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This past weekend, I went back to my college campus for the first time in at least eight years. In fact, I’ve only been sober on that campus a few times… and none of them were when I was actually enrolled there.
I took my family back this weekend because a niece graduated from the school. The ceremony was awesome, and it was the perfect Mother’s Day weekend for both my mom and my wife. It was a fantastic time, and I need to thank my sobriety for it. It was one of those times where you’re very grateful to be able to be present.
I felt especially grateful about being present at that exact place on earth, because it created some remarkable then-and-now moments. My wife and I reminisced fondly about all the different landmarks and restaurants and bars around town, and we both grumbled about how many cool local businesses have been replaced by high-rise apartment complexes and glossy chain restaurants.
But as we kicked around fun old memories, I couldn’t help but constantly have not-so-fond drunken insanity in some of the exact same locations that I was standing in now, 20 years later as a sober person.
There was that side street where I tried to fight 10 guys.
There was that random house where I peed in the same guy’s bushes every time I limped home from the bars.
There were multiple spots where I almost got arrested.
There was a spot where there used to be a newspaper machine that I picked up drunk one night and threw, smashing my own hand on a slab of concrete.
Oof.
It all just made me think about how lucky I am to have gotten out of that game. I was able to stand in the same spots where that idiocy happened, and I could hug loved ones and laugh about the good times and yes, eat some of the shitty chain restaurant food and enjoy it, and I didn’t have to drink or do any drugs this time around. It felt like redemption to me.
And as I made these new, beautiful sober memories, I also was able to laugh about what a giant, fun idiot I can be even without drugs and alcohol. Case in point: I rented an electric bicycle and was ripping around on campus on it, chasing my kids around, riding it over bumpy grass, trying to pop wheelies… all stuff a 45-year-old guy should probably not do. You can probably guess where this story is going.
On our final day there, my 8-year-old wanted to try the bike. My wife thought it was a terrible idea, and of course, it was. But she got on the bike and I explained how it worked, cautioning her that once you start pedaling, it jumps forward pretty fast. I promised her I would run along side her and she’d be fine, and those were hilarious last words.
She hit the pedals and the bike took off faster than I could keep up with, and within five seconds my kid was wrecking the bike. She managed to roll off unscathed, but I tried to hang on as long as possible. The bike went down and I began a long faceplate into the grass. At the last second, I managed to duck my head and do a complete flip onto my back.
I landed on the ground and wondered immediately if I was dead, but I was actually pretty much fine. My hand is pretty banged up, but otherwise, I am upright and healthy. My 8-year-old jumped up and said she was okay as I scraped myself off the ground. When people realized I was alive—and oh boy, there were at least 25 random people watching—everybody died laughing. Think about the sight off a 45-year-old big dumb blockhead flipping over a bike on a quiet Saturday afternoon. Yeah, pretty funny, huh? Proving once again it doesn’t always require alcohol or drugs to bring out my inner dipshit.
This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:
HEARD AT MEETINGS: “In his infinite wisdom, my Higher Power gave me one mouth that closes and two ears that don’t.”
(Credit: AA Grapevine, June 2003, Larry L. from Fayetteville, Georgia)
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