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honeydumplin · 04-28-2014, 06:01 AM

As a child I can remember being overly sensitive to criticism, crying for no apparent reason, and not taking anything seriously. I wanted to fit in. When the little group that I thought was cool wouldn't accept me, like a lot of other teenage boys, I would get mad at my parents, and think that they were responsible for my not being accepted by my peers. As mischevious as I was,they were more than likely making decisions that were in my best interest, but I didn't know that.

We would in fact have co-ed parties at a very young age,and to this I was no exception. Needless to say, the hormones were raging, and usually there was some liquor around that had been from the parents in some form.

My father drank I.W. Harper then. He kept a bottle of it in a brown paper bag out in his shop in an old Coca-Cola machine that served as a makeshift refrigerator. Me and my buddies would sneak out there and wet our whistles between these adolescent games like spin the bottle, and seven minutes in heaven.

As youths, we didn't usually drink much, but then again, it usually didn't take much. Small sips of bourbon would make us feel cool, and we really liked that. To say that I was spoiled would be an understatement. One day at a family picnic, while standing knee high to one of my many uncles at an open car trunk, I watched as he fixed a drink and in one fell swoop turned up a plastic cup. Down the hatch it went, and when he brought the cup away from his mouth there was no ice or anything left at all. The only thing that crossed my mind was, that I really wanted to drink like that.

All the fancy bottles and seductive ads with lit cigarette and a juke box honky tonk in the background makes cocktail hour and a night on the town seem so glamorous. For some who can afford such a luxury, it may in fact be all that. Not for alcoholics. Alcoholics get to see the after effects of the love affair turned obsession turned addiction part where things start to wither away, including our mind and our soul. The advertisements fail to show drunks getting kicked out of the house, and everything they've got floating slowly away.

There's isn't anything romantic about alcoholism. But as far as A.A. Goes, stay thirsty my friend.

04-28-2014, 06:01 AM	#3
honeydumplin Senior Member Join Date: Aug 2013 Posts: 115	As a child I can remember being overly sensitive to criticism, crying for no apparent reason, and not taking anything seriously. I wanted to fit in. When the little group that I thought was cool wouldn't accept me, like a lot of other teenage boys, I would get mad at my parents, and think that they were responsible for my not being accepted by my peers. As mischevious as I was,they were more than likely making decisions that were in my best interest, but I didn't know that. We would in fact have co-ed parties at a very young age,and to this I was no exception. Needless to say, the hormones were raging, and usually there was some liquor around that had been from the parents in some form. My father drank I.W. Harper then. He kept a bottle of it in a brown paper bag out in his shop in an old Coca-Cola machine that served as a makeshift refrigerator. Me and my buddies would sneak out there and wet our whistles between these adolescent games like spin the bottle, and seven minutes in heaven. As youths, we didn't usually drink much, but then again, it usually didn't take much. Small sips of bourbon would make us feel cool, and we really liked that. To say that I was spoiled would be an understatement. One day at a family picnic, while standing knee high to one of my many uncles at an open car trunk, I watched as he fixed a drink and in one fell swoop turned up a plastic cup. Down the hatch it went, and when he brought the cup away from his mouth there was no ice or anything left at all. The only thing that crossed my mind was, that I really wanted to drink like that. All the fancy bottles and seductive ads with lit cigarette and a juke box honky tonk in the background makes cocktail hour and a night on the town seem so glamorous. For some who can afford such a luxury, it may in fact be all that. Not for alcoholics. Alcoholics get to see the after effects of the love affair turned obsession turned addiction part where things start to wither away, including our mind and our soul. The advertisements fail to show drunks getting kicked out of the house, and everything they've got floating slowly away. There's isn't anything romantic about alcoholism. But as far as A.A. Goes, stay thirsty my friend.