One Is Too Many; Ten Aren't Enough...

I Get A Negative SARS-CoV-2 Antigen Result

One of my favorite saws expounded by the nice Alcoholics Anonymous people (post title).

Damned Swiss Rolls!

And, so, on a 48 degree night that I could have handled quite well, and with 11 days of sobriety under my belt, I sat on the fence about going out to busk.

Would I run to Fred's Market for a half pint of brandy as soon as the first 5 dollar bill went into my jar? Or would I sit there and become lost in the intricacies of playing the guitar and harmonica at the same time as trying to remember the chords of some song, until an hour and a half had gone by, and I was scooping 58 bucks out of the jar and stashing it in my pocket, then spending only a couple bucks for Harold food on the way home?

Back when I had started on what turned into 1,387 days without a drop of alcohol, there was a guy named Jim, who was one of the artists who sold paintings near Jackson Square. He hung his work on the fence in front of the Jesus clock (right) as a matter of fact.

Jim was very encouraging of me. I would walk past him almost every night and give him a thumbs up, saying something like: "17 days!"

And Jim would give me back a thumbs up and say: "Good!"

Jim had something like 13 years sober. He didn't give up on me after I had gone 27 days, but then had found an unopened bottle of Chivas Regal scotch sitting in a box on the sidewalk along with other evidence of concluded revelry, like a half eaten cake and maybe a couple plastic party hats.

I had scooped up the bottle mainly because it was a 35 dollar value that I could at least sell pretty quickly for 20 bucks, I thought. But, later that night, I decided to try a sip off of it; after all, Chivas Regal makes a world class scotch...

On my way home from the Lilly Pad, I skulked past Jim with my head down, and a half full bottle of Chivas Regal in my backpack; no thumbs up that night. I started to explain about the unopened 35 dollar bottle, but Jim shook his head and said something like: "Tomorrow's another day," or maybe dropped another one of the A.A. maxims on me, like: "The next time you consider drinking, don't ask yourself 'Do I want this drink?' rather ask yourself 'Do I want to drink for the rest of my life?'" or one of those things that the A.A. people say.

"Human Food" Diet Concerns

Jim used to tell me that it was next to impossible to quit on one's own; and that I would have to go to A.A. meetings, and even offered to move some paintings around in his van to make room for me if I wanted to go to one with him. Apparently, he still attended them, even 13 years sober.

But, I went 1,387 days; and used Jim's words as motivation. ...next to impossible, eh? Well, I'm going to be one of those rare exceptions!

Jim may have said that because the Wim Hof Method had not come out then; maybe it's not so "next to impossible' with The Ice Man on your side. Plus, I was using a lot of meditation then, and in 2015 I had the fortuitous stroke of luck to have discovered kratom. 

I thought that kratom might have been the universe's way of rewarding me for my sobriety. In fact I had my doubts that it had even existed before I stumbled upon it; as if the Uxi Duxi appeared out of the ether, conjured as a manifestation of my inner frame of mind. It was something I had never heard of, and I was willing to believe that it had never existed until such a time that I was ready for it to come into being; as this world merged with the astral plane in that aspect. It became the anti-alcohol for me. 

My life had gotten better in every way over the course of the first 6 months of sobriety; but then I had hit kind of a plateau. It became possible to have an unremarkable day even without drinking. I then gave up the high fructose corn syrup that was in the 3 or 4 "energy" drinks that had replaced the bottle of booze by my side at the Lilly Pad. That brought me up one more level, after about 3 months. That was when I discovered kratom.

Kratom helped me focus my thoughts (I thought it might be the Ritalin I never had as a kid) and I even saw a noticeable improvement in my musical ability. It also brought my friend Jacob into my life (something that the jury is still out on deliberating the beneficence of; but that is a whole other post).

The only question now is if the neural pathways that I forged through that focused and intense playing have become etched into my physiology and, after not having had any kratom over the last 11 days, to go along with not drinking; I tend to think this is the case. It's as if I learned how to think a different way and now that the lesson has been learned, I am able to graduate from the kratom school.

Tomorrow will be 12 days sober and the 4th day of a juice fast; which should transition into a water only fast, for as long as it takes to get me to where the breathing exercises, along with getting 8 good hours of sleep and 45 minutes of sunlight, and God willing, taking an ice bath each morning, will be all I need to move to the next plateau.

Time to do another 3 rounds of Wim, then go to sleep. Hopefully I can nail down the song "Another Day," by Paul McCartney before going out to play during the day tomorrow. That is Lilly's favorite song and I can think of no greater sign that I'm on the right path than if she should walk up to me, and I can play it for her. After showing her my negative SARS-CoV-2 Antigen Test Result Card, of course. That would be about as complete as life gets.

