Last night was pretty awesome. I’m giving a little away here, but most who have read this blog will have guessed this already, I’m just going to confirm it. My wife, as she always does, gave me my 28-year coin last night. A rarity, my anniversary actually fell on a meeting night this year.
Normally, a bunch of us would go out to dinner and have a good three hour meal to catch up. Sadly, in this mess that simply can’t happen… unless you’re Gavin Newsome. In that case, go right ahead and break all the rules you made and yuck it up. But I digress. For us peasants, we must follow the rules because most of us are in this together. Or something.
I took a moment to think about this last night, but just a moment; it was a bit of a bummer that COVID screwed up my night this year. Of course, on the plus-side, at least I was at a real meeting last night and not on a Zoom call. Now, I could be a whiner and complain about how unfair this all is, and maybe even blubber on about how life sucks just a little bit, but I don’t roll like that. $#!+ is what it is. I think the whole thought process lasted less than 20 seconds before I balled that stinkin’ thinkin’ up and pitched it in my melon’s garbage can and got on with enjoying the evening that I had.
And a fantastic day and evening it was. I took my daughters to Popeye’s for their world renowned chicken sandwich. I got to listen to my daughters explain how much better Chick-fil-A is for most of the ride there… until they bit into their sandwich and all conversation froze in the air. My daughter hadn’t even finished chewing her first bite when her jaw dropped. I just chuckled. Yep. It’s that good. Back home, I got through some work and got ready to ride. I changed my plan and rode indoors to keep time from becoming an issue. After my ride, my wife went to pick up our usual Wednesday evening pizza dinner and I got the table ready. We rushed off to the meeting, and the rest will stay there, at Crankin’ Rankin… except I got my coin and had a wonderful meeting.
There is a chance the church will shut down, leaving us without a meeting place indoors, but we worked around that. If need be, we’ll meet at one of the guys’ pole barn and bring in a couple propane heaters to warm the place up. It won’t be ideal, but it’ll do till spring. In my humble opinion, in-person meetings are worth the risk. I need that face to face interaction, even if face-to-face is 10′ apart.
So there went another year. I started out an hour at a time. A few times I went down to seconds at a time, minutes at a time, then one day at a time till I had 365 of them. Then 364 days at a time till I hit 2 years. Another 364 and 3 years, and so on. Then five, ten, fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five years… all, one day at a time.
Kept simple, recovery’s given everything back that I gave up as a drunk. And it is good.