The reason I don’t have many tattoos is partially because of the six-month rule: I have to want the same thing, with no iterative changes, for six months.  Then I have the internal green light.

I’ve wanted my new tattoo for much longer than six months.  But, being that it was below the sleeveline, and that it was a phrase, I decided to call my sponsor the day of the appointment for one more opinion.  I told him the deal.  He was agreeable to the concept, and asked me what the words were.

When I said “even you,” he started laughing. Uproariously.

I said: “What the HELL, dude?”

And then he told me why he laughed.

My sponsor had recently moved out of New York City.  For years and years prior, he had been attending the same AA meeting that I go to most weekday mornings.  One of his best friends goes to the meeting, as well.  She’s a FANTASTIC lady who helped start the group.  For well over a decade, they have sat next to each other.  They have the habits of old friends:  she eats his morning bagel without asking, little inside jokes, things like that. They’ve sat side by side, every morning, for well over a decade.

Since he moved from the city, this is something they both miss dearly.

At the end of the meeting, we say the Serenity Prayer.  And, as they do at many meetings, we follow that with “Keep coming back, it works if you work it, so work it your worth it.”  (Yeah, it’s silly, but like everything else in AA, it grows on you.) For over a decade, after the whole group said “so work it your worth it,” my sponsor and his best friend would look at each other, point, and say:

“Even you.”

That is why he was laughing.  That is why I heard God say: “Proceed.”

Love to all. Even you, the guy who insists that it just doesn’t matter.

A long time ago, when I was thinking about tattoos, Renn suggested that, instead of “Be love” I get “Even you.” Renn, this post is yours.

Love to all.  Even you, the tourist with the flying elbows.

Last May, I wrote “An open letter to my AA Brother. Today, the subject of that post celebrated a year of continuous sobriety.

Now, I don’t understand God. I don’t plan to. I do, however, have the teeniest line on something God-like.

God-ish?

Godilicious?

What I believe is that people, under certain conditions, create and/or participate in a non-standard series of connections that can do fairly amazing things. I call this connection spiritual. I call that connectivity The Spirit.

This dude was a dead man walking. He’d taken the turn. But something happened.

Somehow, he ran into someone from his one of his New York AA meetings on an airplane from Atlanta. Somehow, he picked a sponsor with thirty years of sobriety who told him whatever it was that he needed to hear and, suddenly, this guy was on his way towards a seriously stable - if always day-to-day -  life.

Godilicious is right.

Love to all. Even you, Leg Spreader.

There are few people in this world who, by applying a fraction of their mental powers, could turn me into a cinder. From a distance. Any distance. Tracy Lynn is one of those people. So, having been tagged with a meme, I can do nothing but comply.

1) What were you doing 10 years ago?
I was two years into owning my own company. It was the dot.com era, and things were hoppin’. I was also hiding pints of vodka in my desk at work and my drawers at home. I was smoking two packs a day. I lived in Brooklyn, NY. Carter was alive. I only had one child.

2) What are five tings on my to-do list for today?
- Call IKEA to have them move the delivery for my new office furniture from 7-11 to 9-1.
- Try and recruit some excellent NYC actionscript coders
- Watch tasteful lesbian pornography
- Secure general liability insurance for the new office.
- Visit the pharmacologist about changing ADHD meds, ’cause Focalin sucks ass.

3) Snacks I enjoy.
Cheese. Oranges. Ice cream sundaes. Raw vegetables. Maggie.

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
First, I’d call my AA Sponsor. Then… I’d add one bedroom and one bathroom to our house. I’d buy a Miata. I’d buy an apartment for my brother-in-law, and pay for my nephew’s college. (My brother is rich enough to pay for my nieces’ college, and even if here wasn’t, he’s too much of a dick to accept the help.) I’d buy a house in Vermont on 5 acres or more of land. I’d buy an apartment in NYC, right on Central Park. Then, I’d sit down really carefully and think about how I can best do good in the world. Oh. I’d also get my own radio show somehow.

5) Three of my bad habits.
- I have a really messy desk.
- I tend to make whatever joke I think of (unless kids are around).
- I sometimes bite my nails. Ick.

6) 5 Places I have lived.
- Highland Park, NJ
- Chappaqua, NY
- New Bunsick, NJ
- Bridgewater, NJ
- Brooklyn, NY

7) 5 jobs I have had.
- Busboy
- Waiter
- Relocation Liaison for AT&T
- Mickey Mouse
- Serial Entrepreneur

5 Bloggers that I want to know more about.
As much as I hate to risk the wrath of Tracy Lynn, I’m gonna stick to my guns and not tag anyone. PLEASE DON’T HURT ME.

Love to all. Even you, the ever-so-tempting mom I ran into.

Maggie’s been sick for two days.  I stayed home from work yesterday to take care of Maggie and drop off/pick up kids… which was kind of a drag because we planned our first field trip at the office, to plan out furnishings for our new Universal Headquarters / Fortress of Good / Central Karma Station.

And, you know, if your gonna have a Fortress of Good, you have to be able to sit down.  Right?

