

POPCORN:  Yes.  You don't have a problem telling the truth, Dumpling -- you have a problem telling the truth too late -- or when it serves you.  Are you telling the truth, or just letting them know you've been keeping score?  I don't know if it's about fear or drama or manipulation.  Probably a little of all three, actually.  I mean, you get to have your say and a nice emotional release in the bargain, but then you perform this fluttery I'm-so-sorry-I-yelled-please-don't-be-mad dance so that you don't have to stand up and have a real and tough exchange with people.  It's a great way to avoid taking any responsibility for what you say or how you feel.

DUMPLING:  Ummm ... ouch.  Remind me again why I asked you to sponsor me.  Was it for this warmth and support you're offering me right now?

Lights dim DSL and come up DSR

CHICKPEA:  Do you know what a 'bush league pinch hitter' is, Giblet?

GIBLET:  Kinda.  What. 

CHICKPEA:  Well, in the AA literature it talks about how people sometimes treat God like He's a bush league pinch hitter ... the bush leagues were ...

GIBLET:  I get it, I get it.  People treat God like they only call on him in an emergency and you're saying that's how I treat God.  Okay!  Okay!  I get it!

CHICKPEA:  Oh, not just God.  AA, meetings, a sponsor ... Giblet, you don't want any help.  You don't want any suggestions on how to do things differently.  You want to do things the way you want to do things, and the only time you're interested in any input is when it's too late -- and then when AA can't offer you an instant fix you file that away and use it as a justification to keep doing things your way.

GIBLET:  Okay, but ... maybe.  Whatever.  It's just that ... what if I want to be ... to do things differently.

CHICKPEA:  What if you do?  Even if you do, it may not fix things with Dumpling.  Suddenly flinging yourself into AA as some sort of penance to offer Dumpling for what was essentially a violent outburst ...

GIBLET:  Oh, please, I smashed a mug.

CHICKPEA:  And your remorse is terribly moving.

GIBLET:  I am!  It's just ... let's not act like I hit anyone or anything.

CHICKPEA:  Fair enough, but you don't have to hit anyone to create an atmosphere of menace -- the threat is there, regardless.  Dumpling finally called you on your... Dumpling told you a truth, rather than playing along with you as you've bullied them into doing from the start, and you immediately punished them and then took all your toys and stormed out.  Before they could throw you out, if I had to guess.

GIBLET:  Fine.  Fine.  So ... what do I do?  What do you suggest I do?

Lights dim DSR, lights up DSL

POPCORN:  Well, what you need to do is write an inventory on this relationship -- actually, you need to work the Steps on this relationship.  You're powerless over this relationship and it is making your life unmanageable.  But you're here because you believe the 12 Steps can help you, and you're willing to try them on this, and ...

DUMPLING:  I don't need to work the steps on this, you just did it for me.

POPCORN:  You know what I mean.  You need to really take this in, and then, you do need to write an inventory.  You need to look at your part in this, so you can look at things clearly, and decide ... well, let's just say so you can look at things clearly and leave it at that for right now.

DUMPLING:  I'm just ... I'm so mad I'm sick about it.

POPCORN:  Well, the fun, dramatic, righteous indignation part is your anger at Giblet.  The sick, dark, twisted stuff under that might be your anger at yourself -- but I'm not here to play amateur therapist.  I just want you to use an inventory to look at your part in things, since that's the only thing you can really, truly, do anything about.

DUMPLING:  I just ... I feel like if I look at my part in things then ... then I let Giblet off the hook.

Lights dim DSL and light up DSR

CHICKPEA:  No.  You put Dumpling squarely on the hook in the first two columns.  That's what they're for.  If you ever had gone through the Big Book with me and we'd gotten to the 4th Step you'd see that one of the first things it talks about there is that "the world and its people are often quite wrong."  Looking at your part in something doesn't mean that other people don't have a part.  But you told me that you'd done the steps in rehab...

GIBLET:  Yeah, we did things in a workbook and stuff, and ... you know, I'm not big on writing and all ... I didn't get sober to do homework you know?

CHICKPEA:  Don't take this the wrong way, but you didn't get sober at all.  You got dry, Giblet.  You're still a raging alcoholic, you just don't drink.

GIBLET:  How could I possibly take that the wrong way?

CHICKPEA:  Giblet, the only step you've ever really taken is Step One, when you checked yourself into Rehab.  Now what you're finding out is that it's not a one step deal -- and unfortunately your relationship with Dumpling may be the collateral damage to that learning curve.

GIBLET:  Okay, okay, so I need to do an inventory.

CHICKPEA:  What you need, Giblet, is a Program.  An inventory is part of it.

GIBLET:  You know, I never thought I would turn out to be that person.

CHICKPEA:  That person who's nothing but a dry drunk?

GIBLET:  No.  That person who is such an asshole in a relationship.

