I lay my head on the railroad tracks

The 13th anniversary of my sobriety came and went last Monday without much comment. I mentioned it to my wife and my shrink but neither of them had much reaction. "Congratulations," they said as if I'd told them I mowed the lawn (which may actually turn out to be a harder task than 13 years of sobriety). But I guess I shouldn't have expected much. It's something I do for myself (although not by myself), so it's not really their approval I need.

I've been spending a lot of time listening to Warren Zevon lately. His absurd, dark and surreal sense of humor seems to be the perfect soundtrack to my workplace these days. The people around me seem to smile when I blare "Poor Poor Pitiful Me" from the speakers (except for one guy who likes to get my goat by saying he prefers Linda Ronstadt's version). I started reading the biography written by his ex-wife. It's not really a bio as much as it is an oral history - much of it sordid and unflinching, like his music. I wish it were more about his music actually, but it's a pretty good read so far. Anyway the man was a textbook alcoholic. Reading about his struggles with brings back many awful memories of my own struggles. I guess the term is "There but for the grace of God go I." But it's pretty potent stuff. I'll write more about this later, but I'm running out of steam for the night.

Lots of things on my mind. The book project is almost done. God only knows what I'm going to do with all the excess bile without my editor to vent my spleen at. I think I've already started taking out the anti-climax out on my wife.

My employer looks like it's going to be bought. Unlike a lot of my collegues, I don't fear losing my job. The way I read the tea leaves, I think most of my collegues and I should be safe. If not, I honestly think I'll look for something to do outside journalism. I don't know what yet. Not gardening, that's for sure.

Well, I should have made this list on Monday. Better late than never. It's my annual gratitude list.

1) My family
2) My sobriety
3) My ability to sustain a living as a writer and editor
4) Warren Zevon and all of the musicians who inspire me every day of my life
5) Elizabeth: You're not supposed to have a sponsor of the opposite sex, but I will never forget what she did for me while I was sobering up. She doesn't answer my e-mails anymore. I don't even know where she is. But wherever she is, there's not a day that goes by that I'm grateful to her for saving my life. So I send out good vibes to her, now and forever, wherever she may be.
6) Ross, the closest thing I have to a sponsor now. We don't see one another much. But I'm always grateful for his friendship.
7) my ability to express myself musicially. A guitar still feels good in my hands. Much better than a bottle.
8) Gerry and John, my mentors at work. They almost make coming into work fun. Almost.
9) Tony. My network of friends has dwindled to maybe one handful. But with friends like him, you don't need many more.
10) My sense of humor. I don't think I would have made it through 13 years without it.

I guess I should have saved an entry for my so-called Higher Power. I believe in one. I'm just not always on speaking terms with it. Anyway it's out there somewhere. But I don't want talk about it here. I think I'll just drift off with the strains of Zevon wafting through the thick May air.

Sweet home Alabama
Play the dead band's song
Turn those speakers up full blast
Play it all night long.