"I bit off more than I could chew, and then I chewed as fast as I could" -The actor who played Crocodile Dundee, from some interview I read.

It seems like I'm fated to be going out each night with an "incomplete" sense of preparedness. Why couldn't I have learned a couple more Neil Young songs, so that I would have 5 of them in my repertoire, should I have seen the other side of that fence, and went out tonight? That particular bugger has been in the news, lately, and is already about the 5th most requested artist by tourists that come by the Lilly Pad.

The "Beatles Complete Scores" book, I need to go through and find all the songs that fit the keys of the 2 harmonicas that I have; that would take about 12 minutes to write them down, and another hour to familiarize myself with the chords of. The words, I have known since I was 11 years old...

It is a chore to be one's own manager.

I imagined a guy waking me up at 10 this morning, saying: "Time to get up, there's coffee on the stove! We're gonna spend a couple hours learning a couple Neil Young songs, then we'll sit outside in the sun for 45 minutes, then come back inside to go through the Beatles book. The warmest part of the day is going to be between 2 in the afternoon, and 6 in the evening; we need to be at the Lilly Pad and playing for those 4 hours; but, first, let's do 3 rounds of the Wim Hof Method Breathing exercises, before elevating your heart rate with the coffee!"

But, there is no such person. It would be nice if I had 3 or 4 roommates who were all buskers, and who practiced their material in the other room than where I slept, and every morning, they were running through 3 or 4 new songs. Or, I should say it will be nice when that situation arises, as, through the Law of Attraction, I am already looking forward to it and feel grateful and happy about it...

It is not lost upon me, the fact that when I do reach retirement age (whether that is 60 or 70, I don't know and will have to Google) I will be at liberty to move away from here.

But there is something about the way I was drawn here and the deep subconscious foreboding that I can't deny dwells within me; that the purpose of my life; or at least the circumstance where I stand to make the most progress in my spiritual evolution is to stay here and fight it out; i.e. to learn how to love a race of people that are predisposed to hate me, and to conquer them with love.

Sure, I could move to somewhere in Idaho where there will be nobody but other white people, and spend my golden years there, but would I be sulking and longing for the Lilly Pad for the remainder of my life on earth?

It's been 100 hours since I ate the whole box of Swiss Rolls, filled with "creme" (which they probably aren't legally allowed to spell "cream" because it's NOT, but it is hydrogenated palm kernel and/or soy oil) and I am just getting back to the feeling of wellness that I had before I ate them. The same kind of oil that makes paint stick to a house seems to make that stuff stick to my insides, and it has taken 3 days of juice fasting just to clear the mental fog from my brain, so I can even write this.

I suppose that, by tomorrow afternoon, I will be headed out with only a jug of alkaline water to sit down and play. By that time I will be past the point where alcohol would even give me a buzz. It would only be a detriment to the blessed calm that comes on the 3rd day of a juice fast. Of course the devil will appear and offer me dominion over heaven and earth if I bow down to him and worship a Hand Grenade drink that will invariably be handed to me by the first person to come along at the Lilly Pad, if there isn't already one sitting on Lilly's stoop when I get there, with its ice not even melted. But, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

I downloaded the Wim Hof Method Breathing Exercises video, and then loaded it into my editor. I then inserted more deep breaths, so instead of 30, I will be doing 45. Then I doubled the lengths of the breath holds at the end of each of the 3 rounds, so that at the end of the last one I will be laying there for 3 minutes without any air in my lungs. Pure bliss.

I mentioned having done this in the comment section of Wim's video and got a response, not from The Ice Man himself, but one of his adherents advised me to check with my doctor before undertaking such an extreme approach (otherwise, that "undertaking" may turn into a morose pun, in hindsight).

That is laughable; check with my doctor...

Me: "Doctor, I'm going to do the Wim Hof Method at double the intensity  prescribed for beginners."

Doctor: "The Wim Hof Method? (pokes at his smartphone, frowns as an image of Wim, hiking up a snow capped mountain wearing only shorts, appears). Why?"

Me: "To stimulate my immune system, alkalize my system, and reduce anxiety and stress, so as to spike my energy levels and my mental acuity."

Doctor: "Nonsense, son. I'm going to prescribe you a brand new medication that was just sent to me from Merk; that will do for you exactly that! There are a lot of crazies out there, and a lot of quackery; don't you fall prey to it! Your Medicaide will cover this; er, and just let me know right away if your ears start ringing or if you are vomiting up any blood. there have been a few cases of such interactions with the vaccines; just call my office if you experience anything like that, and we'll bring you back in here..." (shaking his head)...tsk, The Ice Man, give me a break!...(puts phone back in pocket).