Back in the Saddle

I’ve missed this life.

The driving. The camping in Walmart parking lots. Theme parks other than the ones here in Orlando. In-person musical jams, workshops, concerts and hugs. Two years of the same four walls have colored everything outside my house with a brilliant hue of awesomeness and there’s only one thing missing.

Alcohol.

My long-held road-trip traditions typically involve copious amounts of fishbowl margaritas consumed at Mexican restaurants in every state I visit, plus a steady stream of beer at the theme parks on my non-event days. Many people have commented on my exceedingly heightened tolerance for the booze and very few of them are aware that I was arrested some 15 years ago on a charge of DUI in the state of West Virginia. I’ll never forget two things that the judge told me. One was, “I can determine by your blood alcohol content levels that you are well-practiced at impaired driving.” Yes. Yes, I was.

The judge, upon discovering that I was a touring mountain dulcimer musician and teacher, spent a little of my court time talking about his love of the Mountain Stage radio show and folk music in general. He said he’d had lots of friends who made bad choices with booze and he knew that I could do better. Then, he said the second thing that I’ll never forget:

“I want to see you on Mountain Stage one of these days. I do NOT want to see you in my courtroom ever again.”

It took many years and lots of therapy, but I’ve finally emerged on the other side of what could’ve been a downward spiral to end them all. As it turned out, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder both easily lead to alcohol abuse (under the category of “impulsivity.”) All I had to do was manage it. I quit for a year, many moons ago, with no withdrawals or DTs, just to see if I could, so I knew it was possible to radically decrease my consumption. One of the things that helped the most was Jae deciding that she too was finally ready to stop drinking. With the added onus of setting a good example and not being a stumbling block, I made the decision to relegate booze to the back of the train. I’d continue to enjoy my annual aged egg nog and I’d sip a nice Skrewball peanut butter whiskey over ice at some point in the future, but not until I’d gone without alcohol for at least six months. I trust my headspace and my ability to keep promises to self as I continue to get healthier in body and mind.

So, it’s been totally amazing to go to these places where I always fall into a routine of binge-drinking, and instead, I’m binge-drinking water. What a difference it has made already! I’m losing weight easier, saving money and my feelings of self-worth are improved. With more presence of mind and no hangovers to contend with in the morning, I’ve been more alive and engaged on tour than ever before. What an incredible thing to discover at 55 years old!

As I cruise in a new normal lane of therapy, treatment and abstinence, I see how this pandemic has created an entirely new legion of alcoholics and mental health professionals are alarmed at the increase in cases. Geting an appointment to see someone these past couple of years has been like trying to score a virtual queue slot for Star Wars: Rise of the Resistance at Walt Disney World. (For those who don’t know, you’ve better odds at winning the lotto than getting a ride on this thing.)

Many people do not know that I’ve drastically changed my viewpoint on alcohol, so it was fun to see the surprised faces as I ordered water with lunch and dinner at various places with folks. It has been illuminating to see and feel these experiences with lucidity again. If there ever was a shred of mental fatigue involved with touring, it seems to have all vanished in favor of a new, hopeful exuberance.

I’ll happily take that over the past anyday.