A Note From Your Functional Alcoholic Slurpreson
My Fellow Alcoholics,
On March 19, some guy who calls himself Puck drove over an embankment with his 8-year-old son in the car. The youngster had to crawl from the wreckage, up the embankment, flag down a passing car and relay information to the motorist who’d called 911. [You can hear the call on TMZ by following this link.]
Puckface (his parents named him David Rainey, as in “Rainey Days And Reality Shows Always Get Me Down”) is known by the same kind of people who can name off the entire cast of Jersey Shore because he was the resident asshole in something MTV called The Real World: San Francisco. As if something produced by MTV could be called reality, especially in San Fran. Anyway, this Pucker ended up with broken bones in his feet, hands and neck, as well as a fractured sternum and clavicle. Doctors are reportedly still looking for his brain, which is apparently as tiny as his penis, but so far have had no success and suspect he may have been born without either.
Even worse than Puckass’ living through this shit was the fact that he brought his son down with him, literally. Bogart, Puck’s 8-year-old, had bruised internal organs and damage to his liver. Even sadder than the woman who agreed to bear the offspring of Puck is this poor child who has to admit his dad’s a total Puck up.
And speaking of liver damage, i’ll give you two guesses about the cause of the accident but you’ll only need one. The “man” himself confessed to the National Enquirer, “I drank two shots of Jack Daniels in the car,” he said. “But I also ate a sandwich,” continued the safety unconscious Father Of The Year.
Yes, the police arrested him while he was still in the hospital for suspicion of DUI. Other charges of driving without a license and child endangerment are likely to follow.
The Method To My Madness
Y’all know i started this Diary-a Of A Chronicle Drinker for you, my people in the D-Generation, fellow members of D.R.I.N.K.E.R.s (Drunks Really Involved Now Known as Exiles Reunited). This Bar None is a place where you can hang out without being judged. i’m also here to share my experiences and personal stories so you can tell yourselves, “Hell, I may be a screw up, but at least I’m not as bad as Al.”
Well, now’s my chance to say it. i’ve done a lot of messed up things and my drinking has definitely affected my kids, but i’ve never drunk shots of Jack while driving with my kids in the car.
This does not mean i’m a model father.
My kids knew the word “hangover” way before they should’ve had to. It was used when i was married and then, after my divorce, it was still batted about the apartment when they came over some weekends.
One time, my son was pro’lly 13 which would make my daughter 10 or 11, i went with my little girl to pick up my son from an acting class. The idea was for me to hide and for her to tell him she’d walked there on her own. So we did this but, to make it more believable, she claimed i was too drunk to come and so i’d sent her alone. It musta been pretty damn believable because the boy-child fell for it. That’s when i started realizing how serious the shit was getting.
i’ve lost my temper and gone to the dunk angry place with both the kids. (That said, i’ve never hit anyone, let alone my kids, when drunk).
My son now recognizes my drunken euphoria and has come to hate it. He gets angry at me for it, as he should. Last summer the kids, Miss Demeanor and myself got bumped into business class for a trans-Atlantic flight and i drank 2 glasses of champagne, a double Glenlivet, a glass of white burgundy, 2 glasses of Medoc, a cognac, an Armagnac and then 5 glasses of dry white wine. (The post about that is right here.) i got loquacious (a big word that means “babbling like a 13-year-old girl hopped up on Redbull in line at a Twilight premiere”) upon landing and my son gave me a shoulder colder than the champagne for two days.
i am not proud of myself about any of this. My children would probably be happier if i didn’t drink, and yet i continue to imbibe, which is like saying my drinking is more important than their happiness. Even typing that shames me.
On the less dark side, i have never put my kids in danger because of my drinking. My children accept me for who i am and, while i may not have their pride all the time, i do have their love.
Functional Alcoholism And Fatherhood
Y’all know me, and if you don’t, count your blessings. i’m not here to preach or to give you advice, that would just be the blind drunk leading the blind drunk.
i think i’m safe in saying, though, that we should draw a line at jeopardizing our children’s well-being. If a binge gets to a point where you can no longer assure that, call someone you trust who’s sober enough to do it for you.
What i can also share is kinda what i’ve been saying in these sincere posts all along. Be honest. Be open. My kids (and the rest of my family) would know about my drinking problem even if i tried to hide it, so i figure why try? i’m not saying i brag about it, either. Just i’m honest with my kids about my drinking and the problems it causes. Hopefully my being upfront about it will teach them to drink more responsibly than i do. Teaching by bad example, is what i’m doing.
To any of you out there who were raised by alcoholics…i can’t speak for your parents but i can speak for myself. i love my children and i want what’s best for them. i would never hurt them and i’m trying to be a better man and better father for them. My problems are not because of but despite my kids. My issues are less severe than would be without the runts around.
It’s like i’ve told them since they were babies too young to understand and continue repeating since they can: My job is not to make them happy, it’s to teach them how to make themselves happy when they’re older.