My Aching Back
Nothing profound today, folks, except that I have a greater appreciation for how my granddad used to get around. About three weeks or so ago I injured my back throwing huge logs around for the big college bonfire we did at the Tulsa Workshop. And then I went backpacking for four days with an 80 pound pack. The pain hasn't been too bad since, until yesterday morning after a night of volleyball. I can hardly get around now, and when I do it is in a stooped over position. Guess it is time to see Mr. Doctor, even though I hate that and it is going to be another hit on my savings. Standing up gets pretty difficult at times. Hopefully it is not too serious.
On a totally unrelated note, seeing people drunk makes me really sad. It is hard to explain the disappointment I feel when I am around someone who is drunk or getting drunk, especially when it is is a good friend. It is like watching someone slip away into a fog and be replaced by something shallow and unreal. I literally feel like I lose a friend for a while. Nothing constructive or good happens, it becomes impossible to have good conversation, and the justifications for doing it just get more ludicrous. "I'm not really drunk, I'm just choosing to act this way," "I'm not really drinking, I used to have a lot more," "This is the first time I've had any in a long time." Only getting tipsy on three beers, two shots of Jeagermister, and a huge glass of wine is somehow responsible, mature drinking because you used to have 17 shots and 12 beers. I wish the decision came down to more than losing control somewhat or losing control completely.
My life has changed the most during times of intense exposure of my real self. Sitting around a small dining room table late at night, for example, and playing a silly version of truth questions with playing cards that turns into a deep session of college students revealing their innermost fears that leads to the most soul-searching confessions which in turns into an hour long period of prayer..... this is how people grow. If alcohol was involved, none of it would have been able to go beyond the silly part.
On a totally unrelated note, seeing people drunk makes me really sad. It is hard to explain the disappointment I feel when I am around someone who is drunk or getting drunk, especially when it is is a good friend. It is like watching someone slip away into a fog and be replaced by something shallow and unreal. I literally feel like I lose a friend for a while. Nothing constructive or good happens, it becomes impossible to have good conversation, and the justifications for doing it just get more ludicrous. "I'm not really drunk, I'm just choosing to act this way," "I'm not really drinking, I used to have a lot more," "This is the first time I've had any in a long time." Only getting tipsy on three beers, two shots of Jeagermister, and a huge glass of wine is somehow responsible, mature drinking because you used to have 17 shots and 12 beers. I wish the decision came down to more than losing control somewhat or losing control completely.
My life has changed the most during times of intense exposure of my real self. Sitting around a small dining room table late at night, for example, and playing a silly version of truth questions with playing cards that turns into a deep session of college students revealing their innermost fears that leads to the most soul-searching confessions which in turns into an hour long period of prayer..... this is how people grow. If alcohol was involved, none of it would have been able to go beyond the silly part.