Tag: recovery
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Silence is Golden; Slumber is Final
The first time I went fishing with my grandfather was the last time I did anything at all with him, except for avoid his gaze, composed as it was of anger and disgust. I was about four, although physically I looked much younger. As a child, one of my goals was to be a midget […]
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Wouldn’t It?—Notes on the Texas Church Terrorist Attack
I write this with shame radiating from my body and soul. As an American, as a veteran, as a human being, I’ve just committed an act I’d never ever pictured myself doing. Living in the Great North Woods in a Tiny White Box, I don’t have running water, so I can’t take the shower I […]
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“But He’s a Muslim”
Next month I’m being awarded a prize, the Community Service Award, from the Turkish Cultural Center in Manchester, at their annual Friendship Dinner. I’m honored. I’m pleased. I’m flabbergasted. My first thought was they had the wrong man, but since they’d sent the invitation to my post office box in Pittsburg, that seemed unlikely. According […]
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Alcohypochondria–You Saw It Here First!
I’m not sure how one goes about declaring the discovery of a new disease, but I imagine describing its symptoms comes near the front of the train. The other night, sitting in a meeting, I mentally coined a word, alcohypochondria. While playing with the pleasing sound of it, I realized I had hit the triple […]
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Three-Dimensional Russian Roulette
I used to be addicted to heroin. I am addicted to heroin. I will always be addicted to heroin. Verbs melt and blend and lose their meaning when talking about addiction. And so does life. No matter that I have not been physically, medically, existentially addicted to heroin in decades. Once you’ve found the way […]
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A Fable
A certain man was a gardener, specializing in beautiful perennial gardens. Discarding modern, efficient techniques like fertilizer, irrigation and rotation, the man instead relied on intuition, caring and a search for perfection. For miles around, people came to see each year’s garden, observing the beauty of both change and continuity. The man was pleased to […]
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A Vietnam Veterans Death–“And of the dead, speak only truth”
How do you say goodbye to a drunk who didn’t get it? How do you pay proper respect to a man whose life seems to have been devoted to telling lies and manufacturing more lies to provide evidence for the first round? How do you miss a man whose corpse you discovered 10 months ago, […]
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Tiny White Box Profiled in Vagabond Monthly–Libel Suit to Follow
I’ve always wanted to be interviewed by Rolling Stone, the New Yorker or, even, Foreign Affairs Quarterly. (In this last, I’d hoped to outline my vision for a future Myanmar that would begin with changing its name to WeUsedtobeBurma.) Instead, the home I live in is now featured in another, less well-known magazine—Vagabond Monthly: The […]
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I Wasn’t an Alcoholic–I Just Drank to Stay Sane
Before I got sober, I’d only gone without alcohol for more than seven days three times since I was 13. The first two “extended dry times” led me to attempt suicide and end up in psychiatric hospitals—the third included talking mice, fireworks and long conversations with princesses. Let me explain. In March of 1978, I’d […]
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Art Fights Back: Chuck Palahniuk and Me
Life imitates art, but it’s not often art gets a chance to fight back. Here’s the true story of this picture. Chuck Palahniuk (pictured above in glasses) has written a number of books I (pictured above in terror) think are pretty great, including Fight Club (yes, THAT Fight Club), Choke and my personal favorite Survivor, […]
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A Fairy-Tale Memoir
A memoir in sonnets would be a great thing. While I’ve written sonnets, both Petrarchan and Shakespearean (in form, not talent), 14 lines seems too short to explain a decision to leave a job I loved to live in a tiny white box, much less a marriage, its slow demise and its aftermath. Hell, I […]
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Doing Time in Waukesha–A Prisoners Story
I’m not a for-real criminal, but I’ve done time. Three bids in fact. If being in a cell can be called a bid and if a total of about five hours in jail cells can be called time. Let me explain. I’ve been locked up three times. In each case, I was guilty, and in […]
Tiny White Box--Thoughts on Life, Death, Recovery, and Other Mundane Topics 