Redemption

 

     I have, in the last few years, attempted to refrain from being too open about my personal problems.  Not because I'm withdrawn, but mostly because I'm of the mindset that most people don't want to hear about someone else's problems.  However, I need to delve into it for a bit so I can tell y'all this story. So bare with me.   I, am a raging alcoholic.  there, I said it.  For those of you who don't know, or were not paying attention, I spent well over a decade drinking myself to death.  I destroyed relationships.  I lost jobs. I sunk my career.  I went through a lot of self destruction.  I'll spare all bits and pieces and just say that about 3 years ago, I finally hit rock bottom and sought out some help.  Here is a little story that happened to me along the way.  I wanted to share it with you.

    A couple of years before I quit drinking, I had a friend land me a gig working for a company that was, by all means, a really decent job.  The job was driving a truck.  The guy I had to work for, His name was Cliff.  Well, wouldn't you know it? Cliff was just a complete asshole.  Former military.  Way too uptight.  Way too organized.  Abrasive and way too intimidating. Set in his ways, no matter how wrong they were.  But, I really had to put it in there and deal with this guy if I wanted the job.  He was the supervisor after all.  So, I did what I had to do.  All I wanted was to get through the days and spend my free time drinking as much as possible anyway.  This job was great for that, because I spent a lot of time on the road living in hotel rooms where no one could watch me.  I had the whole world fooled.

    The job was seasonal.  I finished out the season, and returned the next year to do it all over again.  In the course of that year and a half, I got more and more frustrated with the job.  Mostly because people were accusing me of "things I didn't do"  Cliff became such a pain to work for.  Breathing down my neck about shit that I didn't do.  Or at the very least, stuff that wasn't my fault.  I finally left the job before finishing out the season.  I ducked out to take another job and left Cliff in a tight spot.  He and I (mostly he) had an exchange of words that was far from pleasant.  Some very mean things were said, and I left.

    I went through a couple of jobs after that.  None of them lasted quite a year, because my drinking kept getting me into trouble.  It was about this time that I had a moment of clarity in my life, and realized that I desperately needed help to get away from booze.  I sought it out, and I found some wonderful people to help me with that.  I had been sober for about 6 months when I realized that I really needed to put some focus on getting my professional life back to something productive.  It was almost time for season to start again at the company where I had started working with Cliff, and I did what any self respecting man in recovery would do, I put my hat in my hands and cleared my throat. 

    My hands were shaking when I dialed Cliff's number.  It rang about 8 times...  I was thinking through how to word my voicemail message when he answered the phone.  I spent a few minutes laying out to this man what I was doing.  I explained my recovery.  I apologized for my behavior.  And then I asked him if he could find it in his heart, I could really use a second chance.  Cliff got quiet, He said "let me consider it and I will get back to you".  I thanked him and hung up.  Two weeks later, I got the message: Cliff was NOT in the business of giving second chances.  In, fact he never did it.  But, against his own better judgement, he was going to give me another chance.  I got the gig.    I worked hard through the season.  Did my job, and did it without complaining, and to the best of my ability.  At the end of the season, Cliff came up to me and shook my hand.  He told me that he was proud of me.  He said that I had really made an impression on him.  And then he told me that he wasn't going to answer the phone the day I called, but something compelled him to, and he didn't regret it. 

    I continued to do some occasional work for Cliffs company.  Cliff moved on to another job.  I ended up running with the employment and turning it into a pretty good, reliable income for myself.  I branched out to a few other companies, and today, I work for several different organizations within the entertainment business as a freelance driver. I got to go on tour with Phil Collins and Billy Joel before the corona virus hit.   I kept in touch with Cliff.  Keeping him updated on my life and my recovery, and the progress I was making in both areas.  

This week, I saw that the company Cliff was working for had a very large gig in my home town.  On a whim, I texted Cliff and asked if he would be coming.  Indeed, he would, but he wouldn't have time for much more than a lunch break. I insisted on meeting this man for lunch.  We made the arrangements.  I take the practice of breaking bread with another person very seriously.  I really don't like eating with people that I don't trust or don't like.  Life is too short.  So, with just about an hour to spare, I sat down with this man. I insisted on paying for his lunch, because I believe that I might not have the opportunities that I have in front of me today, had this man not given me a second chance. We ate, and we talked, like friends.  I had a really good time.  Free of stress, and just soaking in the conversation and the company of a man that I had really grown to appreciate.  We parted ways with a hand shake, and promised to keep in touch, which I am positive we will.   

If you ever come to believe that you are beyond redemption, don't be afraid to stop and take stock of your surroundings.  Humble pie can taste better than you might think.  It's also healthy for the digestive system.  And if you have ever just about had enough of someone screwing up and doing all the wrong things, If they show they have the desire to change, and are taking the steps, at least consider giving them another chance.  They MAY let you down again, but if just ONE person can prove you wrong, and redeem themselves.... Well then, I bet that's a pretty amazing feeling!

Thank You Cliff.  I cant say that hard enough!

(In case you are wondering, going on 3 years sober now, but that's not what this story is about)

Teach A Man To Fish.

 

 Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.  Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.  So goes the old Chinese proverb. It has more ramifications than just the literal sense.  However, in a very literal application, it has a profound influence.  I live in a part of the world that enjoys all the bounties that the sea has to offer.  A good portion of the population here enjoy the fruits of the harbor and the gulf.  Conversely, a great number of those folk who enjoy the fishing for sustenance and sport in my part of the world, owe their own abilities, at least in part to one local man.

