I just got back from a pre-surgery nasal swab Covid test. It, the swabbing, kind of tickled. Tickled is good.
On the way to the medical center I was listening to The Byrds. On the way back it was the Beach Boys. Last night looking at a Padres/Brewers baseball game the announcers got talking about the Boston Red Sox, and one noted that on the 2018 world championship team the three outfield members were Mookie Betts, Jackie Bradley Jr, and Andrew Benintendi. The so-called Killer B’s.
The Byrds, the Beach Boys, Betts, Bradley, Benintendi. That’s a lot of B’s. I’m Buddy, another B.
Another B is “Be Here Now”, at least the verb of it, and I cannot speak for anyone else but lately it’s been all I can do but to be here now. Asking what I experience as my Higher Power to help me understand the will for me for the next five minutes – only five minutes – and on my side of the street. What’s the will for me the next five minutes on my side of the street?
When I first long ago began hanging out with the don’t drink no matter what crowd I was often advised to “Ask for help.” That’s what you did – you didn’t drink just one day and you asked for help because, surer than shit, you were gonna need it. I slowly learned how to do it, the ask for help thing, and – like I said – these days it’s pretty much just for the next five minutes, and the wondering what’s going to happen next. And asking for help. Lots of help. I surer than shit need it.
Be here now. That B.