“It takes me six beers to reach the level, and from there I can start to enjoy myself”, he brags
“Son when you can fit in my pants you can tell me what to do” he says tipping another wine cooler on the drive to Idaho.
“Here is a twenty, go play video games and leave me alone to sleep” he slurs just before passing out in an Arlington parking lot.
“You drive Chris, your old enough” he says to his nine year old son on a Canadian highway after too much whisky.
“Ok Jenny, our hands are in your life” he says to his eleven year old daughter on the same day on the same Canadian highway miles further on.
“I was working, I have to work long hours” he tells his son and daughter after only seeing them for a few hours the entire week of Christmas break.
“I wasn’t on a business trip when you came for your visit on spring break, I was at a treatment center quitting drinking”
“I am so sorry for the things that I did while drinking, the time I should have spent with you and your sister on Christmas break I was doing coke and drinking” his words to his ten year old son.
“When I told you real men don’t cry, I was wrong, that was probably the worst advice I have ever given you”
“I’m sorry you have to keep doing this to yourself son. I love you, but you can no longer live with me” he says to his overdosed nineteen year old son.
“I understand more than you think, I’m the only one in this car that’s sober” he says to his delusional twenty year old son.
“If all you have is God you’re fucked; if all you have is AA you’re fucked”
“When someone refers to themselves as an alcoholic I don’t need any more explanation, I understand the suffering, torment, and the pain they experienced. No more explanation is necessary, I understand”
“My name is Scott and I’m an alcoholic, and I have sixteen years sober today”
Dad got sober twenty five years ago today, march seventeenth nineteen eighty seven. I got the opportunity to know him drunk and I got the gifts from him being sober. I hear a lot of opinions from people about AA who are not alcoholics, or heard rumors from someone that it doesn’t work, or that the people in AA all whine about not being able to drink anymore, and my favorite is that they are all just weak people. If you knew Dad, weak would be the last word you would use to describe him.
Twenty five years ago today I got to hear the last lie due to my father’s alcoholism and drug addiction. That “business trip” was the start of the rest of his life. On St Patty’s day nineteen eighty seven dad came to wearing a pair of green bootees and never drank again.
Happy twenty fifth dad, love your son.
Chris McQueeney 3/17/12 12:59 P.M.
Here is my submission for FF55 at Mister know it all, This is a poem with exactly 55 words
Full moon so fine
Full moon in the sky Do you see it there?
Floating by so fine
See how the light Strikes it just so
The angle of flight is Orbital,
Trajectory in the sky So low
Sad enough to watch It go
Sadder still is to know
It’s gonna fucking hurt
When that chick hits the ground
Chris McQueeney 3/16/12 11:38 P.M.