Lights dim DSR, lights up DSL

DUMPLING:  You know, I never thought I would turn out to be that person.

POPCORN:  That person who needs to stop passive/aggressively manipulating and start to go to Alanon?

DUMPLING:  No.  That person who is such a doormat in a relationship.

Blackout 

Giblet and Dumpling consider Cargo Cults and Negative Consciousness. A Play in 47 Lines.

As the curtain rises, Giblet sits at the kitchen table downstage left, looking morose and drinking a cup of coffee.  After a few moments Dumpling enters, upstage right, and crosses to the counter, where a coffee maker sits, with several mugs on a sideboard.  Dumpling grabs a mug, fills it with coffee and stands, considering Giblet for a few moments before crossing downstage and joining them at the table.

DUMPLING:  What are you doing?

GIBLET (sarcastic and exasperated): What does it look like I'm doing?  I'm sitting here drinking a cup of coffee.

DUMPLING:  Actually, it looks like you're sitting, drinking a cup of coffee and thinking angry thoughts.  And scowling.  You're a great scowler, you know.

GIBLET:  Whatever.

DUMPLING:  What are you thinking about?

GIBLET:  Some guy at the meeting last week shared something that I can't get out of my head and ... it's really messing with me.

DUMPLING:  What did your sponsor say?  Oh, that's right, you don't call your sponsor.

GIBLET:  That's what's great about you, I don't really need to work my program, since you're always so ready to step in and work it for me.

DUMPLING:  That is an infantile evasion to an astute observation -- my remarking that you don't call your sponsor is not very different from saying you don't take your insulin, or you don't take your vitamins, or whatever.

GIBLET:  Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.

DUMPLING:  Wow, you are really a piece of work today.  So what is it that this guy shared which has your snark turned up to eleven?

GIBLET:  He was talking about having a hard time with his faith -- faith in God, faith in AA, recovery, his ability to "get" it -- and he compared the whole thing to a Cargo Cult, and the comparison is so apt it's kind of freaking me out.

DUMPLING:  How apt is it?  Remind me again what a Cargo Cult is, and most especially what it might have to do with a crisis of faith.

Giblet rises from the table while speaking, and goes to the counter, grabbing the coffee pot and returning, pouring more coffee into each mug.

GIBLET:  Well, he told the story of the Cargo Cults -- it's part history and part fable, so don't get worked up about how accurate the history bits are -- it's the larger point that's working me.  Okay, so during World War II the Allies' planes couldn't carry enough fuel to make it all the way across the Pacific Theater, so the military selected small islands along the way to build posts with fuel and supplies and such.  Some of these islands were actually inhabited, and so basically one day, as far as the natives were concerned, this big silver bird comes down from the sky, and out of its belly comes men, with materials and things, and the men build a long flat road and hang lights, which then makes for other, even bigger silver birds to land, and from those issued all sorts of things -- not just men and supplies, but things that the natives had never seen before.  Matches, chocolate, flashlights, cameras ...

DUMPLING:  Okay, sorry to interrupt, but my God, could this fable be any more condescending to indigenous peoples?  It's the typical Western arrogance manifest destiny thing which ...

GIBLET:  You are everything I hate about highly educated people, did you know that?

DUMPLING:  And yet you keep sleeping with me.

GIBLET:  Congratulations, you are part of my cycle of dysfunctional relationships.  Do you want to hear what's bothering me, or do you want to lecture me about western culture and crap like that?

DUMPLING:  Sorry, sorry -- go on.

GIBLET:  Okay, so the natives, they have no understanding of the war, or the world outside of their little island.  They're just grooving on all the stuff that is coming along with the men who come out of the big silver birds.

DUMPLING:  Chocolate and nylons.

GIBLET:  Will you stop?

DUMPLING:  Sorry, I really do want to help.  Please, go on.

GIBLET:  So the war ends, but that's all an abstract to the natives -- yet with the war over the military eventually closes the base and flies away.  No more silver birds with stuff coming out of them.  So the natives sit down, and with their best thinking try to figure out how to get the big silver birds to come back to the island so they can get the stuff again.  So they think about it, and they think about it, and they hit on a perfect solution:  Build another long road for the big silver birds to land on.  After all, that's what happened before, right?  So they tear down some trees and flatten a long stretch of land and line it with torches and congratulate themselves on their good thinking and their hard work and they sit down and wait.  But of course no planes come, because although they mimicked what it took for planes to land on the island before, they were completely ignorant of what was really going on. From their limited view they took the right action to get the result, but in the big picture they couldn't have been more off the mark.

DUMPLING:  Okay, wow, and this guy said all this in his share?  Where does the crisis of faith come in, and what about all that has gotten your knickers in a twist?

GIBLET:  What if we in recovery are like the natives on the island -- what if anyone seeking a conscious contact with a Higher Power in general is like that?  We have our little rituals and our writing and we pray and we this and that, but what if we're just performing a dumb show, and are as empty and misguided as those natives and will get an equally empty and dismal result.  What if it's all bullshit stage business completely divorced from a real ... well, a real anything?

