Corners

"A Step You Can't Take Back"

So you find yourself at this subway
With your world in a bag by your side
And all at once it seemed like a good way
You realize it's the end of the line
For what it's worth

Here comes the train upon the track
And there goes the pain, it cuts to black
Are you ready for the last act?
To take a step you can't take back?

Taken all the punches you could take
Took 'em all right on the chest
Now the camel's back is breaking
Again, again
For what it's worth

Here comes the train upon the track
And there goes the pain, it cuts to black
Are you ready for the last act?
To take a step you can't take back?

Did she love you?
Did she take you down?
Was she on her knees when she kissed your crown?
Tell me what you found

Here comes the rain, so hold your hat
And don't pray to God, 'cause He won't talk back
Are you ready for the last act?

To take a step you can't take back, back, back?

You can't take back, back, back.

So you find yourself at this subway
With your world in a bag by your side

I've been binge watching this one show since last night, actually I've been fast backing and re-watching one scene over and over mostly.  The movie, Begin Again, is on Netflix right now and it  stars Keira Knightly and Mark Ruffalo. Mark Ruffalo plays a washed up, pickled music producer who is ready to cash in his chips. He's lost his wife, his kid, his career...he's stumbles off a New York subway train right after some Bible thumper hands him a pamphlet and tells him to go have a talk with God. As the train starts to pull away, Mark Ruffalo's character tells the Bible thumper that he is indeed fixing to have a talk with God. I don't know if he'd really throw himself on the tracks, that would make for a really short movie, but right then there is an announcement over the subway system intercom that the next train has been delayed due to maintenance  problems. Ruffalo tips his fifth of whatever up and lo and behold it's empty. The guy just can't catch a break. He stumbles up the subway steps and into a bar. There on the stage is Kiera Knightly, a songwriter who has suffered her own downturn of luck singing the above song.

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign?

The rest of the movie is about redemption and survival and finding that redemption and survival in what brings you joy. But the part I play over and over is Mark Ruffalo listening to that song, when he starts to imagine the instruments playing behind it and the arrangement in his head. The look of pure salvation and relief that sweeps over his features brings tears to my eyes.

As we say, you never know which corner your salvation is around, it could be a couple of miles up the road. Or it could be the one you're getting ready to turn.

Watch the movie.

What Is Sobriety To Me by Kary May Hickey

As a non-drinker who has stayed active in a moderation community I am often asked what my definition of sobriety is. Lately I've been saying that my definition of sobriety is facing life day in and day out without the influence of alcohol compelling or inhibiting us, whether that be through total abstinence or successful moderation.

But really it comes down to not being able to blame drinking for anything anymore.

Sobriety to me is having only myself to blame for:

1. Probably still fucking up the alphabet if I was pulled over for a sobriety test because I'd have an anxiety attack that would render me brainless and I wouldn't even have my old boozy coquettishness to fall back on.

2.  Still falling down the deck steps because I decided to traipse outside in the middle of the night in my slippers and nightgown to turn on my twinkly lights. (a couple of weeks ago)

3. Still wincing sometimes when I recall my latest sexual escapades.

4. Still not answering the phone after 5:00 pm.

5. Still erupting into inappropriate laughter when someone is sharing their most shameful experiences or secrets. This is why I would not do well at meetings.

6. Still having putrefying vegetables in my crisper drawer that have liquified into a seeping, odoriferous substance unknown to man.

7. Still excelling at procrastination.

8. Still possessing absolutely no fashion sense but an abundance of ambivalence and "mom jeans"  in various sizes in my closet.

9. Still only having the same four dance moves I learned in 7th grade- the bump, the robot, the hustle and the white girl shuffle. The good news is I don't inflict them on others as much as I used to.

10. Still facing each day trying to be the best me I can be and sometimes falling short of the mark.

Sigh. Oh, well.

Buddha Belly

I was out watering the flowers this morning and caught my reflection in the front door. Ok, the belly was covered but that's about the only difference.

But you know what?

I don't care.

The kids and grandkids are coming this weekend and I'm making home-made bread,  and chocolate chip cookies and macaroni and cheese...and they don't care if grandma has a Buddha Belly.

Beats the hell out of Grandma having a beer belly and being hungover or drunk all weekend.

Hey you up there, have I told you "Thank You!" today?