PoM 166
“I am for peace; but when I speak, they are for war.”
Psalm 120
Every one of the neighborhoods in San Francisco has a commercial street.
We were walking down, our street, Chestnut Street, at a crossing, with Gummy in a carriage.
An apoplectic, well-dressed man and his wife, in a fine car, came dangerously close to my family, crowding us.
I pushed Alona and Gummy through the crosswalk, turned and faced the car, him with his 3000 pound car, and me with my defiance.
He backed down. We exchanged one vociferous, vituperative volley and went our separate ways.
A few paces later, I asked Alona if she felt embarrassed and/or scared. She said “Both”.
My job is to take care of my family. Love always protects…
But also, so I don’t take myself too damn seriously, I apologized to Alona and said:
… I dated a girl once, who said to her best girl friend, who was complaining about her male lover, “If you want the man that acts like a woman…date a lesbian.”
PoM 167
I polished my 10 ounce digital food scale that I carried on the back of a bike through a 1000 mile bike ride, with Alona, in six South East Asian countries.
It’s my altar. It’s where I sacrifice to the Food Boss.
PoM 168
There’s an article on the front page of the San Francisco newspaper today claiming that African-Americans have been discriminated against in the discipline and bondage/Sado-masochism porn market.
“We have no opinions on outside issues” in 12 step.
But, it does say in our Lighthearted Offices that “In a society without God…Sex is God”.
PoM 169
Step Eight on using, or at least trying to use people:
I manipulated every powerful person in the music business that I could introduce myself to.
I couldn’t manipulate John Cage. He was too smart for that.
But, I tried to manipulate a Pat Martino, the greatest jazz guitar player in the world into playing my music.
I tried to manipulate Shelley Shultz of International Creative Management, my mother’s agent, into representing me.
I tried to manipulate Joe Pass, the greatest bebop guitar player in the world, into letting me get into The Great American Music Hall to see him for free.
I tried to manipulate the Columbia Records executive and producer of John Cage’s 25 Year Retrospective, George Avakian, into representing me.
When I am in my obsession, which is 98% of the illness, I am as slippery as a greased eel, on the Fourth of July, in the noon day sun.
PoM 170
People have said I was crazy since I was five years old…
Let’s say that that is accurate.
If the Second Step is true, and there really is a God, then God says He “could” restore me to sanity (ie. health).
Let’s look at what is clearly insane:
Sanity comes from the Latin word “Sanitas” which means health.
If God is going to restore me to sanity, it might be helpful to know what that means, so that I recognize it when it happens, and actively help participate if I can…cause God won’t do for me what I can do for myself.
If I don’t work out, I will manage my anxiousness with food, prescription medications, nicotine and over-the-counter medications to handle my feelings.
Then to counter that, caffeine and speedy OTC meds seem reasonable.
Air, water, food, sleep…and exercise are the most fundamental aspects of health.
I choose to live in San Francisco because the air was so bad in Atlanta where I lived for 25 years and the air is clean , cool and pure here.
I drink only cold distilled water. No other beverages.
I weigh and measure all my food on a digital scale because I can’t be trusted to eat properly.
Each night before I go to bed I set my timer to see that I get 8 hours of sleep….and I journal it every day.
I work out with running, push-ups and yoga regularly.
Salvador Dali used to say, “The difference between me and a crazy man…is that I am not crazy. “
I’d like to take credit for it…but it was God, ever so slowly, God.