DUMPLING:  You certainly like to torture yourself.  All this is a just a ridiculously complicated way to simply ask "What if there is no God?" or "What if AA is bs?"  Not to mention, there is so much needless drama, (conveniently ignoring the results we get from AA, by the way) with that line of questioning anyway.  And that interpretation of the story.  Personally, I can see a whole different point to your Cargo Cult fable.

GIBLET:  Not everyone gets results from AA you know.

DUMPLING:  I have.  And you have, when you're not throwing yourself around the kitchen, wringing your hands and wondering when it will stop working or if it's all pointless.  Not everyone treating their cancer gets results from chemotherapy, either.  Does that mean that no one should use chemotherapy?  It's a simple Program, sure, but addiction is not a simple problem -- so to reduce it to such a simplistic level is doing yourself, and your program ... and AA ... a disservice.  Because it's such a reduction that it becomes a distortion.

GIBLET:  Okay, maybe ... but the Cargo Cult story is still a good analogy for a group of people doing an empty ritual to no avail.  They built a landing strip, but they didn't get what they wanted.

DUMPLING:  Ah, but what did they get?

GIBLET:  What are you talking about, they didn't get anything, that's the point.

DUMPLING:  No, they didn't get airplanes with chocolate and trinkets, but that's not to say they didn't get anything -- they just didn't get the specific result they thought they wanted.

GIBLET:  Right -- they didn't get what they set out to get.

DUMPLING:  But that's not the same as them not getting anything.

GIBLET:  If you are about to say they didn't get what they wanted but maybe they got what they needed I am going to throw up right here and now.

DUMPLING:  Well go stand over the sink, because that IS what I'm saying.  Your little fable ends too soon.  It needs a Second Act, a Chapter Two, a ... a ... an epilogue!

GIBLET:  And what would that be?

DUMPLING:  Well, did they get airplanes full of crap?  No.  But in working towards that, maybe they learned other things, got other things.

GIBLET:  I'm going to be sorry I asked, but ... what other things?

DUMPLING (shrugs):  A greater sense of community.  A new understanding of engineering principles.  An insight that their leadership was screwed up -- the specific what-they-got isn't the point -- the point is that just because they didn't get what they set out to find doesn't mean they didn't get great stuff -- stuff that was ultimately of much greater value to them than chocolate bars and trinkets.  Thus, it doesn't even matter if there's something at the other end, it's the doing that's worthwhile anyway.

GIBLET:  I thought you said there was nothing on earth worth more than good chocolate.

DUMPLING:  Shut up -- I'm making a great point.

GIBLET:  Yeah, if you live in the Pollyanna Universe.

Dumpling slams their coffee mug down on the table and Giblet jumps.

DUMPLING:  No.  No, no no no NO.  I hate that and I reject that.  Just because something is a positive or uplifting interpretation doesn't make it any less valid or possible or important or substantive than your piss-all-over-everything negativity.

GIBLET:  I'm not negative.  I'm realistic.

DUMPLING (suddenly furious):  My God!  Have you met you?  You are nothing BUT negative!  You love to be negative!  It's bullshit, is what it is, because you don't have the balls to feel hope and embrace optimism and look for the sunlight!  It's easier and safer to just keep dragging around, acting cool and saying everything is crap -- then you never have to risk disappointment or rise to a challenge or actually do anything!  It's much easier and more fun to ponce around the house talking about how life sucks, AA sucks, God's a fantasy -- and every time I say anything positive you just make fun of it!  You know what, I don't need that!  Being negative is easy, any child can stomp on a sandcastle.  You know what's hard?  Building the sandcastle!  Keeping faith, even if you think it's silly or stupid or... or ... Pollyanna.  What's so stupid about looking for the good, anyway?  What's so unrealistic about that?  It's such a cheap trick, equating the negative with realism.  But you know what's really hard?  Constantly listening to your faux sophisticated cynicism...

Dumpling stops abruptly, suddenly hearing what they've said, realizing they've gone too far, and covers their face with their hands.  Giblet opens their mouth to respond, and then closes it.  Slowly Giblet rises from the table and stands, looking down at Dumpling.  Dumpling lowers their hands from their face, looks up at Giblet and seems about to say something.  With a roar Giblet whirls and throws their mug against the wall, where it shatters with a crash.

Blackout.

Curtain.

shwish-thunk, shwish-thunk, shwish-thunk...

DUMPLING:  What did your sponsor want?

GIBLET:  He was talking to me about the 10th Step.

DUMPLING: "Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it."

GIBLET:  There's no one here to give you an "A" you know.  You were like, a total kiss-ass in school, weren't you.

DUMPLING:  What?  I was just providing exposition, that's all.  Jeeze.  What did your sponsor have to say to you about your 10th?

