Page 412 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous
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                                                    A DRUNK, LIKE YOU               401
                                 meeting list started on Sunday. I never started a proj-
                                 ect or anything else on a Sunday. Monday was my
                                 M.A.S.H. night. Tuesday was  Tuesday Night at the
                                 Movies, and I am a big old-movie fan. So Wednesday
                                 is when I decided to try this A.A. meeting.
                                    The meeting went okay. We talked about some-
                                 body’s problem with an anonymity break at his doc-
                                 tor’s office. The people at the meeting were telling
                                 him stuff that made no sense to me, like “Live and Let
                                 Live,” “Easy Does It,” “One Day at a Time,” “use the
                                 Serenity Prayer,” “talk to your sponsor,” and as we
                                 went around the table it came my turn. Since they
                                 were all saying they were alcoholics, it wasn’t too hard
                                 for me to say my name and, “Hi, I’m an alcoholic,”
                                 and suggest that the man should just go to another
                                 doctor. He thanked me very much, and after the
                                 meeting he said to be sure and come back next week.
                                    During the meeting, somebody mentioned spend-
                                 ing too much time at discussion tables when we
                                 should have been spending more time at First Step ta-
                                 bles for newcomers. So I went to the First Step table
                                 the following week. The discussion was very interest-
                                 ing. I didn’t think I was “powerless over alcohol,” but
                                 I knew “my life was unmanageable.”
                                    One night we were talking about when we started
                                 drinking, and I was saying that I drank all my life.
                                 Actually I was given my first drink at my bris. That is
                                 usually done when a boy is eight days old. So I said all
                                 Jewish boys start drinking early. I had to admit that
                                 after that it was just the usual milk and juice until I
                                 could sit up at the table with the family, and then
                                 there would be kiddush wine every Friday night. Not
                                 great stuff—what we got was sweet wine and seltzer,
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