Responding to some misplaced concerns
Hello, my name is Jarid and I am not an alcoholic.
Over the past week, I have gotten several calls and e-mails advising me to seek out the support of Alcoholics Anonymous because in several columns I have made reference to drinking.
I even went so far as to post a picture of myself ” gasp ” with a beer in my hand. Apparently this caused several people to make a Grand Canyon-sized leap in logic and conclude that the only explanation is that I’m an alcoholic.
I have to say, that is a new experience for me. Not people responding to what I write ” but people actually caring about me.
Most of the mail and phone calls I get just want me fired or want me to die. If I’m lucky they just want me to perish quickly, but occasionally they spell out the manner in which I should expire.
Actually the can opener idea wasn’t half bad.
I spend a good chunk of my Thursday mornings listening and responding to the various angry calls and e-mails from my columns.
Yes, I do read them all and many of the less hostile ones do make good points that I consider when writing future columns.
Some call me a heathen, some tell me I’m a crude tasteless (word I can’t repeat) and one lady told me I was the reason the world was in such bad shape.
Really, it’s my fault, not dictators or war, disease or simply the fact that Hollywood made more than one “Air Bud” movie, but little old me?
And my mom wanted me to be an artist.
I have received communications from readers who are mad at me because I made fun of people sending get well cards to a horse. I got angry letters when I said it was idiotic that children were crying because Harry Potter might die. I even got a petition from the North Texas Tourettes Syndrome Support Group because I said my neighbors thought I had the syndrome.
I would hasten to point out that I have also made reference to liking sex and included several comments about accidentally cutting off parts of my body, both of which caused several angry phone calls from concerned residents.
One lady told me if her son cut his ear off, it would be on my head.
HAHAHA, the power, the unbelievable power!
Yet until last week, nobody expressed concern that I needed help, so to those who called with the local AA numbers, thanks.
For the record, I’m not an alcoholic, but me saying that isn’t going to convince anybody.
Before you start, yes I know, denial is the first step toward accepting that I have a problem but really, I’m not 12 and that joke wasn’t funny the first time there, skipper.
People see what they want to see, so to some I’m an alcoholic, to some I’m addicted to food and to a small portion of the population I am the living embodiment of God’s purpose in creating hair gel.
Do I drink because I enjoy it? Yep. Do I drink to escape reality? Completely. Do I drink because I like the way it makes me feel? Yeppers.
Here’s the thing … that’s why everybody drinks. It’s one of those three reasons, we like it, we want to relax and not think about how bad life is or we enjoy the happy warm feeling.
So, how do I know I’m not an alcoholic? Because I don’t need liquor to get through my day and I am very aware of going too far because I have alcoholism in my family.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t like liquor, even sometimes in more than moderation and I’m OK with that.
Now, if only they had a support group for Doritos addicts.
Think I’m wrong? Tell me about it.