ENGRAVER--NOT! IN THE GRAVE--ALMOST!

A note to Ces. Click on her name and view some extraordinary art by an extraordinary peep. I was commenting in her blog post, and (as happens frequently) I found myself writing a blog post--on HER blog! Imagine--grin! So this is my comment, here, instead of ummmm, there:

Engraving_by_derranged_gadgeteer (in Deviant Art)

 BLOG COMMENT

Ces, there is a reason why your drawings (somewhat-etching-looking) and art, appeal to and interest me so, aside from the fact that you are a master (mistress just didn't look good in this comment).

--In Cincinnati Ohio, during the early 1950's I applied for a job as an engraver apprentice. (Yesss, I was one of those musicians who had to supplement their income.) 

We were given a cutting tool, a piece of soft metal, and told to make "hundreds" of little marks in a very compact (SMALL) space. With an infinitesimal amount of instruction, then left on our own, we  future "American Engravers Society" members, on stools at long work benches, set (sat?) out to be tested on our "promise" as tomorrow's engravers. 

Out of 27 applicants only one passed the test--me. And I really wanted that job. And I was told "Come back tomorrow".

So excited was I about this job with its earnings potential and expectations, that I, so happy, felt like making merry. For me, reveling or rejoicing was in those days a lonely affair. One liter of cheep vodka--the kind you could still taste two days later--and some beer to keep hydrated. And the food? Well, none of that sort of thing for MY celebration!

As it turned out, the phone woke me 'early', about 11 AM. Boss wanted to know where is his newest employee? I gave him my "dentist pulled the wrong tooth" story, dressed, and went in to my new job. The foreman took one look at me, and I knew the jig was up. Discovery that their new "engraver-to-be" was just another common drunk, hurt me more than it did the engraving business.

Did they not realize that I would one day be essential to their very own business plan? Evidently not. My career ended ignominiously, as I should have presupposed. This was not my first encounter with peeps who just "did not understand" genius.

And so life rolled on....and on.

Today I am sober.
And I am REALLY not a genius...or had you guessed?
But I still love you, peeps!

--steveroni

CUT BACK AND CUT OUT!

POEM???


Take away my shoes
Take away my socks
Take all of my toys
Even my building blocks

I'll keep my Hershey bars.
Drive away my two cars
Take away my favorite bike
Help yourself to what you like

Carry off my so precious fiddle
On the hill play "Hey Diddle Diddle"
If you dare touch my Hershey Bars
You'll be the first on Planet Mars....

S'pose you know by now
That I've gotten fat--even how.
(By eating lots of cacao bean
Hiding it, so's not be seen)

So never ever even think
Offering me spicy food or drink
Will wrap me up and tie me in a knot
To loosen the hold on my chocolate.

DIETING:  DYING OR LIVING

For a week now I have been trying to "watch what I eat" read: not eat.  Just want to lose a few pounds, say 20-30 or so.  Anyway, I am only FOUR fewer than when I started,  according to some.  But I see it as a total loss of EIGHT pounds, because had I continued on my  ch-ch-ch-chocolate-and-cheese diet I would have gained four pounds. Is 4+4 not 8?

If anyone has bothered to read that paragraph...does it make sense?  I mean, my arithmetic!

After years of becoming and achieving the status of a stark-raving-raging-mad  chaos-driven (and fat!) alcoholic, the arithmetic I learned was 0 drink + 1 drink = Total drunken wreckage!  Because one drink ALWAYS (I NEVER had "just one") led to another and another, until...sweet oblivion. Understand that for YEARS it was not like that...but, little-by-little my body adjusted to the drug amounts, and I had to keep having more and more...just in order to get the "effect", to "again experience the sense of ease and comfort which comes at once from taking a few drinks...".

If I went to a party, I ALWAYS brought my own bottle, so I would not be embarrassed to drink whatever I (by then) needed, to be really and truly what I determined as social.