GIBLET:  Oh, he was all "You need to keep the lens clear so the light can come through... regular writing will do that... daily maintenance equals daily reprieve... " blah blah blah.  He's okay and all, but his analogies ... jeeze!  And, oh my God, don't get him started about pizza. He has ruined pizza for me with all the pizza analogies.

DUMPLING:  Oookay.  Nice attitude.

GIBLET:  No, no, I get it, it's just ... I didn't get sober to do homework every damn night.

DUMPLING:  OOooh, he wants you to do a written 10th Step every evening, that whole "when we retire at night" thing.

GIBLET:  Has anyone ever told you that your propensity to quote AA literature is more annoying than it is informative?

DUMPLING:  Yes.  Every time I do so with a dry drunk.

GIBLET:  D'oh!  Good one!

DUMPLING:  Thank you.

GIBLET:  I just don't see why writing it down every night is any better or more ... anything ... than just kind of making amends as I go along in my day and all.  I'm a "spot-checker" not an every-night-writer.

DUMPLING:  Well I like his analogy about keeping the lens clear.  Think of it like the windshield wipers on your car.

GIBLET:  Oh my god, is this about my brakes again?  You will NOT let that go.

DUMPLING:  No, no, no.  But like, picture yourself driving in the rain.  I know!  Let's do a visualization! 

GIBLET:  <sigh> Okay.  But in the visualization my brakes work fine.

DUMPLING:  Fine. Fine.  Your brakes are fine, and you're driving in the rain.

GIBLET:  Am I in a hurry?

DUMPLING:  Shut up.  Go with it.  Close your eyes.

GIBLET:  While I'm driving?

DUMPLING:  I'm leaving.

GIBLET:  No no no ... I'm closing my eyes.  See?  Eyes closed.

DUMPLING:  Okay.  So, you're driving and it starts raining, and you turn on your windshield wipers.

GIBLET:  shwish-thunk.  shwish-thunk.  shwish-thunk.  That's my windshield wiper sound effect.

DUMPLING:  Yeah. I got that.  And you know what?  Every shwish-thump of the wipers...

GIBLET:  Thunk.  It's shwish-thunk, not shwish-thump.

DUMPLING:  What?

GIBLET:  You said shwish-thump and it's shwish-thunk.

DUMPLING:  I am going to shwish-thump you in a minute.

GIBLET:  Thunk.

DUMPLING:   Look, what happens if your wiper only goes shwish-THUNK once?

GIBLET:  I can't see, because the rain fills the windshield again.

DUMPLING:  That's right.  So think of writing your 10th Step every evening like your windshield wipers -- once, or rarely, doesn't keep the windshield, or, like your sponsor says, the lens, clear.  It has to be regularly wiped ... or you can't see.

GIBLET:  Huh.

DUMPLING:  You see, your alcoholism is like the rain...

GIBLET:  Yes, yes, yes, I got it, I got it!  God!  You don't have to spell it out for me.

DUMPLING:  Oh.  Okay, then.  Good.

GIBLET:  You're feeling pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren't you.

DUMPLING:  A bit, yes.

GIBLET: <mutters>  insufferable.

DUMPLING:  I heard that!  You can put that, and that crack about me being a kiss-ass in school,  which you didn't exactly clean up in the moment, Mr. "I'm a Spot Checker!" on your inventory tonight!

GIBLET:  shwish-thunk.  shwish-thunk.  shwish-thunk.  What's that?  I'm back in my visualization, I can't hear you over the pouring rain!  Shwish-thunk!  Shwish-thunk!

DUMPLING:  Oh my god!  I hate you!  I am leaving!

GIBLET:  What's that?   Sorry, no can hear ... shwish-thunk! Shwish-thunk!

" ... there's a BOMB in your purse!" A play in 37 lines

GIBLET (shouting up the stairs):  Hey, Dumpling, where's the garage door remote?

DUMPLING (shouting down in answer):  I think it's in my purse.

GIBLET (still shouting up the stairs): Where's your purse?

DUMPLING (shouts back down again, exasperated):  Where I always put it!  On the chair by the door!

GIBLET: Okay! Jeeze!  You don't have to give me 'tude.  I just asked a question.

GIBLET crosses to the DUMPLING's pocket book and opens it

GIBLET (screams):  OH MY GOD!

DUMPLING (comes running downstairs):  GIBLET! What?  What?  Are you okay? What is it?

GIBLET:  There's ... there's a BOMB in your purse!

DUMPLING: A ... a bomb?!?  Oh! Oh, honey ...

DUMPLING laughs a little

DUMPLING:  Oh, honey, no.  That's not a bomb, that's my alcoholism.

GIBLET:  Your ... what?!?

DUMPLING:  My alcoholism.  It's always with me, so I decided to just put it in my purse where it would be handy.

GIBLET:  Your alcoholism.

