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Northern Harrier

Monday, December 19, 2022

White Christmas


I got a text this morning from the boys at coffee.


I showed up around eight o'clock and there was a rectangular wrapped box covered with Hanukkah paper sitting in the middle of the table. 

They told me to open it and there was a painted box with a smaller package taped inside it.

On the box is written I speak fluent sarcasm? Who me? 

Inside the smaller package was a straw, a bindle of unknown substance and a razor blade.


This is sort of funny. Because true confessions time, there was a period of my life, that I am not proud of, where I had a fondness for Peruvian marching powder. And next year and a week will be my fortieth year of sobriety from the substance. I stopped snorting the devil dust on December 27th, 1983 at 2:30 p.m..

I never once took ups, downs, heroin, speed or barbiturates (I was more of a psychedelic guy) but I had a definite hankering for the Andean chit chat flake and it did me no good whatsoever. I drew a line in the sand in 1983 and never once looked back. Didn't like the person I became with coke and didn't miss it a lick. Mostly. I joke that I miss the mannitol more than the chowder itself, kept me real regular.

My coffee friends are older but they have all been around the block and a couple had a sashay or two in the program. I am not proud of my past, I guess it was sort of fun when it went down but I am proud of making it near 40 years without. And counting...


Not going to open the bindle.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

anthrax

dg

Sanoguy said...

Obviously, they know you well!

Linda Wilson said...

That's great!

Anonymous said...

Love that!

Liz said...

Love you. Of course you don’t do drugs other than psychedelic and smoke. You did not want to end up lik mom or Don