Got up at 5am and found the garden quite light, a mix of starlight and moonlight, as if cloudy with phosphorescent chemicals. Usual yawning and intermittently insightful meditation.
Took the handsome Great Dane out for a stroll and waved to the new postman who rides his bicycle at high speeds with hands clasped behind his head. Dog very impressed.
Bumped into an old friend whom I knew years ago — the father of a friend of mine, off fishing on a river nearby for the week. He was always a grumpy and monosyllabic character, heart like a marshmallow, bark but no bite. He sobered up 11 years ago, he told me and is just as grumpy and monosyllabic as ever.
‘They keep telling me I’m a ‘dry drunk’,’ he said.The term ‘dry drunk’ is a derogatory and often slightly patronising term referring to people in AA who are sober but who seem less spiritually evolved than others. I assured him that I don’t think he is a dry drunk. Some of us might morph into the Sugar Plum Fairy or Pollyanna when we sober up, but perpetual happiness, sweetness, blissful Christmas-every-day does not really describe the grittier aspects of sobriety or account for those of us with less sanguine temperaments. My friend says his self-improvement got as far as staying sober and helping other grumpy old men to stay sober and no further. As good as it gets.
Posting this spoofy take on Dr Seuss doing Burning Man because I can’t get lines out of my head, recite bits to the dog as we walk uphill and stop to admire the hands-free postman.