AND...I was forever the great pretender, pretending that I was shober-ash-a-shJudgeh in any situation. I prided myself on my capability--capacity--to drink more than anyone, and be able to "hold my liquor". What a farce! The few Peeps who cared at all wondered, "How long before he dies?" (I was age 38-40 then.) And I guess I was really trying to kill myself with alcohol.

Well, in AA I found out that I had ZERO tolerance for alcohol.  The only way I could live was to NOT take the "first drink". Finally that made sense to me.  Simple, yes.  Easy? No!  But anyone will have to admit this works...if I don't take that first drink I will never get drunk.  For me it is the only thing which works.

Soooo, back to my diet.  If I stop eating, I'll never get fat and I'll die!  On the other hand, when I stopped drinking, I THOUGHT I was dying...and soon began to live, and later to really live, and now--sometimes--to be blest with a peacefulness beyond understanding.

Go figure!

Meanwhile, will you try please, to:
Stay sober with me today?
Smile today, with me?
Harbor no ill will or resentments today?
Be at PEACE today?
Be full of LOVE today?

TAKE CARE!

BY CHANCE? OR NOT!

AMERICA'S COFFEE HOUSE

A CHANCE MEETING!  

AREN'T THEY ALL??

Starbucks takes a couple of my bucks before every rehearsal. This morning I gave the the Barista my order--Venti Bold. A man just ahead of me in line said he'd have the Mild. Out of my big fat mouth--it shocked me--leaped the loudness of one word, "SISSY"!

Some day my mouth will get me killed, but not today--yet.

I found myself next to the same fellow at the condiment cupboard, he said that he cannot take Bold coffee at 9:30 AM. So I told him (what else?) that in past times I was frequently found passed-out-drunk by 9:30 AM. He responded with "Me, too!" So, within seconds of the first time, I was shocked once more. Here I am, in a matter of few  seconds running into a stranger who--as you will see--is one of US!

He said he was sober 6 years, and asked me...so I told him 35 years. Since I DO go to lots of meetings I wondered aloud why I've never seen him? "In which AA meetings would I find you?".

He went through a litany of the meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous where he USED TO go; USED TO be a regular at my home group 7 AM meeting, USED TO 'attend' the Serenity Club; USED TO go to the New Attitudes Club; USED TO be at the cookie meeting; USED TO "hit about two to three meetings a week"; USED TO have a sponsor; USED TO work the Steps, etc.

He then launched me into a brief discussion of the "YET's" in AA. His words: "I have not totaled four cars in 3 weeks--YET; I have not been in jail longer than a month--YET; I have never been to prison--YET; I have never hit my wife or children--YET; I have not killed anyone--YET; I have not gone back to that chaotic life where alcohol was my God--YET! A small patch of sand and weeds under the Gordon River Bridge is NOT my home--YET!"

When we had done with that, I got him to agree to meet with me at the 7 AM AA meeting Monday morning (today) and we'd "do" coffee after, or maybe breakfast. OK!

Something entered my brain then, which refused to remain there, and so I said to him--and to myself, "One way to avoid all those "YET's" is to not have so many "USED-TO's"

Peeps, he and I intend to stay sober tomorrow--with you.
I love you, I really do!
Peace is for all of us!

Life is SO much simpler, easier, if I let go and let God...than NOT!

FRIDAY...RIDE THE BUS

ALCOHOL vs ME...

Sometimes, as I look back, I realize that I once was almost run over by a large bus. The approaching bus was (is) alcohol, and I had been sitting on the street, asking to be run down. Finally I boarded the bus which was named "ALCOHOL" and guess where the bus at long last stopped? Right at your front door--a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous!

How appropriate! I've been thinking--and saying--for years, that "God brought me to AA, and AA brought me to God". Well, now I know it was BOOZE which brought me here (of course, God allowed that!).

