Fear and Loathing on a Long Weekend

I figured I'd contribute to this thing finally, as I signed on earlier today, even filling out a profile, though unable to get a picture up. May be for the best.

After a disturbing Friday afternoon, I made the decision to fall off the wagon. For the first time in 2 years and 12 days, I had some adult beverages with my best drinking buddy and my wife, whom I hadn't hung out with in about 2 years or so. I behaved rather well, though points were taken off for playing too many Weezer songs in the first bar, singing along loudly ("THE WORKERS ARE GOING HOOOOME!!"), and trying to dance with every woman who passed by, including an off-duty police officer. Letting off some steam was all, though those around me who had caught my act in the past were rightly concerned.

First drink? Shot of tequilia and a beer. My main discovery of the weekend was it wasn't sobriety that was straining my relationship with my wife, as she chose to go out all night Sunday instead of hanging with me and the kids. I'll bet my newly paid-off car we had a better time, too. I just don't think she likes being with us. Hey, the door's right there, my dearly beloved. I could learn to refine my cooking abilities.

Funny thing was I was scheduled to go to an AA meeting that night. When those plans were ruined by Bad Events which I won't go into here, I went for option number two. Nothing had changed in those two years except the names of the bars, and the odd fact that smokers had to go outside. It was my first experience in this custom, and found that the fresh air wasn't all that bad, plus you tend to meet some interesting people while outside. I was quite the conversationalist. My therapist won't even know where to start this week.

Must read: Naomi Klein's article on China in the latest Rolling Stone, regarding their developments towards becoming a police state, and the help they're getting from American companies. For a look at what America will look like in about 10 years or so, it's really a crucial read.

I had forgotten what a great movie "The Pianist" is.

The Duke, my 8-year-old rockstar in the making, is in little league, being coached by a band of monkeys. One guy in particular was really yelling at the kids Friday while I was otherwise busy with other pursuits, calling them "lazy" and making them run laps for not obeying his every command. My friend, bless her heart, complained, though she was the only female parent there, arguing that calling 1st and 2nd graders "lazy" and implying stupidity in their actions was just balls-out goofy. She asked her boy if he was having fun or wanted to go home, he opted for going home, and she told him to get his stuff, telling the baboon of a coach to watch her taillights fade. He turned away from her and continued to yell at every little kid he could.

My dad took The Duke to practice that day and did nothing, of course. Here was a man who screamed and yelled at me from 2nd grade on through high school while I played the stupid game. I talked to my friend yesterday, however, and decided to back her up, since The Duke wasn't having fun this season either, choosing to skip a practice one day and continually relating stories to me about this particular asshole coach who obviously gets his kicks screaming at little boys.

I called the head coach and told him it wasn't just my friend who was concerned, but I agreed with her; the kids just ain't having any fun out there. He was puzzled, saying that as far back as he could remember, he was always getting yelled at on the diamond. I had to admit to him that, yeah, I was too, but my teams were always coached by my depressed alcoholic womanizing absentee parenting faux macho tobacco-spitting fraud lunatic of a father; I couldn't remember being yelled at by another man until maybe 6th grade. These boys are too young, I argued, while at the same time showing sympathy for his time and effort at volunteering to do a rather thankless and time-consuming job. I coached last year.

He didn't get it, but he said he'd "see what I can do to back it down a notch or two." Actually part of me hopes my friend's kid and The Duke, two of the best players on the team, decide they can do something better with their weekends and don't wanna go anymore. I'd love to pull him and sign him up for guitar lessons.

So I survived my falling off of The Wagon...not sure where things go from here but I also fired my psychiatrist Thursday so do I ween myself off of the pills and continue with therapy, or keep my date with a new shrink in a couple of weeks, since I know depression doesn't just go away and more than likely I'm going to need chemical aid?

(sigh) Who gives a crap? It's after midnight. I'm gonna go have a smoke and see what movie I can stumble into.

Coyote, I loved the religion clip, and though I swore off current events recently, I'm going to start slowly getting back into the swing of things by following tales of religious nutjobs. Let's make a point of it. Just a thought.

What the fuck, is this a post or a journal entry? I'm out.