Anyway.  My daughter is, at this very second, sitting down to a fabulous extravaganza of  cutene, having been invited to have lunch at the American Girl restaurant in midtown. This is my favorite restaurant in all of NYC. I am not kidding.  And eight girls with American Girl dolls waiting to board the Metro North train to Manhattan = cutest. thing. ever.

For now, there’s dishes to do, laundry to fold, and HDMI cables to replace.  Off I go.

Love to all. Even you, Simon Lazowsky.

Okay, NFH.  There’s your proof that I can sort of pretend to dress up.  I didn’t even Photoshop out the zit.

Love to all.  Even you, chemical tsunami.

NFH tagged me with her very own meme. It’s also, I think, my very FIRST meme, since I’m not that meme-oriented. But when NFH says “jump,” I don’t say “how high?” I fuckin’ jump.

Apologies for taking so long to actually get to it, but promise kept. I answered honestly, so apologies for the lack of humor.

What were you afraid of as a child?
Life. I was in a genuine state of panic from as far back as I can remember until I was about 24 years old. It’s a state partially known as hypervigilance. There are several periods where I was especially bad. Once of which would be when I was being subjected to daily body inspections by my father, which left me in fear all day, especially in the bathroom. Long story.

When have you been most courageous?
When I finally refused to do what I always used to do (and what I specifically was asked to do AGAIN), and take the blame for my father’s sociopathic behavior.

What sound most disturbs you?
Vomiting. I’m a sympathetic gagger.

What is the greatest amount of physical pain you’ve been in?
Nothing bad enough to mention here.

What’s your biggest fear for your children?
For all three of my kids, I’m worried about alcoholism. For my daughter, I’m worried about her being treated badly by men. Because men suck. All of them. Myself included. It’s just a lifelong battle against the natural male propensity to suck.

What is the hardest physical challenge you’ve achieved?
Quitting smoking. A distant second would be running a marathon in 80-degree weather. I almost said “quitting drinking,” but it was actually impossible for me to do when I wasn’t in AA, and when I went to AA, the compulsion was lifted.

Which do you prefer: Mountains or oceans/big water?
I like to be ON mountains and NEAR-but-NOT in oceans. So, I guess I pick mountains.

What is the one thing you do for yourself that helps you keep everything together?
Alcoholics Anonymous saved/saves my life. If I ever stop going, I’ll forget I’m an alcoholic and I’ll be completely fucked. So, AA. A distant second is running.

Ever had a close relative or friend with cancer?
Yes.

What are the things your friends count on you for?
Being funny. But don’t ASK me to be funny or I’ll get all whiny and “fuck you”-ish. I’m an excellent wingman, and I’ll step up to defend my friends whenever required.

What is the best part of being in a committed relationship?
Being able to raise children together, and seeing the impact that it has on them to have parents who usually dig each other. I think that when the kids see Maggie and I being affectionate, it profoundly affects their outlook.

What is the hardest part of being in a committed relationship?
Feeling like, basically, it’s already over so why fucking bother. Part of my psychology. Long story.

Summer or Winter? Why?
Summer. Because I need the ultraviolet light.

Have you ever been in a school-yard fight? Why and what happened?
Not really. In 7th grade, I slammed a kid’s head in a locker door after we’d be taunting each other for months. That was bad. He needed stitches. I turned myself into the principal.

Why blog?
Because I get to meet people in teeny little ways, and because it’s the only way I’m every going to keep any kind of journal.

Did you learn about sex, and/or sex safety from your parents?
My dad kept a lot of softcore porn in the house. Movies, playboys, old penthouses (monopede mania, anyone?), etc. So I learned from Penthouse Forum. We had a really lame-ass conversation when I was in my teens. One of those “do you need to know anything?” conversations that was awkward and useless.

How do you plan to talk to your kids about sex and/or sex safety?
I’ve already started. Mostly, I talk about respect for the body.

What are you most thankful for this year?
My daughter. She is everything to me. Being sober. Being a better husband this year than I was last year. Having two boys who I really, really dig. Maggie, of course. Basically, I’m thankful for my family, and all they sing, say, and do.

And that’s the scoop. That was interesting, and a little strenuous.

Love to all. Even you, the HR lady who won’t tell me the salary of the job.

The whole family went to a benefit tonight for Materials for the Arts, a public/private organization (run by the city, with additional private funding) that boosts all kinds of art programs: for schools, 501c3s, more. One of Maggie’s best friends is on the board.

They had amazing face painters. You tell them “nice” or “spooky” and they paint you. Can you tell which I chose?

Love to all. Even you, the woman who could make or break our quarter.

Skittering Thoughts has one of the funniest pictures I’ve seen in a long time.

Oh, my.

Love to all.  Even you, the dude down the hall yelling “Don’t fucking ride me!”

I’m watching the Patriots/Cowboys game when a Verizon commercial comes on.  I notice that the “Dad” in the commercial is one of Maggie’s good friends from college.  I’m like, “Hey Maggie!  Look!”  And she goes “WHOA!  Isn’t that [our oldest son's friend]?”

Yup.  I was so busy noticing the Dad, that I didn’t notice the Son, who comes over to our house all the time.  These two folks have nothing to do with each other in real life.  They were just in the same commercial.

Craziness.

Love to all.  Even you, the lady who honked at me because she didn’t realize I had stopped at the stop line.