DUMPLING:  Mmm hmmm.  Did you find the garage door remote?  It should be...

GIBLET:  Your alcoholism.  In your ...

GIBLET looks in purse again

GIBLET:  Oh My God!

DUMPLING:  What now?

GIBLET:  Is it ... is it ticking?

DUMPLING:  Well of course it is, honey.

GIBLET:  It's ticking ... like a countdown?  Like it could go off?  When will it go off? 

DUMPLING:  I don't know, exactly.  But every 24 hours I can reset the timer, and so far that seems to keep it from finishing its countdown.

GIBLET:  What if you forget to reset the timer?

DUMPLING (shrugs):  Then I guess eventually it would explode.

GIBLET:  Could you ... could people ... you know, get hurt?

DUMPLING:  If it goes off?  Oh yeah.  Absolutely.  People could die, actually.

GIBLET:  You've got to get rid of it!

DUMPLING (smiles):  Yeah, well, science one day may accomplish that, but it hasn't done so yet.  For now ... and for the foreseeable future ... it's always with me.  So that's why I decided, what the hell, it'd be handier if I just kept it in my purse.

GIBLET:  Is it heavy?  I mean, is it heavy to carry around?

DUMPLING:  Sometimes it seems that way.  I used to carry a lot of other bags too, of course, so naturally that made it more difficult to manage everything.  And all that other baggage, I mean, it was a lot.  Handling them all at once I occasionally forgot to reset the timer, but I guess I remembered in time.  Now I don't notice it so much.  The weight I mean.  I'm kind of used to it.  And of course I have a lot fewer bags than I used to, too.

GIBLET:  Well, that settles it.

DUMPLING:  Settles what?

GIBLET:  I'll help.  I'll carry it for you sometimes.

DUMPLING:  Awww, you really are sweet, you know.  But that won't work.  If you try and carry it for me, the timer just goes faster.  And I think it gets heavier too.  I'm afraid before you got it back to me it might go off.

GIBLET:  Well, is there anything I can do?

DUMPLING:  Not really.  I guess you just let me worry about resetting the timer on my alcoholism so it doesn't go off, and you worry about ... whatever it is you should worry about.

GIBLET (suspicious):  And what, exactly, might you be implying?

DUMPLING:  Nothing dear.  

Periodics - Part 2

"The Periodic" -- A play in 29 Lines

GIBLET:  You needed to go to the store?

DUMPLING: Yeah, but I was just going to take the bus, no big.

GIBLET:  No, don't do that, I'll give you a ride.

DUMPLING:  I thought your car was messed up.

GIBLET:  My car's not messed up, it's great.  It works fine.

DUMPLING:  I thought there was a problem with the brakes or something.

GIBLET:  Sometimes.  Only sometimes.

DUMPLING:  What do you mean, "only sometimes"?

GIBLET:  The brakes are fine.  No problem.  It's just, you know, sometimes they don't work.  But, you know, sometimes they do.  It's no big deal.

DUMPLING:  So... you have a problem with the brakes.

GIBLET:  No.  No, I don't.  A lot of the time they work fine.

DUMPLING:  Let me get this straight:  Sometimes you hit the brakes and they work, and the car stops.  And sometimes you hit the brakes and ... they don't work?

GIBLET:  Yeah.  But, only, you know, like I said, only sometimes.

DUMPLING:  So ... you have a problem with the brakes then.

GIBLET:  No, I told you -- God!  Why is everyone such a pain about this?  The brakes work just fine.

DUMPLING:  Sometimes.

GIBLET:  Fine!  Right!  Okay, sometimes. 

DUMPLING:  And sometimes... they don't.

GIBLET:  But sometimes they do.

DUMPLING:  And... you want to give me a ride.  You want me to get into a car that ... you drive around in a car where sometimes you hit the brakes and the car doesn't stop -- and you have no idea when this is going to happen.  And you don't think anything's wrong with that?

GIBLET:  God, I forgot how negative you are.

DUMPLING:  I'm negative?  You are driving around in a car where the brakes don't work!

GIBLET:  Sometimes!  Sometimes!  God, are you like, deaf?  Sometimes!

DUMPLING:  Giblet, I can't even ... I don't even know where to begin with ... look, brakes are not a sometimes thing -- if sometimes you can't stop, that doesn't mean that sometimes you have a problem.  You always have a problem if sometimes you can't stop.  Are you ... am I getting through?

GIBLET:  What is the matter with everyone?  Why is this such a big deal?  There are plenty of times when my brakes work fine!

DUMPLING:  Look, maybe if you get some help with ... I mean, have you taken the car in to a mechanic?

GIBLET:  Oh, my God! What a nightmare. Yeah, but at the garage they were all, "This car needs work, this car has a problem..."

DUMPLING:  Your car DOES have a problem!

GIBLET:  Okay!  Fine!  But sometimes it DOESN'T!  God!  Why doesn't anyone get that?

