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And then there’s that old saying about cats…

Posted by on Monday, January 8th, 2018 @ 8:05 pm.

Well, it looks like I made it.

I hardly noticed one year fading away and the new one arriving.

I am not one of those who have some inexplicable need to promise myself I will either give something up or begin doing something just because another year has marked its beginning on a piece of paper.

I am one of those people who believe that if you have something you need to change in your life, be it something you should start doing or something that you need to stop doing, that it should be done or begin, as it were, rather than waiting for the turning of a calendar page.

Now I know that some of these things cannot be accomplished overnight, while others can.

For example, it took a bit of help from Dr. Watters here in Harrisburg, but it took a couple months before I could put down cigarettes and leave them down.

Cigarettes were one of those things that I realized I would be lying to myself if I acted like I could just put them down and never pick them back up ever again.

However, alcohol, while it is difficult or impossible for some people to give up, didn’t present any problems for me.

I would like to say I gave up these things, as well as others over the years, because I was just wanting to live more healthy.

Not so…

I gave up the smokes because the price of a pack of cigarettes was ridiculous.

But instead of quitting right away, I invested in a nice hand-crank machine that I could load a filter on one end and the tobacco of my choice in a tiny tray and make my own smokes.

Nope NOT cannabis.

(Yes I have tried it, and I am just one of those people who do not like feeling out of control and so didn’t like it.)

In fact, while the high lasted, I drove my high school friends nuts because I just KNEW that somehow the police knew I had just smoked weed and they would arrive anytime to arrest me and my life would be over as I knew it while I rotted in a prison cell and put up with torture.

I spent the next however many minutes snapping my head around here and there waiting on those emergency lights to be activated and the sound of screeching tires as SWAT slammed on their brakes and commandos jumped out and yelled at me specifically over the sound of helicopters hovering overhead: “ITS OVER!!! GET OUT OF THE CAR DIRTBAG!!!”


I’m okay…

Needless to say, once the high wore off, my friends swore they would never again put themselves through that.

And as time passed they started treating me like I was some kind of undercover informant for the local drug task force, which didn’t exist back then.

So there’s another example of why I really didn’t have many, if any, friends while growing up, either— but I digress.

Don’t get me wrong, I think most all drugs should be legalized and their use controlled by our existing laws such as public intoxication (from whatever) and driving under the influence of an intoxicating compound, etc., etc.

And as for drinking…

I have spent more than a few nights at the Poplar Street Bar here in Harrisburg, communing with a retired judge, a prosecutor, most of the politicians in the area who say publicly they don’t like me (and who really knows; they’re politicians after all) and those who had been assured by the PSB management that I was not there to write about their sordid life story.

Not the type to get falling down drunk as a general rule, I did like to drink and did so frequently, mostly in the privacy of my home or at the PSB.

The way the booze was ousted from my diet happened when I was down at the farm in Richland County one hot evening.

Knowing that we were going to be spending the night at the farm, my bride and I stopped in Olney, picked up some munchies and visited Marilyn’s Liquor Cabinet and came away with a case of beer and other adult beverages to aid in the chilling out of a couple of oldsters.

Fast forward: I had been mowing for several hours and was on my third beer when I took a break from the riding lawnmower and went into the farmhouse for something.

While there I disagreed with my bride about one thing or another and she proclaimed that I had had too much to drink.

Whether or not she was correct was never the issue for me.

What was the issue was that she had grown up around abusive adults who grew more abusive when they ingested alcohol and I didn’t want to be a reminder of that time in her life, but there was more.

I am probably one of the most stubborn individuals most people know.

When I sink my teeth into a matter and decide I am going to do a thing, it is not in me to ever stop pursuing that thing.

And so I informed my bride that I believed that she was incorrect in her assessment of my alcohol intake given the amount of time that had passed between each beer and the average temperature of that very hot afternoon/evening, however I informed her that I was done drinking.

She thanked me for my willingness to make sure I did not upset her and we both quickly forgot whatever it was we had disagreed about. 

“You can have another beer if you like,” she said.

“Thank you but, no,” I said in appreciation of the gesture. “I do not want there to be any doubt about my ability to regulate my alcohol intake. I am done.”

“Well maybe we can take the rest back to Harrisburg so it doesn’t sit here at the farm and go bad,” she advised.

“Hon, when I said I am done, I mean I am ‘Done Done,’” I said. “It’s just not worth any concerns you have in the back of your mind.”

“Well that’s sweet,” she said with a big smile, “but let’s take the beer back to Harrisburg in case you change your mind.”

It’s been well over a year and what’s left of the beer never left the farm.

The Poplar Street Bar has closed and I have realized I didn’t go there for the booze anyway.

I went there to talk to the owner who had unexpectedly become a friend.

Not that it ever was done begrudgingly anyway, but as time has passed I realize I just don’t miss the alcohol that even I thought I might miss at times.

And so the value in this column is not what I have proven to others, but what I have proven to myself, and that is that I can do or not do a thing without waiting for some special day or some new year to roll over on my calendar.

But more importantly, for all those to whom I have made promises, good and bad, understand just because someone goes quiet does not mean they are not there, doing the exact thing they promised you they would.

And lying to yourself so you can sleep better at night will only change the look on your face when you realize I am smack dab in the middle of your life either right in front of you or am that thing in the background, behind that curtain that you know is there but you just can’t see and will never get your hands around.

Like the old saying goes, there’s more than one way to skin a cat, only, I like cats, it’s certain people I have a problem with… Meow, baby!

Short URL: https://www.disclosurenewsonline.com/?p=99055

Posted by on Jan 8 2018. Filed under 15.11 - Jan 2018, Surly & Uncooperative. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry

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