Walking On Broken Glass

not quite as romantic as poets and songwriters would have you believe

Alcoholics Anonymous

i went to an aa meeting monday night. it was a "young people's meeting" so the group was composed mostly of people in their late teens to early twenties, with a couple of old dogs here and there.

seconds after parking by the curb outside the church, i stepped out into the cold and promptly slipped and fell into about eight inches of fresh snow. i dusted off and headed into the church. i was extremely nervous at first. everybody there seemed to know each other from past meetings and i felt like i was the sole newcomer and that all eyes were fixed on me.

a couple of the regulars were selected for readings from "the big book" and, after the group leader went over the basics (we aren't a religious organization, a charity group, etc.), the hourlong meeting began in earnest. people volunteered their stories of struggle and dependency, always beginning with "hi, my name is (blank), and i'm an alcoholic." many of their stories mirrored my own, including details about family members who were also struggling with alcoholism.

at the end of the session, everybody in the circle held hands and recited a prayer i didn't know. i held the hand of the pimply blonde skater kid on my right and felt dozens of little twitches throughout his body. but still, it felt nice to hold hands with people, even strangers; it felt just like church.

before anybody gets any ideas, i don't have a problem with alcoholism. i accompanied a denver friend of mine to the meeting, out of the desire to support a friend, as well as more than a little bit of curiosity. afterward i carried with me a really positive feeling. not a bad thing for me these days.

i'm not an alcoholic, but i do quite like the stuff. in reasonable amounts anyway. since it's been snowing so much lately, i figured: "when life gives you lemons, fuck it. drink a lot of beer"

cheers

Denver Zoo

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Denver Art Museum

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