The Shrink has been out for several hours today in the rain, canvassing the poorer neighborhoods and getting people to register, reminding them to vote, getting address changes made, and generally making a pest of herself.

We’ve found that I don’t do too well in those sorts of situations, and we think it’s because I simply look too intimidating.  Poor folks look at me, and even though it’s been 18 years and I’m in my 60’s now, they still see a cop.  Not much I can do about it.  I looked like one even before I was one.  When I walk up to someone’s door lights tend to go out and drapes all up and down the street begin to shake as all the neighbors check me out.  Having a handful of papers doesn’t help.

Despite quite a few years in recovery, I still retain a lot of the affect and mannerisms that I wanted so badly to change when I changed the rest of my life.  (Getting out of law enforcement was an integral part of my long-term treatment plan.)  That’s frustrating, and yet that part allows me to sponsor and counsel a part of the recovering population that often has trouble relating to the “wimpy social workers” that they often assume all counselors to be, initially.  So my “loss” is someone’s gain, anyway, and it probably goes to show that you shouldn’t try to become something you aren’t, just try to work with what you’ve got. At least that’s the conclusion I’ve come to over the years.

I work the phone banks instead.  I’ve got a decent phone voice, and (usually) the patience to put up with the members of the opposite party, who inevitably have some of the numbers that have been changed and don’t appreciate hearing from some pointy-head liberal.  I just encourage them to do their civic duty and vote, saying I’d love it if they’d vote for my guy, but if they feel they can’t, vote anyway.  Naturally I hope they won’t, but that isn’t the point.

But holy hanging chads, Batman!  Twenty years ago we weren’t even able to move our butts enough to get out of bed or the recliner and go practically across the street to vote!  Other things were more important — or nothing was, maybe.  Then, after a couple of evictions, our address changes got so far ahead of our precincts that we might as well have been citizens of Bangladesh.

What a miracle to not only be clean and sober, but to have an interest in the world and how it looks for our grandkid, and be able to help do something about it!  We’ve lived in the same place for 17 years!  We hold down decent jobs and people respect us for what we do.  We just had lunch with our daughter and her new husband — the daughter that we completely lost track of for several months at one point.  I see our other daughter and our granddaughter at least a couple of times a week, because they live only about a quarter mile from my office.  I pay attention to the news.  I watch debates.  I vote.  I belong, and I contribute!

I shared about that at a meeting last night, and person after person who shared after me told about similar changes sobriety has made in their lives.  You could see the kids from the treatment centers looking at us as though we were from another planet.  Well, maybe so.  We’re not Earth People, but we’re not from someplace out in the cold and dark, either.

Not any more.