"Things Seen and Unseen, Things Believed and Not Believed." Dumpling and Giblet, a (very) short play in 2 scenes

"The prosaic steel girder is a mass of electrons whirling around each other at incredible speed.  These tiny bodies are governed by precise laws, and these laws hold true throughout the material world.  Science tells us so.  We have no reason to doubt it.  When, however, the perfectly logical assumption is suggested that underneath the material world and life as we see it, there is an All Powerful, Guiding, Creative Intelligence, right there our perverse streak comes to the surface and we laboriously set out to convince ourselves it isn't so." -- "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's "Big Book") pgs. 48 - 49, Chapter 4, "We Agnostics"

__________________________________________________

SCENE 1

GIBLET: "What's this?"

DUMPLING: "A physics text book."

GIBLET: "Oh. What are you reading about?"

DUMPLING: "Physics."

GIBLET: "Ha. Ha. Ha. What in physics are you reading about?"

DUMPLING: "Quantum Theory -- all about how the laws of the physical universe on the microscopic scale, like atoms and molecules and electrons and stuff, and the laws of the physical universe on the macroscopic scale, like the forces between galaxies and stuff, don't really line up."

GIBLET "I thought those laws were universal or something."

DUMPLING: "That's what they used to think, but now they've discovered that there are some things that don't line up.  Like the laws that govern how the molecules in that table interact with each other don't seem to quite cover the way galaxies and stuff in space interact with each other."

GIBLET: "Weird.  You know, I always thought that was wild, the way a scientist just says, 'This is the new fact' and we all just go, 'Oh, well, he's a scientist, so that must be the way it is.'  I mean like that table, it looks like it's not moving, but some guy in a lab coat says, 'I'm a physicist and I know about this' and says that at a microscopic level which we can't see there are electrons and junk flying around, and so in a whole other way the table actually is moving, even though it looks like it's not -- even though I can't see the electrons and all -- but Dr. Physics says they're there, so we all go, 'Ok!'."

DUMPLING: "I guess you have to start from a basic assumption that some people have studied or seen or experienced something and that they're telling you the truth."

GIBLET: "Well of course. Otherwise how could you ever learn anything."

__________________________________________________

SCENE 2

GIBLET: "What's this?"

DUMPLING: "Kind of a spiritual text book."

GIBLET: "Oh. What are you reading about?"

DUMPLING: "Spirituality."

GIBLET: "Ha. Ha. Ha.  What kind of spirituality?"

DUMPLING: "Well, the idea that if you have a problem that you can't beat on your own and admit that, and then decide to follow a sort of spiritual path, and follow the recipe that this book lays out, you can have a spiritual experience and connect with a Higher Power.  It's all about that there are spiritual forces in the world you can tap into which will help you with the problem you can't beat on your own."

GIBLET: "Sounds ridiculous.  'Spiritual forces' -- I mean, come on. That's so lame."

DUMPLING: "Well, the people who wrote this book claim first hand experience.  They say that they didn't make it up out of their heads, they figured it out from trying different things and getting information from a bunch of different sources -- doctors, other people who had the same problem, some religious people..."

GIBLET: "You shouldn't believe everything you read."

DUMPLING: "I know. But ... I've met some people who tried what the book said to do, and they claim that it worked for them."

GIBLET: "Probably crazies -- or they want money from you or something.  People who believe in any of that spiritual crap are just kidding themselves.  Or come on, they're weak. They need something to lean on or... something.  'Religion is the opium of the masses.'"

DUMPLING: "Actually I think heroin is the opium of the masses.  Or TV maybe.  Heroin or TV,  I'm not sure."

GIBLET: "Funny.  Anyway, you can ask a hundred different people about this kind of thing and get a hundred different answers.  There's no real evidence for any of it."

DUMPLING: "Well, I guess you have to start from a basic assumption that some people have studied or seen or experienced something and that they're telling you the truth."

GIBLET: "Nah. I don't buy it."

Make sure you're solving the right problem -- Make sure you're solving the real problem -- Part 2

Our first example from Part 1:

Dumpling regularly gets in relationships with mean men.  They are sarcastic and unkind and do not treat her with respect.  Dumpling has a big breakthrough one day, and realizes that she has a pattern of getting into abusive relationships.

Is Dumpling's solution to never get in a relationship again?  Is the problem relationships?  Is the problem relationships with abusive men?

Sobriety is not about saying "no" to life -- it is the very opposite of that.  As I heard in a meeting just recently, "go through the open doors."  What I need to do when I use the tools of recovery is to divine where -- and what -- the open doors are.

It's silly to read, but not too crazy to imagine, that someone who's been badly burned in relationships might decide that the solution is to never get into a relationship again -- or that they are "too broken" to handle relationships -- or that it's always the "other person" that is the problem, that there just aren't any "good" partners available.  But aren't all those conclusions (which, to be clear, are false conclusions) just various ways of saying "no" to life?  I say "no" (well, I say "no thank you" actually, because I am the soul of courtesy) to my disease, but I don't say "no" to life.  And whenever I conclude that saying no to my alcoholism equals saying no to life I have reached a false conclusion.

