Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Day fifteen...Too much information.

I love my computer.

I really do.

It's quiet, and smart as hell with a bright, high-def, flat screen that I've become completely dependent on. It's pretty, well put together, still under warranty, and fast as hell. It likes the music I like and watches the same movies I do. It even goes for the dirty stuff.

It's my dream girl.

I certainly would not have been able to keep writing at the pace I have been without it. My handwriting is worse than my doctor's and typewriters are simply archaic. Right now I don't think I could live without it. Right now I don't have to.

But it has one very important flaw.

It lets me tell it what to do.

More specifically, It gives me all the answers to the questions I have without prejudice. And it scares the living crap out of me.

Last February, I had my first nervous breakdown. I had been pouring upwards of a liter of vodka down my throat on a daily basis. I had a few hours of rest to let my blood lick its wounds and then it was off to the races. I cancelled a lot of important engagements during the first part of last year. When I get to step nine I'll try to make amends to as many as I can.

All in good time.

My doctor had told me my liver was in rough shape and I should seriously consider halting any and all ingestion of my preferred toxin. My blood tests showed elevated counts in all the categories that mattered. If I didn't stop, I was going to be facing some serious consequences.

Well that's sure enough reason to get loaded right? Of course it is. And so it continued. And I would sit at my computer and-with hands that wouldn't stop shaking-Google all kinds of terms related to liver disease until I passed out.

I remember staring in the mirror as I held a flashlight in front of my eyes to see if they were yellow because that was what my computer told me to look for. Was I nauseous? Uh-huh. Fatigued? Damn straight. Were my extremities tingling? Well now that you mention it, yessiree. Tingle, tingle, tingle, I'm going to fucking die.

At least that's what my dream girl told me.

Among the many symptoms I may or may not have had, my computer did give me some good information. It led me to a respectable therapist who I've been seeing ever since. Thanks to my rock star income it's almost free. These days, it pays to be poor.

Today, my liver function is back to normal and it looks like I am indeed on the road to recovery.

But now I face a new challenge. My OUI. My second since 1989.

I may be sober now, but I still have a compulsion to look five steps ahead of me instead of taking a slow and steady pace. It's not easy to get the straight skinny on what I can look forward to in the days and years following my court date. Google '2nd OUI Massachusetts laws' and you will be presented with a myriad of choices which all look like they are websites created by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

They're not.

They're all lawyers and they all think they can piss the furthest.

I have a very experienced lawyer who I believe will fight like hell to get me the best deal possible. I have complete faith in him and I am sure he will advise me on the quickest way to get my life back in order.

And unlike my doctor, I won't immediately ignore his advice.

Something I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to do is check myself into a 2 week confined alcohol treatment center. The only one the state recognizes is in Tewksbury.



So I took my best girl for a spin and Googled said funny named town to see what I could expect.

Here's what she found out.

The town is older than Northampton if you can believe it. Settled in 1637. I can't imagined how on earth I missed the 370th anniversary. I bet it was a hoot.

Oh and this little tidbit. Apparently there is a piggery, yes a piggery that has been creating a foul stench for the past few years and the town is mad as hell.

From the website :

"The problem isn't regular fertilizing, or occasional normal farm smells coming from the farm or the petting zoo/pumpkin festival that are only in use a few short weeks out of the year. The problem is the extremely repugnant stench and pollution from the piggery, that is ruining the quality of life of people from Tewksbury, Wilmington and Andover. Often we can't open our own windows for fresh air. We can't make plans for cookouts, parties or gatherings. The people working at businesses here, cannot go outside for lunch!"

OK I'm back.

And now I'm mad as hell!

Not lunch! Outdoor lunchtime was and is an essential part of a puritanical lifestyle. I mean, how can we wag our fingers at the booze camp inmates out for their post Salisbury steak cigarette if we can't see them.
This piggery has gone too far.

A little more clicking and I found this little tidbit. A testimonial from a piggery hater:

"Well everyone the odor is awful. It's been slowly creeping back in since New Years. I know that we were told that the odor would be worse when the Piggery's land is frozen... I am sure with the past few cold days the land froze. So what now... How I knew the odor was back... I could smell it in my house... the Chimney flue was open...So much for wanted to light a fire too!" (sic)

I've always wanted to use the "sic" but now I feel so empty inside. I probably wouldn't have gotten the chance if the "repugnant stench and pollution" hadn't affected the proper grammar usage that Tewksburians so rightfully tout.

You can almost smell the sugar cookies cooling on the trivet if it weren't for all the pigshit!

My best guess is that I will be attending booze camp in the winter and so my easily offended schnoz will be spared the befouling of the local air.


More like Pewksbury.

And I know something else.

Something the locals are probably happy about.

I know that they don't allow any electronic devices at all at booze camp. At this so called Guano-tanamo Bay treatment center.

You know what that means sweetie?

That means we'll have to start seeing other people. Just for a couple of weeks.

I think it'll be for the best. Give ourselves a break and see if we really want to commit. No-no-no-sweetie. Don't give me that look. I love you too but this is something I think will really be important in the long run. Oh no. You're crying. Baby... I'm sorry. I just think it's for the best. Yeah, I know I said that already. But if we make it through this then we'll know for sure that it was meant to be. Come over here sugar. We don't have to decide right now. Let's put on that Tom Waits record you love and we can talk about it in the morning. OK?'s going to be alright.

I love my computer.

I really do.


Anonymous said...

WAY TO GO, ALEX! We're behind you 100% on "The Road..>" At least pigshit is good for a laugh, it will make a great song someday...

ina said...

You are a poet, Alex. You are the cyber-Shakespeare sonneting so well the love I also feel for my computer.

She's so smart, so willing, always there for me, and blind to all my faults.

I went searching for a YouTube of Townes' No Deal, 'cause it has this verse in it:

Well, I went to a doctor of the highest order,
he said I couldn't have a drink for a year.
One glass of wine on my birthday
if my birthday wasn't too very near.
Lord, he must have put me in a state of shock
'cause I made it for about two weeks;
then he sent me a bill
that knocked me flat off the wagon
and back down on my feet

...but I couldn't find it.

Instead I got two clips that add up to Dollar Bill Blues with one stanza missing, that seems important to copy here, 'cause of the piggery and all:

Mother was a golden girl
I slit her throat just to get her pearls
cast myself into a whirl
before a bunch of swine

a very young man, at the beginning

a much older man, near the end

Okay, ina, back to work!

Anonymous said...

I think my lawyer can piss farther than your lawyer...

I hope you have the best lawyer and the best possible outcome.

I hear that if you put VapoRub under your nostrils, it kills bad smells. That's what they use on the cop shows. You just be sure to take paper and pen with you and we'll find you someone to transcribe it all, This, too, will be an important part of your journey, the Tewksbury Piggery Blues, according to Alex Johnson.

I have a love/hate relationship with my computer, an iMac girl named Blue. She has a mind of her own--I think she, too, is an Aries. And, like me, she never shuts up.