Without my old friends--Bourbon, Scotch, VODKA, 190-proof stuff with the brand name "ALCOHOL", Southern Comfort, etc., etc.--I'd never have found you. And I might have become and remained forever a non-drinking dolt, a dummkopf, an idiot.

So two notions come to mind (dangerous--for me--are 'notions' and 'mind'):

1. I owe alcohol. What? I owe alcohol respect, appreciation and admiration. The power alcohol has--for me--is second only to the Power of God Himself. I thank my friend alcohol for bringing me thus to a life of peace, happiness, love, serenity, and fulfillment. This friend sure was (and could evermore be) a hard taskmaster. He made me to fight right off from the ropes day after day, week after week, and year after interminable year.

Unaware, I fought doggedly for the right to be here. Now that I AM here, I can see, hear, touch, feel, think, and BE. I could never do those things before you showed me the way, people--you members of Alcoholics Anonymous!

I used to be consumed with my 'wonderful' self. I have found that frequently now I am consumed with love and gratitude...to you all, and to my God!

2. I owe someone else. Who? I owe whoever is on that 'bus' (which is named ALCOHOL) to be waiting for them at the end of the line. Whenever he or she arrives, there must be someone to meet and greet them with a smile, a handshake, maybe a hug.

And I will welcome them into a life of freedom. Freedom from fear, freedom of choice, and the real freedom I would offer is that freedom to BE. AA gives me now the freedom to be whatever I wish, the freedom to follow His will NMW (No Matter What!)!

And.....I shall not drink alcohol today. How about you? OK! That's what I thought! -grin!

Carmen: Hope you're still "with it"...

In Love and service,
Sincerely.
Steve E.

STILL IN THE FOG--A BLOG

Photo credit
One more "Foggy Morning" Story

BLOG: IN THE FOG,

THEN OUT OF THE FOG

A Bit Of Background:

Many moons ago I played violin in the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. After one season of particularly drunken experiences, I decided I might just chuck it all and resign (before I got fired, of course--you know how we are?). However, I did not have the intestinal fortitude to carry out the action: standing in front of the Maestro, saying, "I quit!"

So the next best thing was to pave the way, so to speak. So, early one foggy morning, I woke up on the river (and that experience is heavenly, by the way!), gathered all my symphony orchestra 'uniforms', and put everything together in a pile on the front deck of my scow, THOR. THOR was 32' long, 10' beam, 12-ton, double-hulled plywood boat. It was powered by a Willys 60 hp engine, with a 2-1 reduction gear. It was as powerful as a 'dwarf'-tug. Had all the comforts of home, I mean things like a toilet, shower, kitchen--yeah, like I needed a kitchen!

It was 6:30 AM, and I was drunk out of my mind, but I do remember (and was informed of) a few things. By the way, my wife of the moment witnessed the whole thing. NOTE: My recollection is that I met her (for the first time) the night before in a riverfront bar, and we got married there an hour later. The bartender officiated. It was a lovely wedding -BIG GRIN!!! The honeymoon--and the marriage--lasted until noon the following day. Our whole relationship, from first moment to the last final heaving breath had a life of fewer than 12 hours. Thank God! And then she wanted "Alimony!" -grinning-a-roni.

A ceremony was in the making, since I intended to drown my past into depths of the Ohio River. At 7 AM on the dot, I laid my full-dress suit (white shirt, white bowed tie, stiff vest, silk black socks, patent leather black shoes (they sunk right away). Following that menagerie was the next act, my formal 'afternoon' suit, regular black shoes, four-in-hand grey tie, white shirt, keys to my locker at Music Hall, my Union card, and several things I cannot remember.

Of course, this action-packed earliness of the day left me without 'suitable concert attire'. To this day I thank God that I didn't have my violin on the stack of throw-away stuff that morning. One thing was left on my list of ugliness that day--breaking the contract with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. I did this with a letter to the manager, and the Maestro--I could not, was not man enough to face them. Conductor sent me a real neat reply, which I have kept, urging me to reconsider, saying how much he'd miss me, etc. I believe his main concern was finding a suitable replacement.

