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I was in a conversation recently about amateur wrestling with someone who was a former Division I college wrestler. I love wrestling so much—I’m a die-hard sports fan but college wrestling is No. 1 on my list.
At the end of the conversation, the guy asked me, “Did you wrestle in college?”
I immediately said, “Yes.”
Here’s the problem: I definitely did NOT wrestle in college. I had a nice high school wrestling career at a Pennsylvania powerhouse, but I did not wrestle in college. I wasn’t good enough to wrestle at that level.
And yet… it flowed right out of my mouth. No hesitation. No restraint of pen and tongue. My brain still can immediately reach for an answer and pull out the one that makes me look the best. Sometimes it’s a flat-out lie, like that situation. Luckily, since I have been sober, my ability and willingness to blatantly say something untrue has dropped way, way down.
But there’s a reason in court they ask you to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Those last two parts are where the trouble lies.
For instance, a few years ago, I remember one day when I told my wife I’d be home from work around 6. She said she had to run an errand as soon as I got home. Well, I rolled in around 6:30 instead, and she asked me what happened with the extra 30 minutes. I told her there had been a car on fire on the highway.
There had been a car on fire on the highway. But I drove right past the flaming car at 55 MPH. The whole truth was, I stopped at a gas station for a soda, drank the whole thing in my car and went in for a refill, ran into a friend, shot the s**t for 20 minutes, and boom, I’m a half hour late getting home.
The problem is, I didn’t count that as a lie at first. But it was. It certainly wasn’t the truth. I said it because it smoothed things over for me—it worked. But I can’t do that and stay sober. I just can’t. I know nobody really, truly was harmed by paving over the truth with some b******t. But my sobriety was harmed. I can’t do that very many times before it is a habit.
So I told her later that night something like, “Hey, I should come clean. There was a car on fire and a slowdown on the road, but I was late mostly because I screwed around at a gas station soda fountain for awhile. I’m sorry. That wasn’t very thoughtful of me and I won’t let it happen again.”
Now for that last part of the court swearing statement: “Nothing but the truth.” I remember at rehab, there was a guy who had been in and out of sobriety for many, many years. He had tremendous knowledge of the various 12-step programs, how rehab worked and had seen countless other people get sober. But he hadn’t been able to get it quite right himself despite multiple attempts.
About two weeks after I got to rehab, he pulled me and said some kind things about how hard I’d been working. I remember he said something about enjoying listening to me speak, but then he said, “Be careful, though. You have a silver tongue that will cause you golden problems.”
The more I think about that comment, the more I realize it doesn’t quite make sense. But I understood his point then to be that I speak well, and that I have to watch to make sure I don’t use my mouth to cover up for bad behaviors and actions.
Even if that actual sentence doesn’t make sense, I do think he made a good point—a point that remains true to this day. I have tried to use my words and humor to get myself out of bad situations, both before and after I got sober. It’s all a hustle to get out of the truth. It’s b******t talk masquerading as truth.
I guess that leads to one of the most important parts of recovery these days. It’s “to thine own self be true.” Most of the lies, or the untruths, or the not-the-whole-truths that I might tell don’t do much harm. So it’s possible that I get away with these minor scams to keep my nose clean.
But I am in real trouble when my internal radar doesn’t start beeping. Luckily, I have been in a place for a long time where my spirituality is just sturdy enough to have that voice in my head go, “Wait a second. That wasn’t cool.” The minute I start lying to myself, too… oof. I hate to even imagine where that road leads, but I bet it would involve my silver tongue causing me some very golden problems.
ALCOHOLIC/ADDICT JOKE OF THE DAY
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.
Typing an email message while tipsy could cause some serious harm. Consider the case of the practicing alky who left the snow-filled streets of Chicago for a vacation in Florida. His wife was on a business trip and was planning to meet him there the following day. When he reached the hotel after several drinks on the plane, he went right to the hotel bar and kept drinking. When he finally went up to his room, he decided to send his wife a quick email. Unable to see the screen clearly, he managed to type the message with one eye closed.
Unfortunately he missed one letter, and his email was directed not to his wife but to an elderly preacher’s wife, whose husband had passed away only days before. When the widow checked out her email, she took one look at the monitor, let out a piercing scream, and fainted. When her family rushed into the room, they saw this note on the screen:
Dearest wife,
Just got checked in. Everything prepared for your arrival tomorrow.
(signed) Your eternally loving husband
P.S. Sure is hot down here.
(Credit: AA Grapevine, June 2000, Jeff H.)
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