Some of you who’ve been following me for a good bit have figured out by now that I’ve had difficulties with booze in eras long past. Times have changed. Time has changed me. But the worry I have is that my son and daughter will inherit my predilection for the wet stuff. Earlier today I sent my son a photo of my Pizza purchase, shown here on the blog at Papa John’s.com.
He later returned a photo of some Vodka bottles among other items in a shopping cart in a grocery.
I told him – you have the predilection. Be careful, son… I love you. No reply. No surprise.
I was adopted. I am more than fully aware of the reasons that the state of Michigan removed myself and seven other siblings from these bastard parents during the nineteen sixties. Booze and drugs so many decades past. Same shit, different decades. But seriously, I am so worried for my son’s future. Alcohol is a major demonic tool. I’ve met most of my blood relatives and it’s not been good. More bitter than sweet. I’ll do my best to steer my young man around these pitfalls…