Also, aren't those false conclusions just a melodramatic pose which allows someone to make big sweeping statements, ("All men/women are assholes/bitches!", "I'm never getting involved again!", "I'm just not cut out for relationships!") but not make any real or substantive changes in how they pursue a relationship?  Or make any real changes in themselves?  It's easy to stand around and make dramatic statements, shaking your fist at the heavens like Scarlett in the turnip field, "With God as my witness ... !"

Sure, Scarlett, till the next person comes along and your dramatic statement, which is not an insight that allows you to make any changes it's just something that feels great to say, is as easily set aside as Ashley for Rhett (just to finish up our "Gone With the Wind" analogy there).

The key in sorting this all out is in the inventory.  The key is (almost) always in the inventory.  Because, in our example, Dumpling can't change anyone or anything but Dumpling -- and to do that, she needs to get clarity.  An inventory helps you untangle your resentments (both real and imagined) and your fears so you can determine what the real problem is -- generally defined by my character defects, to use AA-speak -- and then find the solution that matches it.

(HINT: The real problem is almost always going to be how my character defects, my "instincts out of control" as the 12&12 puts it, drive me to keep making the same choices over and over again but expecting a different result each time -- and how my character defects allow me to live in fantasy, to indulge in magical thinking rather than live in reality; life on life's terms.  Once I have the problem -- my character defects in a situation -- defined, I pursue the solution via the 6th and 7th Steps of AA, which, to paraphrase them, are about being ready to change and then asking for God's help in making that change happen.)

When last we left our heroine, Dumpling had determined that she had a problem with abusive boyfriends.  Hurt and angry, on the advice of her sponsor,  Dumpling did a four column inventory on her ex-boyfriend(s).

In the 1st column she wrote "I Resent" at the top, then crossed that out and tearfully wrote in big, dark letters, pressing the pen so hard she nearly tore through the page, "I HATE" -- and then in the space below, wrote her ex's name.  Let's call him... ummm ... Giblet.

At the top of the 2nd column she wrote "Why," and under that wrote "You know what that asshole did to me?" -- and then in the space below she listed everything that came to mind, everything Giblet ever said or did that upset her:

"He used to joke all the time about my weight in front of his stupid friends.  And all his nicknames for me were totally demeaning, like 'Dodo' and 'Dumpster' and that time we went to the beach he called me 'Beach Ball' all day.  And half the time he forgot his wallet and I had to pay. And he canceled our big plans the day before Christmas, instead of me coming over he said he wanted to spend time with his Dad, but then when I asked him after Christmas what they did, he and his Dad didn't do anything special at all! What did he expect me to do on Christmas day, with no notice -- the whole world already had plans! Asshole! And I know he was lying about other girls at the end.  Especially that one neighbor of his.  Something was totally going on there.  She's such a whore.  And ... "

Dumpling went on for about three pages in a similar vein. 

When she paused and looked at what she wrote it was certainly familiar -- it could be the text of any conversation she had with a couple of her friends on a regular basis.  They would sit at Starbucks and have mocha lattes and talk about their boyfriends -- or ex-boyfriends.  They laughed and called it "Sex in the Sober City."  Dumpling's sponsor, in a move both insightful and annoying, as most of her sponsor's moves were, pointed out that part in the Big Book that says "to conclude others were wrong was as far as most of us got" -- or something like that.  Thus, it's on to the 3rd Column in the four column inventory.

I should tell you that Dumpling's diligence was driven by the fact that her sponsor cut her off.  "Dumpling," her sponsor said, "Don't call me again till you have an inventory on this, and you're ready to read it to me.  If I listen to any more about Giblet I'm just enabling you to live in the problem and obsess on it.  Which, face it, is a form of self obsession."  That bitch!  Dumpling had half-way made up her mind to fire her.  Whenever people shared about their sponsor in meetings it always sounds like a really nice guidance counselor or something! How can her sponsor say "Don't call me again till you've written an inventory!"  What if Dumpling wanted to drink?  I should fire her. I will fire her! I...

I should finish this inventory, Dumpling thought.

At the top of the 3rd Column Dumpling wrote, "Affects My" and then under that, wrote "It totally messes with my..."

She liked this column, it was easy.  It was just like multiple choice:  Self esteem, pocketbooks/personal finances, ambitions (as in dreams or goals), personal relationships, sex relationships...  She went through the choices from where her sponsor had pointed out where they were listed in the Big Book and matched them to each of the items in her rant in the 2nd Column:  Demeaning nick names?  Affects my Self esteem. Check.  Forgets wallet?  Affects my Pocketbook/Personal Finances. Check. Self esteem. Check. Personal relationships. Check. Self esteem. Check. Self esteem. Self esteem. Self ...

