Plan C

Last night the entire SLR team had a pow wow. We call it a heart circle, an opportunity for the group organism to re:view re:calibrate, re:juvenate, re:turn – I could go on. There are so many re: words in the dictionary, in fact, sometimes an exasperated OED throws in the towel. I remember learning about language's hidden-in-plain-sight structure some thirty years ago from a woman with whom I had a brief affair. I was way out of her league, but sex, the great equalizer, leveled the playing field. Anyhow, she turned me on to de:constructions like reponse-ability and dis-ease. English was never the same.

We've had daily, sometimes twice-daily, meetings, going over set-up, breakdown, big picture logistics and storm contingencies, but we'd yet to sit down for a serious session of props and grows, where each of us can give proper credit due and/or constructive criticism at group level - what's working and what ain't. Each person who chose to share was able to tell the group what was going on with them.

In the rooms of AA, cross-talk is forbidden. Everyone is given a safe space to share their strength, hope and experience, often within the focus of a suggested topic. WAIT, a clever acronym, which stands for Why Am I Talking? should be taken under advisement at all times. There are even sponsors who, in the beginning, set down strict guidelines for their sponsees. “Take the cotton out of your ears, and put it in your mouth”, is one such admonishment. It's predicated on the principle that when you were in charge of your life things got pretty unmanageable. Why don't we see what happens when you get out of the driver's seat for awhile. No, not riding shotgun, either. Try the backseat.

Unlike in AA, where meetings last an hour, 90 minutes tops, our heart circle lasted four hours. It was exhaustive, deep, thorough. There were tears and there was laughter. We considered what it would look like to push the envelope - vis a vis our audience, as a group, and as individuals.

Afterwards, realizing I've been derelict in my duties, I want to bring you up to date about certain significances.

First some nuts and bolts stuff. The 3^rd bus, The Run Bus, never joined us for the tour. Without going into details or casting blame, let it suffice to say it did not live up to its hype. The plug was pulled about two weeks ago and we moved to Plan B. We bought a bio-diesel generator, which the 3^rd bus would've provided for concert sound. We pushed ahead with just Priscilla, Julia (its trailer in tow) and Roxanne (nee Roxy Boxy). Then yesterday, shortly after phueling in Philly (sorry, I know I'm being incorrigible), billowing smoke began emanating from the exhaust pipes of all our vehicles. Since it happened right after the pit stop, and following some sharp detective work, we concluded that the bio-diesel we pumped contained kerosene. However, in Priscilla's case, the smoke told a different story. She's in a bad way and probably will require an engine transplant.

Enter Plan C.

Late last night, after our gathering, we re:sorted (ha!) the bays, and moved most of the kitchen equipment and foodstuffs from Priscilla onto Julia. Leaving a strategically-small task force, the rest of us departed Philly at the crack of dawn, bound for Boone, North Carolina.

My sponsor, Mike, finally read my blog entries. I was actual starting to feel some resentment toward him about that. As his own man, he had positive comments. As my sponsor however, he had some concerns. Alcoholics tend toward exhibitionism and self-regard. I should be careful - a blog might be a trap.

I'm not sure I agree with his apprehension.

I'll look at that in the next few days.

In the past, I would've taken it personally.

Now it's just food for thought.