     Fish'n Frank has been a local landmark in Charlotte County Florida for as far back as I can remember. To walk through the door at his bait and tackle shop on US 41, was to walk in the footsteps of thousands of anglers before you.  Indeed, the hardwood floors were so worn, that in places, there were grooves for pathways through the aisles of assorted rods, tackle, bait freezers and Polaroids of assorted anglers who had walked these halls before you that littered the store.  It was so crammed with assorted fishing trinkets that hung off the walls and from random hooks in the ceiling, that at times one felt compelled to duck their head for a fear of getting their hair snagged in a random piece of tackle that might be hanging from a fixed location. And there in the middle of it, at a chest high counter that was so aged, that most of the lacquer had worn completely off, was where you could usually find Frank dispensing some bit of assistance or random advice to an aspiring fisherman.

    It would be entirely safe to assume, that since Frank opened his shop in 1985, hundreds of thousands of people have passed through his doors seeking bait, lures, line, and especially random pieces of advice about where to catch the big one. This is where Frank always shined.  You could always count on Frank to know, not just where the fish were biting today, but why.  The ins and outs of tide movements, the location of the moon, rain fall, pollutants in the water source, and why hopping on your left leg while humming the Star Spangled Banner while you cast your line might beget more fish.  If there is a secret to it, Frank knows it.  And he was always willing to share it with his customers.   

    Early in the morning in late May, the local landmark that is Fish'n Frank's tackle shop burned entirely to the ground, along with everything that Frank and his crew and his family have worked to build.  Sure, it was modest, but it was his, neigh it was OURS!  Because Frank had one of the few places that a person could go, where he could learn how to fish.  If teaching a man to fish feeds him for a lifetime, then indeed, it can be reasoned that Frank has gone far and above his responsibility as a member of a community to help feed countless people. And in a couple of hours, all of that he worked for was gone. For those of us who understand where the fish are biting, and why, and know how to tie the correct knot on our hooks and lures, and know which bait to use and why, NOW is the time to repay that debt to a man who taught us to feed ourselves. 

PHOTO By Matthew Butcosk Twisted Chassis Photography

    I am already astounded by the outreach from my community to get Frank back open as soon as possible.  But every bit we can do is going to help right now.  I don't have a lot to give, but I, like many, have a debt to this man.  I am asking my community now, to reach out, and repay a man who has helped us all to fish, eat and enjoy the wonderful bounty that Mother Nature has put here for us.


As of the writing of this blog, the best way to find out how to help is probably to visit the Facebook page dedicated to helping this Man.  You can find the link here:   Help Rebuild Fish'n Frank

The little Christmas bird.

    Once upon a time, there was a little bird. The bird had a survival instinct that demanded he fly south for the winter.  However, he had procrastinated and had not been able to start his journey until Christmas day, very late in the season for birds to migrate.  Because of this, about midway through his travel, he was overtaken by a bad winter storm.  The bitter cold of the raging storm was too much for the little bird.  Soon he was overtaken by the frigid temperatures and began to freeze.  The little bird landed in a small tree in hopes of finding warmth enough to face down Jack Frost, but in the middle of the night he lost his battle with the weather and froze solid and fell to the ground.

Our little bird was now cold, hungry, miserable and in a terrible spot.  The bird lay there, full of self loathing for quite some time, contemplating what were certain to be his final hours freezing to death.  After a while, a bear came along. The little bird was terrified.  Certainly this was to be his last hour.  Alas, the bear, indifferent and oblivious to our little friend, proceeded to seek out a place under tree to answer natures call. As if to add insult to injury, the bear vacated himself of an entire weeks worth of "recycled berries" that landed right on our little friend.  Then the bear wandered off into the woods to do what bears do.

Now our frozen friend lay there all cold and covered in poop, thought to himself: "I don't think life can get any worse than this".  But then something began  to happen.  See, the fresh poo was plenty warm.  The warmth slowly began to heat the bird.  Over a short time, the bird began to thaw out.  Slowly, the bird warmed up. Eventually he was able to stand up again and when he did, he began to move around in the poop relishing in the life giving warmth that it was providing.  So enamored became the bird with his new found luck that he began to splash around in the poop and sing.  The lovely harmony of the little bird singing caught the ears of a hungry bobcat nearby.  The bobcat ventured over to the poop, scooped the little bird out of the poo and ate him.

There are several lessons to be taken away from our little friends journey.  Number one: Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today.  Number two: Just because someone shits on you, it does not always make them your enemy.  Number three: If someone helps get you out of shit, it does not always make them your friend.  And most importantly: No matter what kind of shit life throws at you, If you are warm and happy, Shut the hell up!

I have been considering this parable a bit these last few days.  Personally, life has been very cold and full of poop for me and my family in 2019.  I have been humbled by tragedy and forced to reflect on the most important thing in my life: The people that I love.  I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas.  I also want to urge everyone to take some time and embrace those closest to you.  Take some time and re-establish the bonds of loved ones and reflect on why they are important to you.  And despite today's lesson, it's probably okay to sing a few Christmas carols--- Just keep it down, you never know who is listening.

This blog is dedicated to the memory of my Brother in Law Allen Wright.  

We miss you and wish you were here bro.