AMENDED:
Four years after this incident, the orchestra enjoyed a TEN-WEEK tour to many countries in Europe, Asia...literally around the world. A few years later the musicians were making about $80,000 a year! That was my first lesson (NOT learned!) regarding our common phrase, beautiful, and so true: "Stick around until the miracle happens!".

My memory bank displays to me, even unto this very day, the following scenes.:

1. An eerie picture of my clothing floating lazily downstream in th fog, on top of the slimy, oily, filthy Ohio River waters....(I used to make coffee out of river water, scoop it up, boil it, drink, ahhhh! Never figured out what were those little flecks of whiteness in the water!)

2. The look on the face of my 12-hour bride, as she settled for a quart of Bacardi Rum (Dark) in lieu of alimony...

3. The feeling of complete FREEDOM, having shed my lady, my symphony job, and any reminders. Also I had enough money for a few weeks of booze, and I could always wheel-and-deal for some Valium, Librium, or any of the 'ums families of pills.

4. Two quarts of Smirnoff hidden under the generator housing on the roof on my shanty: emergency stash ONLY!

5. A climb up the hill to see what celebrities (the mayor of Front St and Bridge Ave, e.g.) were vomiting at the Do Drop Inn during early afternoon, and if any geezer was buying a 'round' for the house.

6. That sudden gleeful realization that my violin was still on board.

7. One full vodka bottle was still factory-sealed--my BREAKFAST for the following day. What COULD else--in the whole world--matter? You said W.H.A.T.???

Then God took over, brought me to my knees, and subsequently to Alcoholics Anonymous. AA took all that wonderful stuff away from me, and gave me what? Well.....GOD! SOBRIETY! COMPASSION! HAPPINESS! PEACE! SERENITY! LOVE! HEALTH! YOU! And God gave back to me......................ME! Thank You!

Love you bloggers, and now I'll arrange for some time to read and comment your stuff, on which I thrive....OH! so much!

It's been a busy, tiring, FUN, and "Filled-With-Blessings" week--I MEAN that! Now I'll get back to normal, but thank You, God--for the abnormal!

TURKEY IN THE STRAW???

NOTE: My writing on these blogs usually has
to do somewhat with recovery from alcoholism.
But I'm gonna deviate one day (maybe two)
and write about some things a bit more personal.

HEY FELLER! DO YA KNOW HOW TO

PLAY "TURKEY IN THE STRAW"?

If it might interest anyone: My violin is a Chanot (Georges), made in Paris (France, not Kentucky, guys!) in 1856 (before the Civil War?). It is a beautiful red color, the back is one piece, and the tone is superb.

Of course, the old joke is that someone will say, "Your violin has such a wonderful, resounding, clear, and mellow tone!" And the violinist (me) will put the violin up to his ear, shake it a bit, and say, "Funny--I don't hear a THING!" (Maybe ya hafta BE there?)

I've been playing since age five--that's seventy years (Why am I telling YOU this?), and you'd think I would know HOW to do it by now...Hmmmmm?

The TRUE story is that after not drinking for about six weeks, my sponsor asked me, "How is that violin sounding, now that you've stopped drinking?"

I had to answer truthfully: "Jim, it's terrible. The vibrato is wobbly, the tone is bad, it's out of tune, it sounds scratchy..."

And he answered without a second's hesitation, "Well, being sober has cleared up your HEARING, then!"

So, if you're following this far, I'll tell you that even my violin playing--which is much better these days--I attribute to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous.

So now I play weddings, funerals, a stage play or an opera now and then, the annual MESSIAH, A Baptist Living Christmas Trees (eight performances to 16,000 people) and lots of masses at my parish church. Of course, always I'm ready for club dates, as a strolling violinist, where I play show tunes, classical, and just about anything. Yessss, including "Turkey In The Straw"!

Thank you bloggers, I love you all, especially PG!

Who posted this blog?