In the last incarnation of The Zero Boss, I made a big production out of drinking. I blogged while drunk, loudly and proudly. I had a good online friend concoct a banner that depicted me sucking back Mike’s Hard Lemonade while I downloaded the world via USB. Drinking was less social function, and more national pasttime.

In several posts, I mocked AA; secretly, I thought anyone who attended a loser. Only losers can’t control their liquor, right? George Carlin said that anyone who drives slower than you is an idiot, and anyone who drives faster than you is a maniac. It was like that, but with booze: anyone who drank less than me was a lightweight, and anyone who drank more was a raging alcoholic.

It was all fun and games, until I ended up “working from home” so that I could suck back Jack and Coke with my lunch. I had to drink myself to the edge of suicide, sitting in a boxed-up house 2,500 miles away from my children, before I admitted that, yeah…I had a problem.

I’m an alcoholic.

I admire people who admit that. I love and admire Rachael, not only for getting sober, but for all she does to spread the message, and help others who are lost to this illness. Maggie is my new Internet hero.

The old Zero Boss would’ve laughed at Jay Reatard for snorting and snockering himself to an early death at age 29. I can half-imagine the post I would’ve written about Rip Torn, who somehow ended up in a Connecticut bank with a loaded .22-caliber revolver. Torn was so drunk, he thought the bank was his house. (In his defense, it probably had as much money. So, easy mistake.)

Now I can only close my eyes and say a tiny prayer. There but for the grace of Goddess. My heart goes out to both men. One of them still has a fighting chance. The other – gone. Perhaps to return after a stint in the inbetween. Perhaps to abide eternally in the embrace of the Mother. Or perhaps to dissipate into ether, to kiss a peace that eluded him in life. I don’t know which of two beautiful options I believe more.

More than anything, these men and their struggles make me thankful for one more day without alcohol. I’ve been sober, gone back out, and come back in from the cold again. If I ever think about going back out, I remember the devastating pain and abject humiliation to which this disease brought me before.

And I think about men like Rip and Jay. In their weakness, I see mine. In their struggle, I find strength.

aa, addiction, alcoholics anonymous, alcoholism, jay reatard, rip torn