"Well I didn't need to do a damn inventory to figure out that I have a problem with self esteem," Dumpling thought, "I could have figured that out from watching Oprah."

But writing it over and over in the 3rd Column, seeing how many examples of what happened between she and Giblet (Giblet and she? Giblet and her? Whatever.) involved her self esteem was, you should forgive the expression, quite sobering.

And then... the 4th Column. 

"My Part" she wrote at the top. The 4th Column is where Dumpling would look to see where she had been selfish, dishonest, self-seeking or frightened. To look for her part in things;  to see what her share of the responsibility was for how the relationship played out (The Big Book actually uses the word "blame," as in "where were we to blame?" -- a loaded term for most alcoholics until her sponsor pointed out blame is, in this case, just another word for "taking responsibility.")

Dumpling wasn't much for praying, despite all the talk about it in meetings, but she stopped for a minute and said under her breath, "A 'lil help here, God, on this part. Thanks."  She meant it when she said it, and time and again she'd been told that was all that mattered.

She took a deep breath, and thought, and then wrote:

"I kept coming back for it, over and over.  I didn't like those nicknames, and I never really said anything about it. In fact sometimes I laughed and pretended it didn't bother me (Dishonest).  And I knew he was a jerk for a long time, but ... "

She paused for a moment, and marshaled her courage, and then went on.

"... I was afraid that if I didn't make it work with Giblet that was it -- that no one else was coming along. (Fear) And I like being someone's girlfriend (Self Seeking).  Every time he forgot his wallet I said that I didn't mind, and that I was happy to pay, and that it didn't matter. (Dishonest).  And it made me feel more secure in the relationship to be paying for things (Self Seeking).  And secretly I liked what happened at Christmas, because then he 'owed' me. (Selfish. Dishonest.)  And I don't know for sure for sure that he slept with his neighbor while we were going out (real or imagined, she thought) and ..."

Dumpling continued, surprising herself even as she wrote at what was coming out the end of her pen.

Later, after she had read the inventory to her sponsor (whom she decided not to fire) together they came up with what her character defects might be in the context of romantic relationships, specifically her relationship with Giblet.  Playing the victim (not speaking up for herself, not saying "No" loud and clear), keeping score, feeling superior (that one surprised her, but if you are dating someone you think is an asshole then on some level, hand-in-hand with thinking this is all you deserve is some sick thing about feeling "better than," Dumpling's sponsor pointed out.)

The biggest surprise that came from the inventory was not only her resentment towards Giblet, but Dumpling's resentments and regret towards herself, for being the kind of gal who keeps dating guys like Giblet.  "Remorse is resentment turned inwards" her sponsor said, pointing to where the Big Book mentioned that (her sponsor had a really irritating habit of saying things and then pointing them out in the Big Book.  It made her great over coffee but a total drag at parties.)

Dumpling had a sneaking suspicion that at some point there might be some amends -- amends! -- she might have to make to Giblet, but there was NO WAY she was ever going to see him again, let alone make amends for anything.

"Balk at the Step you're on," her sponsor had advised.

And when the time came, boy, did she.

   

Make sure you're solving the right problem -- Make sure you're solving the real problem -- Part 1

Sometimes I need extreme examples, things put in black and white.  It lets me compare the shades of gray I encounter in my life against those extreme examples and see exactly where my character defects, my character assets, my alcoholism, my recover and my fluency with AA's Steps and the tools of recovery fall on the scale.   

Plus, it does me no good to apply the tools of recovery to a problem if I first haven't used the tools of recovery to divine what the real problem actually is.

   

So let's say you know a young woman.  Let's call her ... ummm ... Dumpling.

Dumpling regularly gets in relationships with mean men.  They are sarcastic and unkind and do not treat her with respect.  Dumpling has a big breakthrough one day, and realizes that she has a pattern of getting into abusive relationships.

Is Dumpling's solution to never get in a relationship again?  Is the problem relationships?  Is the problem relationships with abusive men?

   

Let's say you know a young man.  Let's call him ... ummm ... Pepperoni.

Pepperoni regularly goes online and spends way too much money on books and clothes and nicks and nacks.  His online spending is beginning to get in the way of paying real and serious bills like his car payment and rent, etc.

Is Pepperoni's solution never to go online again?  Is the problem that Pepperoni doesn't make enough money?  Is the problem the websites Pepperoni visits?

   

Let's say you know a little dog named ... ummm ... Kippy.

Kippy regularly eats all the food in his bowl, all the food in the other pets' bowls, and any food he can scrounge, plus the occasional expensive loafer or tv remote.  Kippy's weight is getting really out of control.

Is Kippy's solution to never eat again?  Is Kippy's solution to rely on someone else to control his food for him?  Is the problem that Kippy is always hungry?