Love, Sobriety, Books
On the book "Educated," being in love, Sobriety
*Please consider:
1. Subscribing if you haven’t yet
Sharing this post (if you like the story)
“Recommending” “Sincere American Writing” on your Substack page.
Thank you for reading, everyone!!!
Thursday, November 10, 2022
On the 7th of November my father got the anticipated Pet Scan of his lungs. He and my mother will see the oncologist at 10am this morning (it’s 7:47am now) to go over the findings. Until then we are still in the proverbial dark. Will it be a new tumor and/or a recurrence of the cancer? Maybe. Maybe not. Living in flighty uncertainty has become the norm the past couple years, both related to my family and the global pandemic.
Two days ago I stayed the night with my girlfriend. She lives 50 minutes north of Santa Barbara, where I live. We are hopelessly in love. But it doesn’t feel toxic in any way, that crazy, supernatural “love” wherein you treat each other like an alcoholic treats booze. This is different, new, exciting. Our new relationship thrums with love, communication and understanding. We’ve had and will no doubt continue to have our issues…but what relationship doesn’t? And hey: After two-and-a-half brutal, bleak years of the darkness of lurid pandemic Manhattan, of very little sex and almost no female attention whatsoever—not to mention the suicide attempt of my teenage niece and my father’s stage four Melanoma—I literally cannot describe how glorious it feels to just BE with someone.
I’m still reading my Andrew Jackson biography (“American Lion.”) Getting pretty close to the end. But, based on another Substack post and fascinating discussion, I have finally broken down and started reading “Educated,” the 2018 NYT-bestselling memoir by Tara Westover. I’m about a third of the way through. So far I have mixed, complicated feelings. The writing is strong, if simple. The story itself—about a girl growing up in a semi-crazy survivalist family in a corner of rural Idaho—is intriguing if not as thrilling as I expected. (The book reminds me of Gabrielle Talent’s “My Absolute Darling,” or Mary Karr’s “Cherry.”)
I think my main beef, so far, is that I don’t quite care as much as I feel I should about the main character (Tara). I can’t quite put my finger on why this is the case. All the character and plot ingredients are in place: Innocent, smart girl, gnarly, nutty father obsessed with the “Illuminati” and “California socialism,” a Dickensian sort of anti-Utopia setting wherein God (they are Mormon) is going to bring the Apocalypse. Yet something so far seems slightly lacking to me. There seems to be a sort of vagueness to the tale, as if Westover isn’t quite yet totally ready to get completely honest and vulnerable. It feels, to me, like she’s somehow holding back. Maybe not. I’ll keep reporting as I read more. I’ll probably do so today on my several dog walking gigs.
I enjoyed the two days of rain we got here in Santa Barbara. Lord, we needed it. Finally, it feels like fall—cold, foggy, wet. The other day, driving back from my girlfriend’s house, on Highway 1, around 8:45am, I felt satisfied with my life. For the first time in a while. Surrounded by green fields and both sides of the road, no other cars around for a chunk of time, the two front windows both down an inch allowing cold, clean air, the sun shining down against the golden road ahead as if a symbol of my future, I sighed in a good way. Less than two months shy of turning 40, in love, writing on Substack, editing books, walking dogs, being there for my sick father and struggling mother. This is the Stuff of Life, is it not? What else is there?
I listened the other day to Joe Rogan’s #1890 podcast interview with Bridget Phetasy. I loved it. She, like myself, is also sober. (She has nine years to my 12.) Listening to them chat reminded me of how grateful I am to be sober, especially in 2022. My life was absolute anarchy before I stopped drinking. (Which was at age 27, in 2010.) How would I have handled the pandemic drunk? What about my father’s cancer? Or my niece’s suicide attempt? Or the horrific, insane loneliness of the past two years? Or any of the political madness in the nation over the past half-decade?
Badly, on all counts, I’m sure. But, thankfully, I haven’t had a sip of booze in over 12 years. There are aspects of 12-step recovery that I don’t agree with, for sure, and there are aspects that I very much agree with and cherish. I am a contrarian and free-thinker: Always have been, always certainly will be. I like to argue, take the opposing side, disagree. That’s just my inherent nature. Such is life.
I’ll report back—like I said—about my father’s lung Pet Scan, in a day or two or so. Say a prayer for him.
Michael Mohr
And again: Please consider subscribing, sharing, recommending either of my Substacks!
Thank you!!!!
Sobriety is such a gift. I like Phetasy also!
<3 "intuitively knowing how to handle situations which used to baffle us." : ) lately I've been so grateful for that too.