There were no signs posted on the road my life was taking as I grew up. Even the supposed 'cultural revolution' of the sixties (and early '70's): the Beatles, Ken Kesey, Timothy Leary, Women's Liberation and that whole ball of wax. No warning signs there (or ignored, at best).
Alcohol was not only socially acceptable (as was smoking cigarettes, really), it was expected. Alcoholism, like a thousand and one others, was a taboo subject.
The rooms of my childhood and adolescence were not big enough for all the elephants in those rooms. And the elephants in this room, the room that I am in right now, will not be recognized by me except in retrospect.
Self-justification becomes a way of life.
from "All Drinking Aside: The Destruction, Deconstruction and Reconstruction of an Alcoholic Animal," Chapter 49 (rough draft)
i put a piece of black tape on the dashboard to cover the "check engine" light. there. problem solved.
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